diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 1364041 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/32246-h.htm | 2444 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/001sig.png | bin | 0 -> 20828 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i001.jpg | bin | 0 -> 61394 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i007.jpg | bin | 0 -> 60729 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i009.jpg | bin | 0 -> 15817 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i017.jpg | bin | 0 -> 52648 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i025.jpg | bin | 0 -> 37077 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i029.jpg | bin | 0 -> 45756 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i035.jpg | bin | 0 -> 45923 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i047.jpg | bin | 0 -> 60238 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i051.jpg | bin | 0 -> 41033 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i062.jpg | bin | 0 -> 40124 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i064.jpg | bin | 0 -> 24054 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i069.jpg | bin | 0 -> 34430 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i079.jpg | bin | 0 -> 41393 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i085.jpg | bin | 0 -> 96634 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i085tmb.jpg | bin | 0 -> 21168 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i089.jpg | bin | 0 -> 20572 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i090.jpg | bin | 0 -> 14269 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i090a.jpg | bin | 0 -> 12395 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i090b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 45024 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i091.jpg | bin | 0 -> 13660 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/i092.jpg | bin | 0 -> 32208 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/ifcover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 253913 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/ifcovertmb.jpg | bin | 0 -> 87447 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/ircover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 141759 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246-h/images/ircovertmb.jpg | bin | 0 -> 59654 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246.txt | 2368 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 32246.zip | bin | 0 -> 51391 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
33 files changed, 4828 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32246-h.zip b/32246-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..30d9401 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h.zip diff --git a/32246-h/32246-h.htm b/32246-h/32246-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f7152b --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/32246-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2444 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Adventures and Reminiscences of a Volunteer or A Drummer Boy from Maine, by Geo. T. Ulmer. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + + hr {width: 33%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body {margin-left: 12%; margin-right: 12%;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right; font-style: normal;} + + .poem {margin-left:15%; margin-right:15%;} + .note {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .smcaplc {text-transform: lowercase; font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .dropfig {float: left; clear: left; margin: 0 2px 0 0;} + + a:link {color:#0000ff; text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:#6633cc; text-decoration:none} + + .spacer {padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em;} + + ins.correction {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin solid gray;} + + .adverts {margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;} + + .bracket2 {font-size: 200%} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Adventures and Reminiscences of a Volunteer, by +George T. Ulmer + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Adventures and Reminiscences of a Volunteer + A Drummer Boy from Maine + +Author: George T. Ulmer + +Release Date: May 4, 2010 [EBook #32246] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADVENTURES OF A VOLUNTEER *** + + + + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/ifcovertmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> +<a href="images/ifcover.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/ircovertmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> +<a href="images/ircover.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i001.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/001sig.png" alt="" /></div> + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<h2>Adventures and Reminiscences</h2> +<h5>OF A</h5> +<h2>Volunteer,</h2> +<p> </p> +<h5>OR A</h5> +<h2>Drummer Boy from Maine</h2> +<p> </p><p> </p> +<h4>BY</h4> +<h3>GEO. T. ULMER,</h3> +<h4><span class="smcap">Company H, 8th Maine Volunteers.</span></h4> +<p> </p><p> </p> +<h4>Dedicated to the Grand Army Republic.</h4> +<p> </p><p> </p><p> </p> +<p class="center">Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1892,<br /> +by <span class="smcap">Geo. T. Ulmer</span>, in the office of the Librarian<br /> +of Congress, at Washington D. C.</p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> + +<p>In submitting this little book the author does not attempt to edit a +history of the rebellion, nor does he assume to be correct in the date of +events to a day. He does not hope or expect to make a hero of himself by +writing it, for he was far from doing anything heroic, believing, as he +does, that most of the heroes of the war were killed. Perhaps the <span class="smcaplc">WRITING</span> +of this book may stamp him a hero, and for his audacity in so doing some +one may kill him. But he intends to clothe his little work in homely, +rugged, commonplace language. Not striving to make it a work of literary +merit, only a truthful account of an unimportant career and experience in +the army. It may, perhaps, be interesting to some of his comrades, who +recollect the incidents or recall similar events that happened to +themselves, and thereby serve the purpose of introducing one of the +youngest soldiers and a comrade of that greatest and most noble of all +organizations, the Grand Army of the Republic.</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 8em;">Respectfully,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 12em;"><span class="smcap">George T. Ulmer.</span></span></p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i007.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption"><i>The Memorable Bombardment of Fort Sumter.</i></p> +<p> </p><p> </p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="dropfig"><img src="images/i009.jpg" alt="B" /></span><span class="smcap">OMBARDMENT of Fort Sumter.</span> This was the beginning and the first sound of +actual war which inspired me, and kindled the fire of patriotism in my +youthful breast. The little spark lay smoldering for two long years, ’till +at last it burst forth into a full blaze. When Fort Sumter was bombarded, +I was a midget of a boy; a barefooted, ragged newsboy in the city of New +York. The bombardment was threatened for several weeks before it actually +occurred; and many nights I would have been bankrupted, but that everyone +was on the “qui vive” for the event, and I got myself into lots of trouble +by shouting occasionally, “Fort Sumter Bombarded!” I needed money; it sold +my papers, and I forgave myself. When the authentic news did come, I think +it stirred up within me as big a piece of fighting desire as it did in +larger and older people. I mourned the fact that I was then too small to +fight, but lived in hopes that the war would last until I should grow. If +I could have gone south, I felt that I could have conquered the rebellious +faction alone, so confident was I of my fighting abilities.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>In the fall of ’61 my dear mother died, and my father who had a great +desire to make possibilities out of improbabilities, and believing a farm +the proper place to bring up a family of boys, bought one away in the +interior of Maine. The farm was very hilly, covered with huge pines and +liberally planted with granite ledges. I used to think God wanted to be +generous to this state and gave it so much land it had to be stood up +edgeways. Picture to yourself, dear reader, four boys taken from the busy +life of a great city, place them in the wilderness of Maine, where they +had to make a winrow of the forest to secure a garden spot for the house, +pry out the stumps and blast the ledges to sow the seed, then ask yourself +what should the harvest be?</p> + +<p>Father’s business required all of his time in New York City, and we were +left with two hired men to develop the farm, our brains and muscles, but +mine didn’t seem to develop worth a cent. I didn’t care for the farmer’s +life. The plow and scythe had no charms for me. My horny, hardened little +hand itched and longed to beat the drums that would marshall men to arms.</p> + +<p>After eight months of hard work we had cleared up quite a respectable +little farm, an oasis in that forest of pines. A new house and barn had +been built, also new fences and stone walls, but not much credit for this +belonged to me. Soon after, we received a letter from father stating that +he would be with us in a short time and bring us a new mother and a little +step-sister. This was joyous news, the anticipation of a new mother,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> and +above all a step-sister, inspired us with new ambition. The fences and +barn received a coat of whitewash, the stones were picked out of the road +in front of the house, the wood-pile was repiled and everything put into +apple-pie order. We did not know what day they would arrive. So each day +about the time the stage coach from Belfast should pass the corners, we +would perch ourselves on the fence in front of the house to watch for it, +and when it did come in sight, wonder if the folks were in it; if they +were, it would turn at the corners and come toward our house. Day after +day passed, and they did not come, and we had kind of forgotten about it. +Finally one day while we were all busy burning brush, brother Charlie came +rushing towards us shouting, “The stage coach is coming! The stage is +coming!” Well, such a scampering for the house! We didn’t have time to +wash or fix up, and our appearance would certainly not inspire our city +visitors with much paternal pride or affection; we looked like charcoal +burners. Our faces, hands and clothes were black and begrimed from the +burning brush, but we couldn’t help it; we were obliged to receive and +welcome them as we were. I pulled up a handful of grass and tried to wipe +my face, but the grass being wet, it left streaks all over it, and I +looked more like a bogie man than anything else. We all struggled to brush +up and smooth our hair, but it was no use, the stage coach was upon us, +the door opened, father jumped out, and as we crowded around him, he +looked at us in perfect amazement<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> and with a kind of humiliated +expression behind a pleasant fatherly smile he exclaimed, “Well, well, you +are a nice dirty looking lot of boys. Lizzie,” addressing his wife and +helping her to alight, “This is our family, a little smoky; I can’t tell +which is which, so we’ll have to wait till they get their faces washed to +introduce them by their names.” But our new mother was equal to the +occasion for coming to each of us, and taking our dirty faces in her +hands, kissed us, saying at the same time, “Philip, don’t you mind, they +are all nice, honest, hard-working boys, and I know I shall like them, +even if this country air has turned their skins black.” At this moment a +tiny voice called, “Please help me out.” All the boys started with a rush, +each eager to embrace the little step-sister. I was there first, and in an +instant, in spite of my dirty appearance, she sprang from the coach right +into my arms; my brothers struggled to take her from me, but she tightened +her little arms about my neck and clung to me as if I was her only +protector. I started and ran with her, my brothers in full chase, down the +road, over the stone walls, across the field, around the stumps with my +prize, the brothers keeping up the chase till we were all completely tired +out, and father compelled us to stop and bring the child to the house. +Afterward we took our turns at caressing and admiring her; finally we +apologized for our behavior and dirty faces, listened to father’s and +mother’s congratulations, concluded father’s choice for a wife was a good +one, and that our little step-sister was just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> exactly as we wanted her to +be, and the prospect of a bright, new and happy home seemed to be already +realized.</p> + +<p class="poem">A home is all right<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With father and brother,</span><br /> +But darker than night<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Without sister and mother.</span></p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>The war grew more and more serious. Newspapers were eagerly sought; and +every word about the struggle was read over and over again. A new call for +troops was made, another and still another, and I was all the time +fretting and chafing in the corn or potato field, because I was so young +and small. I could not work; the fire of patriotism was burning me up. My +eldest brother had arrived at the age and required size to fit him for the +service; he enlisted and went to the front. This added new fuel to the +flame already within me, and one day I threw down the hoe and declared +that I would go to the war! I would join my brother at all hazards. My +folks laughed at me and tried to dissuade me from so unwise a step, but my +mind was made up, and I was bound to enlist. Enlist I did, when I was only +fourteen years of age and extremely small for my years, but I thought I +would answer for a drummer boy if nothing else. I found that up hill work, +however, but I was bound to “get there,” and—I did.</p> + +<p>It was easy enough to enlist, but to get mustered into the service was a +different thing. I tried for eight long weeks. I enlisted in my own town, +but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> was rejected. I enlisted in an adjoining town—rejected, and so on +for weeks and weeks. But I did not give up. I owned at the time a little +old gray horse and a two-wheeled jumper or “gig,” which I had bought with +my savings from the sale of “hoop poles,” which are small birch and alder +trees that grow in the swamps, and used for hoops on lime casks; at this +time they were worth a half a cent a piece delivered. I would work cutting +these poles at times when I could do nothing else, pack them on my back to +the road, pile them up, till I had a quantity to sell. At length I +concluded I had enough to buy me a horse and cart; the pile seemed as big +as a house to me, but when the man came along to buy them, he counted out +six thousand good ones and rejected nine thousand that were bad. “Too +small!” he said.</p> + +<p>“Too small?” I exclaimed, “why there is hardly any difference in them!” +But he was buying, I was selling, and under the influence of a boy’s +anxiety, he paid me thirty dollars, which I counted over and over again, +and at every count the dollars seemed to murmer, “A horse, a horse!—war! +war! to the front! be a soldier!” I could picture nothing but a soldier’s +life; I could almost hear the sounds of the drums, and almost see the long +rows of blue-coated soldiers marching in glorious array with steady step +to the music of the band. “Thirty! thirty!” I would repeat to myself, but +finally concluded thirty wouldn’t buy much of a horse, but my heart was +set upon it, and nothing remained for me to do but cut more “poles.” One +day when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> I arrived at the road with a bundle of them, a farmer happened +to be passing, driving a yoke of oxen as I tumbled my hoop-poles over the +fence on to the pile.</p> + +<p>“Heow be yer?” Addressing me in a high, nasal twang peculiar to the +yeomanry of Maine, and then calling to his oxen without a change of tone, +he drawled, “Whoa! back! Whoa you, Turk! Whoa, Bright!” at the same time +hitting the oxen over their noses with his goad-stick, and resting on the +yoke, he asked, “What yer goin’ ter dew with them poles?”</p> + +<p>“Sell them,” I replied.</p> + +<p>“What dew yer want for ’em?” taking in the height and width of the pile +with a calculating eye.</p> + +<p>“Fifty cents a hundred,” I said, with some trepidation.</p> + +<p>“Don’t want nothin’, dew yer,” coming over and picking out the smallest +pole in the pile; “Pooty durned small, been’t they? What’ll yer take fur +the hull lot?”</p> + +<p>“Twenty dollars,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Twenty dollars! Whew!” Emitting a whistle that would have done credit to +a locomotive exhausting steam. “Why, thar been’t more’n a thousan’ thar, +be thar?”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, I guess there are over four thousand.”</p> + +<p>“Say!” sticking his hands in either breeches pocket and taking me in from +head to foot with a comprehensive glance, “What might yer name be?”</p> + +<p>“Ulmer,” I said.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>“No? You been’t Phil’s son, be yer?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Yer don’t tell me! Wall, by gosh! I like Phil, he’s a durned smart ’un. +I’ll tell yer what, I’d like ter see him and Jimmie Blaine a settin’ up in +them gol-durn presidential cheers; why, by gosh, they’d jist open the hull +durned treasury bildin’ an let all ther gor-ramed gold an’ silver role +right out inter the streets, by gosh, they would.” Having delivered +himself of this panegyric, together with an accumulated quantity of saliva +resulting from the constant mastication of a large tobacco quid, he again +turned his attention to the pile of poles and said, “How much did yer say +fur the lot?”</p> + +<p>“Twenty dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Twenty!” Drawing the corners of his mouth down and stroking his chin, +then turning to me, “Wall, more I look at yer, by gosh, yer do look like +Phil. Wall, I’d like purty well ter have them poles, but—,” as if a +sudden idea had struck him,—“Don’t want ter trade fur a horse, dew yer?”</p> + +<p>“What kind of a horse?”</p> + +<p>“Wall, a pooty durned good ’un. I hain’t druve him much lately, but he +yused ter go like smoke; he’s a leetle old but, will prick up his ears +like a colt when he’s a mind ter.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I do want a horse, if I can trade for one,” I said, trying not to +show anxiety.</p> + +<p>“Say, got time ter get on’ ter the waggin an go over to my farm and see +him, take dinner with me? Guess, the old woman’ll have enough for both.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>Being anxious, I accepted the invitation, and was soon on the way. He +pestered me with all kinds of questions; asked all about my family affairs +and told me all of his and every other family for miles about. Finally we +reached his house, one of those old-fashioned farm houses with several old +tumble-down sheds and out-buildings attached, near by an old barn that was +once painted red, the shingles had rotted and blown off here and there, so +you could see daylight from any portion inside. Scattered about were old +wagon boxes, odd wheels, old toothless harrows, plows, a wheelbarrow +upside down with the wheel gone, part of an old harness lying across it; +bits of harness were hanging on pegs in the barn. Geese, turkeys and +chickens were numerous and clucked about as if they were really pleased to +see us, and in fact, I discounted or anticipated the looks of the house +from the careless dilapidated appearance of every thing around and about +the old man’s farm.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i017.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> + +<p>He finally unyoked his oxen, dropped the yoke right where he took it off +and turned his cattle into the yard. “Now then, we’ll get a bite to eat, +and I’ll show you two horses, and durn me if I won’t give you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> your choice +and a good trade.” “Martha-Ann,” he called, “Martha-Ann!”</p> + +<p>In a moment a little, bright, bustling old woman came to the door and +shading her eyes with her apron, called back: “What is it, Dan’l? Did you +bring the merlasses, and candles, and the broom?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he answered back.</p> + +<p>“And the salt?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And the rennet for the cheese, and the salt-pork?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, yes,” he answered, “and I’ve brought a young man, Phil. Ulmer’s +son; goin to trade him ‘Dick.’”</p> + +<p>“What?” said she, coming out to where we were. “Now, Dan’l, you are not +going to do anything of the kind.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I be,” he said.</p> + +<p>“You shan’t, I <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'wont'">won’t</ins> have my horse sold; you know he is the only one I can +drive, and he is so kind and gentle, and the only good horse you have; you +shan’t sell him.” And then she sat down on the cart-tongue and cried as if +her heart would break, and I began to think I was going to really get a +splendid horse at a bargain.</p> + +<p>All through the dinner she sobbed, and when she would pass me bread or +anything, it was with a heartbroken sigh, and I began to want that horse.</p> + +<p>Finally dinner finished, he took me to the barn. There were two horses +together standing on the barn-floor eating corn-husk. They both looked as +if they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> never had eaten anything else. One was a bay, and the other a +grey; they were so poor that you could mistake either for a barrel with +half the staves fallen in.</p> + +<p>“Thar, sir, be two fine critters; you can have either; this grey one is +Dick, the one the old woman is so sot on, but he’s getting too frisky for +her ter handle, he’s the best dispositioned animal yer ever saw; yer do +anything with him, he’s always ready. Get him with ’tother on a load at +the bottom of a big hill and he’s thar every time; yer see, he’s a leetle +sprung in one knee thar, he done that by pulling; it don’t hurt him a bit +ter drive, and go! Why, do you know he’s trotted in two minutes? You +notice, one eye’s bit off color! Blue? Wall sir, that was strained a +leetle by watching over his blinder to see that no other hoss should pass +or get near him when he were druve on the race track twelve years ago, but +it don’t hurt him now.”</p> + +<p>“You praise this horse,” I remarked, “but don’t say a word about the +other.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he don’t need it,” said the old man dryly.</p> + +<p>I was so anxious to get a horse, I concluded to take Dick. I thought, he +must be the best on Martha-Ann’s account, and really there didn’t seem +much choice.</p> + +<p>“You want a harness and waggin too, don’t yer?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I replied, “I shall have to have something to drive him in.”</p> + +<p>“Wall, I guess I can fix you out with a full rig.”</p> + +<p>So after looking through the sheds, he pulled out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> an old gig with one +shaft broken and without wheels. “Guess I’ll find the wheels of this +somewhar. Do you know this is the same gig that very Dick yused ter haul +on the race track; he may remember it after yer hitch him into it. If he +does, you want to look out for him, and here are the wheels.”</p> + +<p>He pulled them out of a pile of old lumber and rubbish, and fitted them +on; one was badly dished in and was painted red, the other was as badly +dished out and one day had been painted yellow; but I was anxious and +didn’t object; I wanted to get home.</p> + +<p>So after getting the “gig” together, he patched a harness from the odd +pieces he found, then fitted them on to the poor horse who looked as if he +was sorry he was alive.</p> + +<p>Finally we had everything all ready. I mounted the “gig.” As I did so, I +noticed it seemed one sided, and looking at the wheels, I found one was +somewhat larger than the other, but said nothing. Taking up the lines made +up my mind to get home and fix it there. I pulled on the reins and spoke +to “Dick,” but he didn’t move. The old man took him by the bridle and led +him to the road remarking at the same time, “Dick never did like to go +away from home.”</p> + +<p>After we reached the road, the old man hit “Dick” with a hoe handle, and +off he started. It was four miles from his house to ours, and I reached +home <span class="smcaplc">NEXT DAY</span>. Figured up what the whole thing cost me: The horse stood me +$33.50, the “gig” $7.50, and the harness, (?) 75 cents. This was my outfit +to make or break me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> My brothers laughed at my trade, but I didn’t care, +I had a purpose, and I was bound to accomplish it.</p> + +<p>When I wanted to use my “rig,” to harness the horse, I was obliged to take +a ladder to put his bridle on, lead him alongside of the steps to put the +saddle and breeching on, and back him up to the well-curb to put his tail +in the “crupper,” and after he was hitched to the “gig,” nine times out of +ten he would wait till he was ready to go.</p> + +<p>Some time after I learned that uncle “Dan’l” was a regular horse dealer +and kept just such old plugs around him, and that they were always his +wife’s favorites when the old man wanted to get one off his hands. +However, Dick and I became great friends. I fixed up the old “gig,” and it +answered my purpose. I got there with it.</p> + +<p>It became a customary daily routine for me to harness this poor animal, +start at sundown and drive all night. Where? Why to Augusta to try and get +mustered in, but I would always ride back broken hearted and disappointed, +my ardor, however, not dampened a bit. I became a guy to my brothers and +neighbors. My father and step-sister indulged me in my fancy, helping me +all they could—father by furnishing me with money, and step-sister by +putting up little lunches for my pilgrimages during the night. They +thought me partially insane, and judged it would be best to let me have my +own idea, with the hope that it would soon wear off. But it didn’t. I +would not give up. The Yankee yearning for fight had possession of me, and +I could neither eat, sleep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> nor work. I was bound to be a soldier. I +prayed for it, and I sometimes thought, my prayers were answered; that the +war should last ’till I was big enough to be one—for it did.</p> + +<p>I had enlisted four times in different towns, and each time I went before +a mustering officer, I was rejected. “Too small” I was every time +pronounced, but I was not discouraged or dismayed—the indomitable pluck +and energy of those downeast boys pervaded my system. I was bound to get +there, for what I didn’t know, I did not care or didn’t stop to think. I +only thought of the glory of being a soldier, little realizing what an +absurd-looking one I would make; but the ambition was there, the pluck was +there, and the patriotism of a man entered the breast of the wild dreamy +boy. I wanted to go to the front—and I went.</p> + +<p>After several unsuccessful attempts to be mustered into the service at +Augusta, which was twenty-five miles from our little farm, I thought I +would enlist from the town of Freedom and thereby get before a different +mustering officer who was located in Belfast. I had grown, I thought, in +the past six weeks, and before a new officer, I thought my chances of +being accepted would improve; so on a bright morning in September I +mounted my “gig,” behind my little old gray horse, who seemed to say, as +he turned his head to look at me when I jumped on to the seat, “What a +fool you are, making me haul you all that distance, when you know they +won’t have you!” but kissing my little step-sister good-bye, with a wave +of my hand to father and brothers who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> stood in the yard and door of the +dear old home, I drove away, and as I did so I could see the expressions +of ridicule and doubt on their faces, while underneath it all there was a +tinge of sadness and fear. They did not think for a moment. I would be +mustered into the army, yet fear took possession of them when I drove off, +for they knew my determined disposition.</p> + +<p>Well, I arrived in Belfast. Instead of driving direct to the stable and +hotel, and putting my horse up, I drove direct to the office of the +mustering officer. I did not need to fasten my trusty horse, for he knew +it would only be a few moments, and as I went to the office door, he +turned his head and whinnied as if he were laughing at me. I entered that +office like a young Napoleon. I had made up my mind to walk in before the +officer very erect and dignified, even to raising myself on tiptoe. On +telling the clerk my errand, he ushered me into an inner office, and +imagine my surprise—my consternation—when, swinging around in his chair, +I found myself in the presence of the very officer who had rejected me in +Augusta so many times.</p> + +<p>“Damn it,” said he, “will you never let up? Go home to your mother, boy, +don’t pester me any more. I will not accept you, and let that end it.”</p> + +<p>I tremblingly told him “I had grown since he saw me last, and that by the +time I was mustered in I would grow some more, and that I would drum and +fight, if it should prove actually necessary.”</p> + +<p>Thus I pleaded with him for fully one hour. Finally he said, “Well, damned +if I don’t muster<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> you in, just to get rid of you. Sergeant, make out this +young devil’s papers and let him go and get killed.” My heart leaped into +my mouth. I tried to thank him, but he would not have it. He hurried me +through, and at 5:30 <span class="smcaplc">P. M.</span>, September 15, 1863, I was a United States +soldier. And when I donned that uniform, what a looking soldier! The +smallest clothes they issued looked on me as if it would make a suit for +my entire family, but in spite of the misfit, I took them and put them on, +with the pants legs rolled up to the knees, and the overcoat dragging on +the ground.</p> + +<p>I went out of that office as proud as a peacock, but a laughing-stock for +the boys, and all who gazed at me. I think even the old horse smiled and +looked askance; he acted as if I was fooling him, and hungry as he was, +when he turned towards the stable, he dragged along as if he either were +sorry or ashamed to draw me among people; but I cared not for their jeers +and laughs. I was now a soldier and anxious to get home. I pictured the +feeling and joyous greetings of my brothers and sister as they would see +me ride up in my uniform; how the boys would envy me, and how the sister +would throw her arms about me and kiss me, and how her bosom would heave +with pride as she gazed upon the uniform that covered her hero brother. +Oh! I pictured it all in my boyish fancy, and hastened all my +arrangements, so full of joy that I could scarcely eat. I would not wait +till morning, but started home about midnight, arriving there just at +sunrise.</p> + +<p> </p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i025.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> + +<p>It was on the 17th of September, 1863, one of those bright, balmy days +that we have in good old New England, seated in a “gig,” might be seen the +writer of this little sketch, dressed in soldiers’ clothes, covered by one +of those familiar cape overcoats that nearly covered the “gig” and poor +old horse. I felt as proud as if I was the general in command of all the +army.</p> + +<p>Instead of giving the family a surprise, they had heard of my enlisting +from the stage-driver, and I found them all in tears. But when I made my +appearance tears changed to laughter, for the sight of me I think was +enough to give them hope. They didn’t believe our government would have +such a little, ill-dressed soldier. And father said, after looking me all +over: “Well, if they have mustered you in, after they see you in that +uniform it will be muster out, my boy.”</p> + +<p>In about ten days I received orders to report in Augusta. Then the family +realized there was more in it than they at first thought, but consoled +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>themselves with the belief that when I reached headquarters, I would be +found useless, and sent home. I went away, leaving them with that feeling +of hope struggling behind their copious tears. And the lingering kiss of +my little step-sister, and her soft sobbing, “Don’t, don’t, please don’t +go,” as she hung around my neck, ran constantly in my mind from that time +till now. All through the nights, on the long marches, in all my troubles, +that soft, sweet voice was calling, “George, please, please, don’t go.” +And I could see her little form, and her ever-thoughtful face, a guiding +star and a compass that ever guided me away from the shoals and +quicksands. She was an angel companion to me all through the trials and +hardships of that awful war.</p> + +<p>Well, I arrived in Portland, was sent to the barracks with three or four +thousand others, was allotted a hard bunk, and then for the first time did +I realize what I was doing, what I had committed myself to, and I think if +I could have caught that mustering officer I should have appealed to him +just as hard to muster me out, as I did to muster me in; but I was in it +and must stay. I will never forget the first day of my soldier experience. +With what feeling of awe and thumping of my cowardly, timid heart, I heard +the different commands of the officers. The disciplining began; the +routine of a soldier’s life had really started right in Portland, far away +from the front where I had only expected to find it. I was detained in +those barracks only a few days, and the tap of the drum, and the sound of +the bugle as they sounded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> their different calls, had grown monotonous to +me; I no longer regarded them with awe, but with mockery. I wanted to go +to the front where the real life of a soldier was known, where glory could +be won. I wanted the reality, not boy’s play.</p> + +<p>I was glad when I was numbered among a squad of about 200 who had orders +to go to Washington. That night we marched down to the depot and were +crowded into cars. I did not care; I was overjoyed: I was delighted at the +prospects of going to the seat of war, near the front, where I thought I +might hear the booming of the cannon, and to a place where I would soon be +forwarded to my regiment. We arrived in Boston, and to my disappointment, +were laid over. We were marched to the barracks on Beach street, which in +early days was the “Beach Street Theater.” The seats, benches, gallery, +stage and scenery were all there, and we were crowded into this old, +unused temple of Thespis to select a place to sleep where best we could, +on the floor, or anywhere. Here I began to grow sick of soldiering; we +were in this old musty theater with a guard over us, not allowed to go on +the street, and unable to find out how long we were to be incarcerated +there, for we were treated more like prisoners than men who had +volunteered to serve their country.</p> + +<p>I thought it a great hardship at that time, and kicked at it loud and +hard, without any result that benefited us; but since I have been through +it all, I can see where it was absolutely necessary to use the rigid and +seemingly ungrateful discipline. Well, we were kept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> in the old theater +for about a week; we ware allowed out for two hours each day on passes, +and in the evening we sang songs and “acted” on the stage. Each one who +could recite or do anything did it, and it was appreciated by a deadhead +audience, something unusual nowadays. It was here in this old Beach Street +Theater that my future life was undoubtedly mapped out; from that time I +was impressed with a desire to become an actor, and there is no doubt that +the seed was planted then and grew and increased in after years.</p> + +<p>On the 11th of November, we were ordered to Washington, and embarked on +the steamboat train via Fall River, and I shall never forget when we +arrived in New York, the demonstration, the greeting, the cheers, the +God-speeds that we received as we marched through the city to the ferry, +and it seemed to me that I was the one all this was meant for; I thought I +was a hero. It seemed that all eyes were on me, and perhaps they were, for +among all those Maine giants I belied my state, for I was a dot only, a +pigmy beside those mighty woodsmen.</p> + +<p>We arrived in Washington without mishap. I was granted permission to go +over the city, and then to report to the commanding officer of the camp at +Alexandria. My first desire when I found myself with a privilege in the +great capital was to visit President Lincoln, have a talk with him and +also with Secretary Stanton. My admiration for those two men was almost +love, and I fancied, now that I was a soldier, that I could easily meet +them; that they <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>would grasp me by the hand, compliment and shower me +with congratulations and advice. It is needless to say that I found out +that I had overestimated my importance; I did not discuss the war +situation with either of those gentlemen. I was a little crestfallen at +not meeting them, but contented myself by looking over the city; and +wherever I went I noticed I was scrutinized by everybody; soldiers on +guard would come to a halt, hesitate and then present arms; some officers +would pass me by, then turn and look me over from head to foot; others +would touch their caps and then turn and watch me with a kind of wondering +gaze, as much as to say, “What is it?”</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i029.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption"><i>Our Troops Passing Through Washington to the Front.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p>I forgot to mention that while in Portland I had a tailor make me a very +handsome suit of military clothes. He was as ignorant of the regulation +style as I was. He only knew the colors and knew that I wanted it nice and +handsome. He made it and so covered it over with gold braid and ornaments, +that you could not tell whether I was a drum-major or a brigadier-general; +that accounted for the salutations and looks of astonishment I received.</p> + +<p>The first night I was tired out and started for Alexandria; arrived at +headquarters about midnight, and told the sentry I must see the colonel. +He thought I had important messages, or was some officer, and escorted me +to the colonel’s quarters. I woke him up, told him I had reported and +wanted a bed.</p> + +<p>The colonel said, “Is that all you want? Corporal, put this man in the +guard-house.” He did!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>That was my first experience, and I always after tried to avoid +guard-houses. The next morning I was given a broom and put to sweeping +around camp with about twenty tough-looking customers. The broom did not +look well with my uniform, and as soon as an officer noticed me, I was +summoned before the colonel in command. He asked, what I was? I told him I +didn’t know yet—would not know ’till I reached my regiment. He had a +hearty laugh at my appearance; said I ought to be sent to some fair +instead of the front. However, he detailed me as his orderly. I held this +position some time, until one day there was going to be a squad of +recruits, and returned furloughed men sent on a steam-barge to the front +at City Point, where Butler was bottled up. I asked to be one of them. The +colonel told me I was foolish, and better stay with him, but I insisted; +and he allowed me to go. The barge was a kind of an open double-deck boat +without cabin or shelter, and they crowded us on to her as thick as we +could stand; we were like sardines. I secured a position against the +smoke-stack, and before we reached Chesapeake bay I was glad of it, for it +became bitterly cold, and I curled down around this smoke-stack, went to +sleep, and when I awoke in the morning I was crisp, dirty, and nearly +roasted alive. We crossed the bay in the afternoon. Oh, wasn’t it rough! +This old river barge would roll and pitch out of sight at times, and we +were all wet from head to foot. Then I began to wish myself home on the +farm again; but I was in for it, and could not back out. I had one +thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> that buoyed me up, the thought of meeting my brother.</p> + +<p>That evening we passed by Fortress Monroe, up the James river. There was +not much transpired to relieve the monotony or appease our hunger or +thirst; in fact, it began to look dubious as to reaching City Point. The +monotony, however, was somewhat relieved in the morning. About daylight a +commotion was caused by the sound of distant cannonading. Every one +crowded to the front of the boat; everybody was asking questions of +everybody. Each one had some idea to offer as to the cause. Some ventured +to say it was a gunboat up the river practising. One old chap, who had +evidently been to the front, facetiously claimed that it was the corks out +of Butler’s bottles. The river was very crooked at this point, and you +could not see very far; but presently we rounded a bend in the river, +which revealed to us where the cannonading came from, but for what, we +could not make out. About a mile ahead of us lay a United States gunboat, +and every few minutes a puff of smoke, and then a loud +bang—erang—erang—erang—with its long vibrations on that still morning, +awoke a sense of fear in everyone aboard that boat. No one could account +for the situation. Even the captain of the barge stood with pallid cheek, +seemingly in doubt what to do as he rang the bell to slow down; but on—on +we kept moving—nearer and nearer this most formidable war-ship, and as we +did so the shots became more frequent. Then we noticed a man on the bank +waving a flag back and forth, up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> and down in a wild, excited sort of a +way. I asked what that meant. An old soldier said the man was signaling +the boat to let them know they had hit the target.</p> + +<p>Suddenly we were brought to an understanding of what it all meant, for we +could now hear the musketry very plain, and could even see the rebels on +the banks of the river. At this point a “gig” from the gunboat pulled +alongside and gave orders to the captain “to land those troops at once,” +telling him at the same time that this was Fort Powhatan landing; that +Fitzhugh Lee with his cavalry had swooped down upon the garrison, which +was only composed of two hundred negro troops, and that they must be +re-enforced. The captain protested, as the troops on board were all +unarmed, being returned furloughed men and recruits; but it was no use, +the order was imperative, and the captain headed his barge toward the +shore. There was no wharf. That had been burnt, so he was obliged to run +as far as he could onto the sand, then land us overboard. I tell you as +that boat neared toward the shore, my face felt as if it were marbleized; +sharp twinges ran up and down my whole body, and I’ll bet that I was the +picture of a coward. I was not the only one. I looked them all over, every +one looked just as I felt. One man who stood near me, I know, was more +frightened than I, for he was so frightened he smelt badly. But I didn’t +blame any of those poor men; it was not the pleasantest thing in the world +to be <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>placed before the enemy as we were. However, we all landed.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i035.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption"><i>Battle between Monitor and Merrimack off Fortress Monroe.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p>The firing above us on the bank became more intense. An officer who was on +the boat with us, returning from a leave of absence, assumed command. He +ordered us to fall into line, and marched us into a little ravine, halted, +and told us the position and necessity of the occasion. He said the fort +was a very important position, and must be held at all hazards; that there +were only two hundred colored troops there, and they could not hold it. +Now, he proposed, as we had no arms, to go in with a rush and a yell, and +make those rebels think that re-enforcements had arrived. All this time +the musketry firing was increasing. The whizz of bullets through the air +and about our heads were becoming too frequent. I was in the front rank, +center of the line, and I tell you I think I had a little of that +frightened smell about me at this time. Whether it was that or my looks or +what, the officer probably took pity on me and told me to skirmish in the +rear. I hardly knew where the rear was, but I thought it would be safer +under the bank of the river, and there I hastened, and none too soon, for +the rebels had made a break through the lines and poured several volleys +into our poor, unarmed re-enforcements. The rebs became more cautious, and +that was what was wanted, as the only hope we had was to hold them at bay +until re-enforcements could arrive.</p> + +<p>Well, I skirmished in the rear, and I found it hotter than the front, for +the rebs would crawl to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> bank at either end of the breastworks and +kept a cross-fire up and down the river. Under and against the banking, +there was a sort of old barn; this was filled with hay. The bullets were +flying around so thickly that I squeezed myself behind this barn, and +after I was well in, the bullets just rained against that old building; +but I felt pretty secure till I looked up overhead—I saw that while I was +in safety from bullets, a worse danger threatened me. The overhanging bank +was liable to cave in and bury me alive.</p> + +<p>The uncertainty of my position became more and more apparent. Each moment +the increased storm of bullets on the barn prevented me from even looking +out, and the constant rattling down of dirt and pebbles from above, told +me plainly what a position I was in. I tell you I wished then I had never +been mustered in. The uncertainty of my position was soon developed. I +came to myself and found I was buried to my neck; my head and face were +cut and bleeding, and a soldier was trying to wipe the sand from my eyes +and ears. I found I had not been shot, but the banking had caved in and +buried me. Gen. “Baldy” Smith, who was in command, happened to see me +behind the barn just as the bank caved in. It was he who put the soldiers +at work to rescue me. As soon as I was out, and the dust out of my eyes, +the general rode down to the beach, leading an extra horse; he called to +me. Ordered me to mount. I did so. He made me his orderly.</p> + +<p>A new danger. I was to carry dispatches across the field, but I did not +now have the fear I did at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> first. I did not mind the sound of the +bullets. I became accustomed to it, and I rode back and forth all day long +without a scratch. I believe I was so small that I rode between those +bullets, and from that time forth I had no fear. I felt as though I were +bullet-proof. I felt as if it were ordained that I should go through the +war unscathed and unscarred. It did seem so, for I would go through places +where it rained bullets, and come out without a scratch. This was my +experience all through, and was commented on by comrades, who said I had a +charmed life. Well, the day wore away the rebs making feints first at one +point, then another. Finally they concentrated their forces against one +point, and would have carried it, too, but just then a steamboat loaded +with troops rounded the bend of the river. Well, the shouts that went up +from the handful of brave soldiers at the sight of that boat I never can +forget. The boys on the boat caught the sound. They took in the situation, +and answered back the shout with three long, hearty cheers. It created +consternation in the rebel lines. They knew the jig was up, but they drew +up in line, like dare-devils that they were, and with a cool deliberation, +poured volley after volley into the side of the steamer until her nose +touched the shore. Well, to see those soldiers leave that steamer was a +sight never to be forgotten. They jumped overboard from every part of her. +It did not seem five minutes from the time she touched shore until the +banks were swarming with our boys in blue. The rebels had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> taken to +flight—our boys followed some distance, and then returned, relieving us +and allowing us to embark again for City Point. After the rebels had +retreated, I went outside the breastworks, and the sight that met my eyes +on every side would curdle the blood of stouter hearts than mine. It +appeared that Lee, with his cavalry, had surprised the pickets, and being +negroes, every one they captured they would hang up to a tree after they +were mutilated. I saw several with fingers cut off in order to obtain a +ring quickly, and many other sickening sights which tended to make me a +hardened soldier. I was having lots of experience, even before I had +really reached my regiment, and I tell you, the heroic ardor of my boyish +dream was beginning to ooze out of me quite fast. I began to think I was +not cut for a soldier.</p> + +<p>Well, my first battle was over, my first experience before an enemy. The +first sound of musketry had died away, and we were again steaming towards +City Point to join our regiments. We arrived there the next night about +ten o’clock. There didn’t seem to be any one in command of us or any one +to direct us. It was very dark on shore, but in the distance you could see +a glaring light above the horizon, as if there was a long building on +fire. But from the occasional sound of guns from that quarter, I made up +my mind it was the advance line of our army. It was Butler’s command, and +our regiment, the Eighth Maine, must be there. The Eighth Maine, Company +H, was the regiment and company to which my brother belonged, and in which +I was enlisted. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> started out across the fields in the direction of the +light—on, on I tramped, into ditches, through mires, over fences. The +farther I went the faster I went. I was so impatient I could not hold +myself to a walk; it was a dog-trot all the time. I was heedless of every +obstacle, till I began to near the front. I realized the danger by the +whizzing of shell, and the zip, zip of bullets. I found myself among lots +of soldiers, and how ragged and dirty the poor fellows looked. I asked the +first man I came to where the Eighth Maine was? He looked at me in perfect +astonishment. “This is the Eighth, what’s left of it.” I asked him if he +knew where my brother was—Charley Ulmer? “Oh, yes,” he said, and pointing +to a little group of men, who were round a wee bit of a fire; “there he +is, don’t you know him?”</p> + +<p>I hesitated, for really I could hardly tell one from the other. He saw my +bewilderment, and took me by the arm and led me over to the fire. They all +started and stared at me, and to save my life I could not tell which was +my brother; but one more ragged than the rest uttered a suppressed cry, +rushed forward, and throwing his arm about my neck, sobbed and cried like +a child. “My God! my brother! Oh George, George, why did you come here?” +His grief seemed to touch them all, for they all began to wipe their eyes +with their ragged coat-sleeves. This began to tell on me, and for the next +ten minutes it was a kind of a blubbering camp. After awhile they +reconciled themselves, and began to ply me with questions faster than I +could answer. My brother sat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> down with me and lectured me very soundly +for coming, as there was no need of it. He gave a graphic description of +the hardships they had endured, and I can never obliterate the picture he +presented that night. His clothes were ragged and patched, begrimed with +smoke, grease and dirt; his hat an old soft one, with part of the rim gone +and the crown perforated with bullet holes; his beard scraggly and dirty; +his big toes peeping out of a pair of old boots with the heels all run +down, in fact, he was a sight—a strong contrast to my tailor-made suit. I +will never forget the expression on my brother’s face when about half an +hour after my arrival he looked up to me with his eyes half full of tears +glistening on that dirty face, and with a kind of cynical smile, asked, +after looking me over and over: “What are you, anyhow?”</p> + +<p>I told him I didn’t know.</p> + +<p>“Well, after you have been here awhile, those pretty clothes won’t look as +they do now, and you will probably find out what you are after you have +dodged a few shells.”</p> + +<p>Our conversation was brought to a climax by orders to break camp and fall +in. We learned we were going to embark somewhere on a boat; everything was +hustle-bustle now; little sheltered tents were struck, tin cups, canteens, +knapsacks were made ready, and in about fifteen minutes that begrimed, +dirty, hungry family of Uncle Sam’s was on the march to the river. We were +marched on board an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> old ferry-boat, and crowded so thickly that we could +scarcely stand. My brother seemed now to feel that he had the +responsibility of my comfort, even my life, on his hands—and being a +favorite he elbowed me a place at the end of the boat, where we could sit +down by letting our feet hang over the end of the boat. In that position +we remained. We didn’t have room to stand up and turn around. I was awful +sleepy, but dared not go to sleep for fear I would fall overboard. Finally +my brother fixed me so I could lay my head back, and he held on to me +while I slept. The next morning we landed at a place called West Point, on +the York river; why we landed there we didn’t know. Of course soldiers +never did know anything of the whys and wherefores; they only obeyed +orders, stood up or laid down and got killed—they had no choice in the +matter. Well, we landed, and I tell you, we were stiff and hungry. While +they were unloading the horses, which was done by lowering them into the +water and letting them swim ashore, which took some time, they allowed us +a chance to skirmish for food. About half a mile from the river were a +dozen houses—nice-looking places. Towards these we started; they were all +closed up; they all looked deserted; there was not a sign of life, except +the cackle of hens or chickens in the hen-house. Chickens were good enough +for us, and I was one of the first to get to the pen; secured two handfuls +of chicks, and was just emerging with them when a big woman confronted me; +she stood and looked me straight in the eye,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> and with both hands held on +to a mastiff, that to me looked as big as an ox.</p> + +<p>“How dare you?” said she.</p> + +<p>“I don’t,” said I.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing with my chickens, you good-for-nothing Yankee thief?”</p> + +<p>I tried to apologize, but it was no use. Even my pretty uniform had no +more effect than my eloquence. I simply put Mr. and Mrs. Chicks down and +backed out of the yard. She was good enough to hold on to the dog, for +which I was very grateful. I think I had more respect for the dog than the +lady. However, I had to resort to pork and hard tack for my breakfast. +About noon that day we began our march. Where we were going, <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'everbody'">everybody</ins> +guessed, but none knew. I didn’t care. I was now a kind of a half-settled +soldier, but from the first, I was a kind of privileged character. No one +gave me orders. No one seemed to claim me. I had never been assigned to +any company. I never had to answer roll-call. I could go and come as I +pleased. Once in awhile a guard would halt me, but not often. They didn’t +know what I was, and they didn’t care. All the afternoon we marched. Our +route was along the railroad, the rails of which had the appearance of +being recently torn up by the rebels. About four o’clock I was becoming +very tired. We came to a clearing, and some distance in the field was a +darky plowing with a mule. I made a break for him, and the rest of that +march I rode. No one objected, but the boys shouted as I made my +appearance on the mule; a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> mile or two further along we sighted a +farm-house. I drew reins on my mule and made for the house; I made the +boys glad on my return, for I secured a demijohn of applejack, a big +bundle of tobacco, and a box of eggs. That successful raid gave me +courage, and I began to think that was what I was destined for, and I +liked it first-rate, for it was a pleasure to me to see those poor, hungry +boys have any delicacy, or even enough of ordinary food.</p> + +<p>That night we had to halt, for the rebs had burned the bridge, and we had +to wait for pontoons. The boys were tired and hungry. A guard was posted +to prevent any foraging, but I was a privileged character, and I bolted +through the lines. I had seen some pigs and calves scamper into the swamp +about half a mile back from where we halted, and thinking a bit of fresh +meat would be nice for the boys, I determined to have some. Cautiously I +stole away, till I arrived at the edge of the swamp; and such a jungle! It +was almost impossible to penetrate it, so I skirted the edge, hoping to +see a pig emerge. After tramping an hour I was rewarded by seeing a calf. +I drew my revolver, sneaked up and fired at poor bossy. It dropped—I was +a good shot—but when I reached the poor beast I found it was as poor as a +rail and covered with sores as big as my hand. I was disappointed, but cut +off as much as I could that was not sore, and took it to camp. We put the +kettles on the fires in short order, and my brother’s company had fresh +meat broth—the first fresh meat in a month—and I tell you it was good,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +even if it had been sore. After that episode Company H claimed me and +dubbed me their mascot. I accepted the position, and from that time forth +I devoted my time to foraging, stealing anything I could for my company, +and I doubt if there was a company in the whole army that fared better +than ours, for I was always successful in my expeditions.</p> + +<p>After a long, tedious march across pontoons, over corduroy roads, we +confronted the Johnnies at “Cold Harbor.” It was here that I found myself +in a real, genuine battle. I got lost in the scuffle. I found myself +amidst bursting shell and under heavy musketry fire. I was bewildered and +frightened. I did not know which way to go. I ran this way and that, +trying to find my brother and regiment. Every turn I made it seemed I +encountered more bullets and shells. Soldiers were shouting and running in +every direction, artillery was galloping here and there, on every side it +seemed they were fighting for dear life. On one side of me I saw horses +and men fall and pile up on top of each other. Cannon and caissons with +broken wheels were turned upside down, riderless horses were scampering +here and there, officers were riding and running in all directions, the +shells were whizzing through the air, and soldiers shouting at the top of +their voices. Everything seemed upside down. I thought the world had come +to an end. I tried to find shelter behind a tree, away from the bullets, +but as soon as I found shelter on one side it seemed as though the bullets +and shells came from all sides, and I lay down in utter despair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> and +fright. I don’t know how long I was there, but when I awoke I thought the +war was over, it was so still. I thought every one had been killed on both +sides, excepting myself. I was just thinking I would try and find a live +horse, ride back to Washington and tell them that the war was over, +everybody was killed, when my brother tapped me on the shoulder and asked +me where I had been. He had gone through it all, escaped with the loss of +one toe, and had come to the rear to have it dressed and find me.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i047.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption"><i>Desperate Charge of Confederates to Capture a Union Battery.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p>The next morning I was sent with the “Stretcher Corps” under a flag of +truce to the battle field to help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> take the wounded to the rear and bury +the dead, and when we reached the scene, how well could I imagine what the +awful struggle had been. The worst of the great conflict had occurred in +an orchard, and there the sight was most appalling; dead and dying heroes +were lying about as thick as a slumbering camp would be, sleeping with +their guns for pillows the night before a battle; to many of those poor +fellows it was that sleep that knows no waking, while to others it was the +awaking from unconsciousness by the twinges of a mortal gaping wound, +awake just long enough to get a glimpse of the Gates Ajar, sink back and +start on that journey from which no traveler returns.</p> + +<p>Blue and the gray were mingled together on this awful field of slaughter, +and both sides seemed to respect the solemnity by a cessation of +hostilities, and the hushed silence was only broken by the painful cry of +some helpless wounded, or dying groans of others. The little white cloth +we wore around our arms to denote, we belonged to the stretcher corps, +seemed to add to the sadness of the occasion, for to those poor wounded +souls we were like ministering angels, and as I moved from one to the +other with tear dimmed eyes offering water and assistance to those who +needed it I saw many incidents of bravery and self-sacrifice that went far +toward ameliorating the suffering and obliterating the bitterness of the +blue and the gray. I noticed one poor fellow who had spread his rubber +blanket to catch the dew of the night sharing the moisture thus gathered +with an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> unfortunate confederate who had lost a leg. Another, a +confederate was staying the life-blood of a union officer by winding his +suspenders around the mangled limb. Oh! the horror of such a picture can +never be penned—or told, and contemplated only by soldiers who have been +there.</p> + +<p>One-half of our regiment had been killed or wounded. After this things +settled down into a siege. I employed my time foraging for the company. +One day I found an apple orchard, gathered as many apples as I could +carry, took them to the company and made apple-sauce without sweetening. +They ate very heartily of it, poor fellows. It was a treat for them; but +it was a bad find, for the next day the whole lot of them were unfit for +duty. That nearly put a stop to my reconnoitering. Our regiment lay here +in the advance line of breastworks for thirteen days. The sappers and +miners were constantly working our breastworks towards the enemy, and +every time I wanted to reach my company I found it in a new place and more +difficult to reach. The rebel sharpshooters, with their deadly aim, were +waiting for such chaps as me. However, under cover of night, I always +managed to find and reach the company with some palatable relish.</p> + +<p>I will never forget one night; four men were detailed to go to the rear +for rations. The commissary was located about two miles to the rear, and +the wagon could only haul the rations within one mile of us on account of +jungle and rebel sharpshooters. Therefore these men were detailed to pack +the rations the rest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> of the way. I was one of the detail from my company. +We went back to the covered wagons that were waiting for us. The boys said +I was too small to walk, and they threw me into the rear end of one of the +wagons. We got to the commissary tent—a long tent open at both ends—and +from both ends they weighed out the rations of coffee, sugar, etc. While +the soldier who was doing the weighing on one end had his back turned, I +managed to fill my haversack from a full barrel of coffee that stood at +the end of the tent. I had two haversacks for that purpose, for I went +there with that intent; but I came away with only one filled. I could not +get a chance for the other; it was on the wrong side. Finally the rations +were all aboard, and we started back. The boys repeated the operation of +throwing me into the wagon again, and there was my opportunity. I would +fill my other haversack from the bags in the wagon; that’s what the boys +expected I would do, and I did from the first bag I could get into. Each +company had its own bag.</p> + +<p>When we arrived at the breastworks my company crowded around me for +plunder. I divided it up, and was looked upon as quite a hero, but when +the rations were issued it was found our company’s bag was short about +thirty rations of sugar, but no one said a word. It was surmised that it +got spilled. Day after day our regiment lay there and our army did not +seem to gain anything. I was becoming disgusted and discouraged.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i051.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption"><i>My First Day in Front of Petersburg.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>One night the Johnnies made a charge on us. That was the only time I ever +fired a gun in the whole war, and I honestly believe I killed a dozen men, +for immediately after they stopped firing. It was only a few moments, +however; on they came, only to be repulsed. They kept that up nearly all +night, and I served my country by standing down in the trench, loading a +gun and passing it up to my brother to fire. I did this all night, but I +didn’t see any less rebels in the morning. Our next order was to fall +back, under cover of darkness. We fell back about a mile and halted for +some reason, I thought to get breakfast. Anyway I built a little fire +behind a stone wall, put my coffee-pot on and the remnants of a pot of +beans. They were getting nice and hot; my brother and I stood waiting, +smacking our lips in the anticipation of a feast, when whizz came one of +those nasty little “Cohorn” mortor shells and it dropped right into our +coffee and beans. Then the bugle sounded, “fall in,” and we started with +downcast hearts and empty stomachs, and a longing good-bye to the debris +of beans and coffee. It was a tiresome march. Of course, we didn’t know +where we were going, and that made it all the longer.</p> + +<p>We eventually brought up at White-House landing on the York river, where +we were put on board of a steam transport without being given time to draw +rations. From there we steamed down the York and up the James river to the +Appomattox, and up the river to Point of Rocks. We landed here on the +Bermuda Hundred side, in the rear of Butler’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> works, obtained some bread +and coffee, and then crossed the Appomattox on pontoons and pushed on +towards Petersburg. Our regiment belonged at that time to the 2nd brigade, +2nd division of the 18th corps, commanded by Major General “Baldy” Smith.</p> + +<p>We soon met the enemy’s pickets in front of Petersburg. They fled before +that long, serpentine file of blue-coats like deer. On, on we went. We +could see the rebels running in their shirt sleeves, throwing coats, guns +and everything in their mad flight. I don’t think there was a shot fired +on either side ’till we reached a fort, Smith I think it was called. It +was just at dusk. This fort was located on a mound or hill with a ravine +in front of it. Our brigade was drawn up in line of battle in a +wheat-field on the right. A colored brigade was ordered to charge the fort +from the hill opposite, and across this ravine; then I beheld one of the +grandest and most awful sights I ever saw; those colored troops started on +a double quick, and as they descended the hill, the fort poured volley +after volley into them. The men seemed to fall like blades of grass before +a machine, but it did not stop them; they rallied and moved on; it was +only the work of a few minutes. With a yell they were up and into that +fort, and in less time than it takes to tell it, the guns were turned on +the fleeing rebels. Here was the greatest mistake of our greatest +commander. All of our army was brought to a standstill by some one’s +foolish order. Not another move was made. We lay there waiting, and all +night long we could hear the trains rumbling along on the other side of +the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> Appomattox river. Lee had been outwitted. We had stolen a march on +him. We had arrived in front of defenseless Petersburg, and could have +gone right in and on to Richmond without a struggle. But that fatal order +to halt gave him all night to hurry his forces from Cold Harbor, and in +the morning we found plenty of determined rebels in front of us, and +thereby the war was prolonged months and hundreds and thousands of lives +lost. I swore all night. I kicked and condemned every general there was in +the army for the blunder I saw they were making. I only wished I could be +the general commanding for one hour. But it was no use; I couldn’t be.</p> + +<p>I was nothing but a boy. But I had my ideas. I thought, perhaps, more than +some of the officers did. I kept myself posted on facts and the topography +of the country. The dispositions of generals was a matter of grave +importance to me. I believed generals should be selected to command, <span class="smcaplc">NOT</span> +for their qualifications in military tactics alone, <span class="smcaplc">NOT</span> because they had +graduated well-dressed from “West Point,” but for their indomitable pluck, +judgment and honesty of purpose. It did seem to me that some of our best +officers were invariably placed in the most unimportant positions and +commands. Take, for instance, “Custer’s” Brigade of daring men, headed by +those intrepid officers, Alger and Towns, wasting their time and +imperiling the lives of thousands of good soldiers around “Emettsburg,” +“Gordonsville,” “Bottom Bridge,” carrying out the foolish orders of +superiors in command. Why could not these officers of cool<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> judgment be +with us at this critical moment?—they made <span class="smcaplc">THEIR</span> victories, what would +they have done had they the great opportunities that were presented to +others who failed?</p> + +<p>All night about the camp-fire the boys would delight in nagging +me—getting me into arguments and debates. They called me the “midget +orator of the Army of the Potomac.” I will never forget one night soon +after the advance on Petersburg; we were clustered about with coffee cups +and pipes; an argument waxed warm in regard to the possibilities of the +war lasting two more years; finally I was called upon for my views. +“Midget,” said Col. McArthur, “if you had supreme command of our army, +what would you do?”</p> + +<p>What would I do? If Uncle Sam would give me one regiment from each State +in the Union—give me Grant, Burnside, Sherman, Sheridan, Custer, Alger, +Hooker, Hancock, Thomas and Siegel to command them, I would take Richmond +and settle the rebellion before they had time to wire and ask Stanton if I +should. This was received with cheering and applause. But my boyish +fancies and ideas were never gratified; I never had the pleasure of seeing +my ideal army together, and Richmond was not taken for many months +afterward.</p> + +<p>A few days after our regiment was drawn up in line of battle in a +wheatfield. It was just nightfall. I was lying down on the bank of a ditch +waiting for the move-forward. Suddenly a shell came over my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> head and bust +right in the center of my company. I thought I saw legs and arms flying in +all directions.</p> + +<p>I started on the dead run for the rear. I believed I was going right, but +it seemed as if the shells were coming from our own guns in the rear. I +thought they had mistaken us for the enemy. I could see the shells coming, +and every time they would fire, I would fall on my stomach, and thought +they all went just over my head. I was soon, however, out of range, and +began to feel easy, when a new fear took possession of me. What if I had, +in my bewilderment, run into the rebel lines? I saw just ahead of me an +old-fashioned southern mansion, with a high board fence all around it, and +in the inclosure several small cabins used for the slaves to live in. I +could not remember seeing this before, so I made up my mind I was actually +inside rebeldom. However, I decided to make the best of it, and if I were +or were not I would see if I could find something to eat. With fear and +faltering steps I moved toward the big gate, swung it open, and it gave an +awful squeak as it swung on its old rusty hinges. There was not a sign of +life in or about the place, and that gave me hope and courage. In the +center of the yard was a large hen-house. Cautiously toward this I +crawled, heard the cackle of fowl, went first on one side then on the +other, looking for the door; and imagine my surprise, the fear that took +possession of me—my hair stood on end; for sitting there on a bench back +of this hen-house were two big Johnnies. I <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'could'nt'">couldn’t</ins> speak, I couldn’t +move, till one of them said, “Good evening,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> sar; got anything to eat?” +“Yes, yes,” I stammered, “I have some hard-tack.” Finally, one of them +seeing I was most scared to death, spoke up and said, “Don’t be alarmed; +we are only deserters and want to give ourselves up; show us to +headquarters.” I was brave now. I gave them what hard-tack I had, and +marched them ahead of me back to the rear, till we found headquarters. +Afterward, I was offered a furlough for capturing two of the enemy. I +never told this before; I took the credit. But I was not satisfied; I’d +rather have some of those chickens than live rebels. So back I went and I +got five; started back to the rear, put a kettle on a fire and boiled +them, kept them three days, till I found my brother and the remnant of the +regiment. When I did find them I made their hearts glad by showing them +the boiled chickens. They were awful hungry and set to eating with a +ravenous appetite, but they could not eat them, hungry as they were. I had +no salt, and so put a big chunk of salt beef in the pot instead of salt, +consequently the chickens were saltier then Lot’s wife.</p> + +<p>I think I felt more disappointed than anybody, so I determined to make up +for it in some other way. The regiment finally brought up in the first or +advance line of breastwork, and I was still skirmishing in the rear for +anything that I could find that was good.</p> + +<p>I had tramped back to the rear about three miles, my mind bent on securing +anything that would please the heart and eye, or tickle the palates of the +brave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> fellows who had gone to face the enemy and do the real work of our +country. About a quarter of a mile to the left of me I espied a covered +wagon moving toward the front. I wondered what it was and where it was +bound for, as from the frequent halt it made, it seemed the driver was +lost to himself. I bore down toward him and found it was a sanitary wagon, +loaded with good things sent out by the ladies of the north. The driver +was an old man—one of those long, lanky individuals who might be taken +for a parson or a horse dealer. He reminded me of the “Arkansaw Traveler.” +His clothes were of the salt and pepper homespun goods, a little worse for +wear and very ill fitting, they looked as if he had lost fifty pounds of +flesh since he started from home; his pants were tucked into a pair of old +cow-hide boots; his hat was a cross between a stove pipe and a derby; his +hair was red, very long and sprinkled with grey; his eyebrows were shaggy, +nearly meeting over the nose and hanging down over a pair of faded blue +eyes. So wrinkled was his skin that you would think his face was a frozen +laugh; a little strip of red hair ran down the side of his face in front +of his ears and almost met under his chin; the space left open in his +whiskers, evidently an outlet for the tobacco juice that trickled down +from each side of his mouth. As I approached he pulled up his mules and +called to me in a rather cracked voice, “Say, Major, or Sergeant, or what +ever you are, whar’s the field hospital?”</p> + +<p>“Three miles from here,” said I, pointing backward.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>“What’s that firin I hear? Ain’t no rebs ’round yere, be thar?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I replied; “there’s a long row of them about half a mile in front +of us, and you had better halt right where you are. What’s your cargo?”</p> + +<p>“Wall, I got most anything that is needed by you poor fellows—useful +things. I’m sent here by a society called the Northfield First Methodist +Ladies’ Relief and Sanitary Association. They selected me for my courage +to go to the front and distribute this load. But I guess I’ll have to go +too near that row of rebs if I’d give them out in person. I’ll unhitch +here and feed my mules. You don’t think thar’s any danger of them +grey-coats disturbing me, do you? I should hate to have all these good +things fall into their hands.”</p> + +<p>I inquired what he had, to which he replied with apparent amazement: +“Shirts, stockins, bakin’ powder, condensed milk, canned apples, peaches, +Boston beans, tobacco, hair oil, tooth powder, cathartic pills, Jamaiki +ginger, and fine tooth combs——Whoa thar—stop your infernal kickin. Them +durned mules are worse than two-year-old heifers.”</p> + +<p>The wearied animals had become all tangled up in the harness, and I +thought I’d steal some of the eatables for my company while he was freeing +and feeding the mules. He gave me a better opportunity however. There was +a patch of peanuts or groundnuts a short distance away. He asked me to +mind his mules while he went to see what they were and how they grew. When +he left me I got into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> wagon and loaded myself down with everything +until I could carry no more. Then I conceived an idea, and if he would +only remain away long enough I could carry the thing out. I found a small +hatchet in the wagon, and with my tin cup began digging a hole near the +wagon. I worked like a beaver for awhile, at the same time keeping my eye +on the peanut patch. The size of the receptacle would be determined by the +length of time the old man remained away. Finally I got a hole made about +the size of a bushel basket, and thought I’d take no more chances. I +scrambled into the wagon and threw out cans of milk, etc., until the hole +was completely filled. I had just nicely covered it up when my friend +returned and asked:</p> + +<p>“What <span class="smcaplc">YOU</span> been diggin’ for thar—them durned things too? Why, durn them, +I’d just as lieve eat raw beans.”</p> + +<p>I looked up in a guilty sort of way and told him, “I was digging for a +shell that lit there while he was gone.”</p> + +<p>“Ge-whiz! I guess I’d better get out of this place as quick as I can. I +say, Mister, whar’s your Comp’ny?”</p> + +<p>“What’s alive of them are at the front, suffering from want and hunger,” I +replied in a strong manner, thinking perhaps he would drive nearer and +distribute his load. But he was bent on going back. As he climbed to his +seat he said, “I’ll tell you, Mr. Sergeant, you kin take a few of these +things to the men that are sick in your company.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>“They are all sick,” I said quickly, for I was greedy and wanted all I +could get. He pulled out a hospital shirt and tied up the neck. Having +filled it with condensed milk, tobacco, and other things, he asked me if I +could carry it. “Could I! I could carry all there’s in your cart,” I +replied. I found my load was a little heavier than I had expected it to +be, but I wouldn’t say there was too much, but helped him to hitch up his +mules and he started off, after giving me a warm hand-shake. I watched him +until he disappeared from view, and then thought I would open up the +treasure I had buried and deposit some of the shirtful which he had so +kindly given me after I had robbed him. It would lighten the load and I +could return for the balance next day. I had just started to dig, when I +looked up and saw him driving back as hard as he could drive, “Say, young +fellow, I—I—I,” in a wild, excited manner, reigning his mules up with a +jerk and a “Whoa, thar,” loud enough to be heard in Petersburg, “I—I +thought I’d drive back and dig up that darned shell. It’ll be a great +curiosity. When I get home I can show the folks the dangerous position I +was placed in while distributing these things.”</p> + +<p>I didn’t stop to hear any more, but hurried away with my shirtful. I ran +hard and fast, and didn’t dare to turn and look round. The shells began to +whiz pretty thickly just at this time, and I prayed and hoped that the old +man would get scared and not dig for that shell, for I wanted the boys to +have it.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i062.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption"><i>The Great Mine Explosion in Front of Petersburg.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p>This was on the day fixed for the great mine explosion, every soldier on +the entire line was waiting with bated breath for the signal or prolonged +rumble of that expected explosion. It did not come, however. The suspense +was broken by the appearance nearly a half<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> a mile away, of a soldier with +something white on his back, that made a good target for the rebel +sharpshooters. Down the railroad I came. I reached the first line of +earthworks. For a short distance I would keep on top. In this way I kept +on, on, first running one breastwork then another, till I reached the +front line. On top of this I ran the whole length, heedless and unmindful +of the rebel bullets that pelted about me. I almost flew along. The +soldiers shouted to me to keep down, but I heeded them not. Finally I +reached the place where my regiment was, jumped down as coolly as if I had +run no risk, deposited my bag, received the congratulations of my company, +who examined me all over to see if there were any wounds. They found none, +however, but on opening the shirt every can of milk had a bullet hole +through it, and condensed milk, extract of beef, and tobacco had to be +eaten as a soufflee.</p> + +<p>The next day found me at the rear again. I looked for the buried +treasure—found it. Evidently the old gent had been frightened away, for +about half the dirt had been removed from the top, and the stuff was not +uncovered. There was a desperate fight going on at the right of our line. +I was pressed into the service of the stretcher corps, which is usually +composed of drummer boys. I did duty at this all the forenoon. The +onslaught was terrible, and many poor fellows did I help carry off that +field; some to live for an hour, others to lose a limb that would prove +their valor and courage for the balance of their lives.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/i064.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<p>This day our regiment was relieved from the front and supposing they were +going to City Point to recruit, they came back about a half a mile, halted +for orders; I heard of it and concluded I would go with them and so +hastened to where they were, and soon after my arrival the order came to +“fall in.” They did so with <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'a lacrity'">alacrity</ins> and bright hopes of much needed rest. +I took my drum and place at the head of the regiment and started with +them.</p> + +<p>The road to the left led to City Point. Imagine their surprise when +nearing it, the order came, “<span class="smcap">File right, by company into line, double +quick march.</span>”</p> + +<p>The entire regiment seemed paralyzed for a moment, but only for a moment, +the whizzing of the shells and the zip zip of the rebel bullets plainly +told them what caused the sudden change. I was dumbfounded, I didn’t know +what to do. My brother yelled to me to go to the rear quick, but I didn’t; +I kept on with them until it seemed to rain bullets, but on, on they went +unmindful of the awful storm of leaden messengers of death—on, on and +into one of the fiercest charges of the entire war. I saw men fall so +thick and fast that there didn’t seem as if there was any of my regiment +left, and I made up my mind it was too hot for me, so started on the dead +run to the rear for a place of safety, and I didn’t stop until I was +pretty sure I was out of harm’s way.</p> + +<p>I came to a place about one mile back where evidently there had been a +battery located; here I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> sat down to rest and meditate. I examined myself +all over to see if I was hit, found I was unhurt but my drum had received +several bullet holes in it.</p> + +<p>Finding a green spot I stretched myself out and listened to the awful +sound of musketry firing which was going on at the front, around me on all +sides was the debris of a deserted camp, empty tin cans, broken bayonets, +pieces of guns, fragments of bursted shell, and occasionally a whole one +that had failed to explode. I had only sat here a few moments thinking +which was the best way to go when I was joined by another Drummer Boy from +a Pennsylvania regiment. We sat down and talked over our exploits, and I +thought he was the most profane lad I had ever met. Most every other word +he uttered was an oath.</p> + +<p>I asked him if he wasn’t afraid to talk so.</p> + +<p>“What the h—l should I be afraid of?” he asked, at the same time picking +up an old tent stake and sticking it into the ground, trying to drive it +in with the heel of his boot. Failing in this he reached over and got hold +of an unexploded shell and used this on the stake, but it was heavy and +unwieldy.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if this was fired by those d—d rebs,” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I guess it was,” I replied, “and you better look out, or it might go +off.”</p> + +<p>“Off be d—d, their shells were never worth the powder to blow ’em to +h—l, see the hole in the butt of it, it would make a G—d—d good mawl, +wouldn’t it?” and looking round at the same time he found an old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> broom. +Stripping the brush and wire from the handle he said, “I’ll make a mawl of +it and drive that d—d rebel stake into the ground with one of their own +d—d shells, be d—d if I don’t.” Inserting the broom handle into the end +of the shell he walked over to a stump, and taking the shell in both hands +commenced pounding onto the stick against the stump; “d—d tight fit,” he +hollored to me, and the next instant I was knocked down by a terrific +explosion. I came to my senses in a minute and hastened to where he had +been standing. There the poor fellow lay unconscious and completely +covered with blood, there was hardly a shred of clothes on him, his hair +was all burned and both hands taken completely off, as if done by a +surgeon’s saw.</p> + +<p>I was excited and horror stricken for a moment. The sight was horrible, +but I quickly regained my composure, knowing that something must be done, +and done quickly. So taking the snares from my drum I wound them tightly +around his wrists to stop the flow of blood, then I hailed an ambulance, +and we took him to the held hospital about a mile to the rear.</p> + +<p>On the way the poor fellow regained consciousness, and looking at his +mutilated wrists, and then with a quick and bewildered glance at me, +“G—d—d tough, ain’t it,” then the tears started in his eyes, and he +broke down and sobbed the rest of the way, “Oh, my God! What will my poor +mother say? Oh, what will she do!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>We reached the field hospital, which is only a temporary place for the +wounded where the wounds are hurriedly dressed, and then they are sent to +regular hospitals, located in Baltimore, Philadelphia, Norfolk, +Portsmouth, etc., where they have all the comforts possible.</p> + +<p>We laid the little fellow down in one corner of the tent to wait his turn +with the surgeon, and when I left him, he cried and begged for me to stay, +but I couldn’t stand his suffering longer, so I bade him good-bye with +tears streaming down my own cheeks. I hurried out, and even after I +reached the outside I could hear him cry, “Oh, my God! What will my poor +mother say? Oh, what will she do!”</p> + +<p>In the afternoon I was detailed to wait on the amputating tables at the +field hospital.</p> + +<p>It was a horrible task at first. My duty was to hold the sponge or “cone” +of ether to the face of the soldier who was to be operated on, and to +stand there and see the surgeons cut and saw legs and arms as if they were +cutting up swine or sheep, was an ordeal I never wish to go through again. +At intervals, when the pile became large, I was obliged to take a load of +legs or arms and place them in a trench near by for burial. I could only +stand this one day, and after that I shirked all guard duty. The monotony, +the routine of life, in front of Petersburg, was becoming distasteful to +me. I had stolen everything I could. My district or territory had given +out, so the next day I started for the front to bid my brother good-bye.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>Our regiment was sometimes relieved and ordered to the rear for rest; so +it was on this occasion, they had fallen back and halted in a little +ravine. I met my brother, who always expected me to bring him some stolen +sweets or goodies of some kind, but unfortunately this time I came +empty-handed. I had failed to find anything to steal. I was hungry myself, +but when I looked at him I forgot my own hunger, for such a forlorn +appearance as he presented almost broke my heart, and I determined to find +him something to eat at all hazards. So off I started on an independent +foraging expedition. I had only gone a short distance when I espied a “pie +wagon.” Usually when the paymaster was around there would be “hucksters” +or peddlers with all kinds of commodities following in his wake. This +fellow had driven to the front from City Point. They were generally +dare-devils, and this one was no exception to the rule. He had driven +right up to the front, unhitched his horse and began selling hot mince +pies. He had some kind of a stove and outfit in an old covered wagon where +he made the pies quickly and sold them hot for one dollar apiece; the pies +were about the size of a saucer. When I reached the wagon there was quite +a crowd around him; some were buying and eating them as if they were good, +while others stood looking on wistfully watching their comrades who were +fortunate enough to have the price. I was one of the unfortunates. I could +smell the cooking of the pies long before I reached the wagon, and this +only served to increase my already ravenous hunger;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> but all I could do +was to stand there with my hands in my pockets, smack my lips and imagine +what they tasted like—the longer I staid the better they tasted. I +believe I would have given five hundred dollars for one if I had possessed +the money, but I didn’t have a cent; our regiment had not been paid. All +this time I was thinking of my poor brother, how he would like one of +those hot pies, and I began to concoct schemes how to get one. The way I +worked the old sanitary man would never do to try on this fellow, for he +was a “fakir” by birth, occupation and inclination. The fellow was doing a +lively business. “Here you are! Nice hot pies, fresh baked, right from the +oven! Walk up lively here. Only one dollar apiece! There’s only a few of +them left, and I shan’t be here again for a month; walk up with your +dollar! Get off that wheel, you young devil!” I had climbed up on the +wheel to make observations and see if I couldn’t sneak a pie, but he was +watching and detected my motive; so down I got and stood gaping at him, my +mouth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> wide open; but my hungry look had no effect on him, he had no +sympathy for anything except dollars. Finally I thought my brother might +have a dollar, so back to him I ran, told him of the pies, but he had not +a cent. The knowledge of the pies added two fold to his hunger. “Gosh!” he +said, “ain’t there some way? Can’t you steal one?” “No,” I said, “I have +tried that. I would have made his horse run away and upset his wagon, but +the darned cuss had unhitched him.”</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i069.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> + +<p>“Ge!” I exclaimed, “I have it.” And off I started. Charley, my brother, +owned an old-fashioned silver watch, one of those old “English levers.” He +thought a great deal of it as a keep-sake and always gave it to me to keep +when he was going into action. I had this watch now, and made up my mind I +would trade it to the “fakir” and get a lot of pies for us all. Oh! such +bright anticipations of hot mince pies. I could almost see them floating +in the air as big as cart wheels, and fearing they would all be sold +before I could reach the wagon, I ran as hard as I could. The crowd had +thinned out and so had the pies. “How many have you got left?” I eagerly +asked. “Oh, plenty,” he replied; “how many, do you want?” “Well,” I said, +nearly out of breath, “I haven’t any money, but I want all you have, and +I’ll trade you a nice watch for them.”</p> + +<p>“Say, cully! what yer givin’ me? I don’t want no watch. Let’s see it.”</p> + +<p>I quickly passed it up to him, and stood working my fingers and feet +impatiently and revolving in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> my mind how many pies he would give me and +how I would manage to carry them back, when he broke out into a loud, +contemptuous laugh, and passed the watch back.</p> + +<p>“Say, young fellow, that aint no good. I’d rather have a blacking box than +that thing.”</p> + +<p>“It’s silver,” I replied.</p> + +<p>“That don’t make no difference. I’ll give you one pie for the thing if you +want it, see!”</p> + +<p>I turned the watch over and over in my hand, my feelings hurt and my +stomach disappointed. Then I thought of my brother, forgot that it was his +high-priced time-piece, and quickly said:</p> + +<p>“Give me the pie and take the watch.”</p> + +<p>He did so, and away I started on the dead run, I could hardly resist the +temptation of biting the pie; but just before I reached the regiment, and +in full sight of my brother, I stumbled and fell, smashing the pie into +the dirt and mud. I picked myself up, looked at the crushed pie, and the +tears started in my eyes; but only for a moment. I brushed them away, +gathered up the pieces and hurried to my brother. We rubbed the mud from +the pieces the best we could, and devoured them with a hearty relish. +After the pie was gone, I regretted the bargain that I had made. Pie and +watch both gone. Remorse took possession of me. I felt guilty; I was +conscience-stricken. I was unsatisfied; no more time, no more pie.</p> + +<p>“Gosh, that pie was good, wasn’t it, ‘Pod’?” This was a nickname my +brother was pleased to call me by.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>“Jinks, I wish you had brought more. Why didn’t you try and get two?”</p> + +<p>“Well,” I said, faltering, “you—you see, I—I didn’t have time enough.”</p> + +<p>“Well, how did you get it, anyway?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! I got it on tick.” And then I walked over to a stump, thinking I +would get away from his questions and all the time revolving in my mind +whether I should tell him the truth, or say I had lost it. I felt ashamed +of myself and thought what a darned fool I was. I concluded I wasn’t a bit +smart—the idea of giving a watch for a pie! Finally, Charley came over to +me.</p> + +<p>“What time is it, Pod?”</p> + +<p>“I—I don’t know!”</p> + +<p>“Why, ain’t <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'the the'">the</ins> watch going?”</p> + +<p>“Yes-s. No, it’s gone.”</p> + +<p>“Gone! What do you mean?” And then divining the truth, he exclaimed: +“Gor-ram it, did you sell the watch for that pie?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Charley, I did, but I couldn’t help it; I knew you wanted the pie so +bad.”</p> + +<p>“Gor-rammed little fool; didn’t you know better than that?”</p> + +<p>Then I saw the great big tears come into his eyes, and I couldn’t stand +it. I patted him on the back and said: “Never mind, Charley. I’ll go and +get the watch back if I have to kill the pie man.” So off I started on the +dead run, caught the fellow just as he was ready to go. I asked him if I +could ride to the rear with him. He answered, “Yes, and you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> can show me +how to get into that turnip watch.” So I climbed on to the seat beside him +and we started. I took the watch apart, showed him how it was wound, set +and regulated it, and was about to hand it back to him, when a shell burst +a short way from us, which frightened his horse so that he cramped the +wagon and upset it, and in the confusion I got lost with the watch. On the +next day I gave it to my brother and told him how I had obtained it. He +laughed at me, and said he “guess I’d better keep it myself,” and so put +it in his pocket. That night the regiment went into action, and my brother +was slightly wounded several times. One shot would have proved fatal, but +the watch received the bullet and the wound proved fatal only to the +watch; it was smashed all to pieces. But my brother prizes the pieces now +more than he ever did the whole watch.</p> + +<p>The next day my regiment was ordered to the front again. I made up my mind +I would not go with them. I concluded I needed rest in order to +recuperate, so when the regiment started I bade my brother good-bye, gave +him a parting kiss and God’s blessings, so off I started.</p> + +<p>About a half a mile from my regiment I came to one of those Virginia +fences, got up on top of it, and sat thinking, and while sitting there the +shells began to fly pretty thick. I thought I had better be moving, jumped +down, and as I did so a shell struck one of the rails of the fence. A +piece of the rail struck me and was harder than I was, for when I came to +my senses I found I was in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> hospital. I didn’t think I was hurt very +badly, but when I tried to get up, found I couldn’t. From there they moved +me to “Balfour Hospital” at Portsmouth, Virginia. I never will forget the +shame and mortification I felt at the sight I must have presented when the +boat that conveyed us to Portsmouth arrived.</p> + +<p>An old negro came to my bunk and took me on his back, and with a boot in +each hand dangling over his shoulder he carried me pickaback through the +streets to the hospital, a large, fine building, formerly the “Balfour +Hotel,” and converted into a hospital after Portsmouth was captured. They +took me up stairs into what was formerly the dining-room but now filled +with over two hundred little iron beds, and each bed occupied by a wounded +soldier. Everything in and about the place was as neat as wax. They +carried me to a vacant bed near the center of the room, and I noticed the +next bed to mine had several tin dishes hanging over it, suspended from +the ceiling. These were filled with water, and from a small hole punctured +in the bottom the water would slowly but constantly drip upon some poor +fellow’s wound to keep it moist. I had just sat down on the side of my +bed, when I was startled by the sound of a familiar voice. “Hello, cully! +What you been doin’, playing with one of those d—d shells, too?”</p> + +<p>No, I replied, the shells were playing with me. Then I recognized the +occupant of the next bed as my drummer boy acquaintance who had his hands +blown off a week ago. What a strange thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> that we should be brought +together side by side again, both wounded with a shell and nearly on the +same spot.</p> + +<p>He had changed wonderfully; his little white pinched face told too plainly +the suffering he had endured. I asked him how he was getting along.</p> + +<p>“Oh I’m getting along pretty d—d fast. I guess I’ll croak in a few days.”</p> + +<p>“Oh you musn’t talk that way, you’ll be all right in a little while.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, cully, I know better. I’m a goner; I know it. I don’t want to +live, anyhow. What in h—l is the good of a man without hands?” Then +turning his bandaged head towards me, his eyes filling with tears. “I aint +afraid to die, cul., but I would like to see my old mother first. Do you +think I will?”</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, I said, no doubt of it; at the same time I felt that his days +were numbered, but I wanted to make him feel as comfortable as possible. +He was so much worse off than I, that I forgot my own injuries and was +eager to assist him all I could. After a few minutes silence—</p> + +<p>“Say, cully, reach under my pillow and find a little book there; it’s a +little Testament that my dear old mother gave me; read a little for me, +will you please? You’ll find a place mother marked for me, read that, +please.”</p> + +<p>I turned the leaves over till I found a little white ribbon pinned to a +leaf, marking the verse beginning, “Suffer little children to come unto +me.” I started to read for him, but the tears filled my eyes. I had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> to +stop, and as I did so, I noticed he seemed very quiet. I glanced at him, +and the open, staring eyes and the rigid drawn features told me too +plainly that the little fellow was out of his sufferings:—he was dead!</p> + +<p> +“Mother” was the countersign on his lips so thin,<br /> +And the sentry in heaven <i>must</i> let him in.<br /> +</p> + +<p>I remained here three weeks, finally got up and around and began to think +I had enough of soldier life. I had everything I wished for; some ladies +in the town—God bless them, I never will forget them—visited the +hospital occasionally, and they always took pains to bring me flowers or +goodies of some kind. (Pardon me, but somehow I was always a favorite with +ladies.) Well, after remaining there three or four weeks I concluded I +didn’t want to go to the front, so I sat down and wrote a personal letter +to Secretary Stanton, told him who, how, and what I was, and asked him to +advise me what to do; if I should go to the front or home. Soon after, a +special order came back from him to have me transferred to the “2nd +Battalion Veteran Reserve Corps.”</p> + +<p>Let me here state to those who do not understand; all soldiers who were +sick or wounded, unfit for field service were transferred to the Veteran +Reserve Corps, for the purpose of doing light guard duty in camp, or at +headquarters; they were divided into two battalions, 1st and 2nd. The 1st +battalion was supposed to be able to carry a musket for duty, while the +2nd battalion was composed of one-armed men or totally disabled soldiers, +and were supplied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> with a small sword; and thus I was condemned by special +order; however I liked it. I had an easy time, nothing to do, and others +to help me.</p> + +<p>I continued here for about two months, until the hospital was ordered to +be removed to Old Point Comfort. I had become a great favorite of +Lieutenant Russell, the officer in charge of the hospital, and a nice man +he was. When the order came to move, the fixtures, furniture, in fact +everything in and about the building was ordered to be sold. I was +detailed by Lieutenant Russell to remain behind and superintend the sale +of the stuff, keep accounts, make a report when all was sold, and turn +over the proceeds. That detained me there two weeks longer. I sold the +beds, dishes, tables, everything. There remained about thirty tons of coal +in the yard to be disposed of. I sold it in any quantity to poor people; +took any price for it I could get, the same as everything else. Finally, +everything was sold off, and I was ready to depart the next day for Old +Point Comfort. In the evening, the two men I had with me and myself, used +to get our pipes and sit in front of the office and smoke. We were sitting +there talking about the sale, when it occurred to me that I had overlooked +the “deadhouse.” We went back to it and found seven coffins. What was to +be done; they must be sold, as they must be accounted for, and we were +going to depart early in the morning. The street was crowded at that time +in the evening, so I took the coffins and stood them up on the sidewalk, +and everyone that passed by, I would ask him if he wanted to buy a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +coffin. Finally, I struck a man who offered me seven dollars for the lot, +and I took it quick. I learned afterward he was an undertaker.</p> + +<p>The next day I landed and reported to headquarters at Fortress Monroe. A +day or two after, Lieutenant Russell sent for me; he wanted a foreman in +the Government Printing Office. I was down for occupation on the pay-roll +as a printer. He asked me if I understood the business. I said yes, I had +some knowledge of it, so I was detailed with an extra eight dollars per +month. I took charge of the office at once. The first day I had orders to +print fifty thousand official envelopes. The press-boy brought me the +proof, I looked it over, and marked it correct; they were printed and sent +to headquarters.</p> + +<p>A few days after Lieutenant Russell sent for me to report at his office. I +didn’t know what was up. Thought perhaps I was going to be sent to +Washington to take charge of the Government Printing Office there. As I +went in, the lieutenant turned to me with a quizzical smile on his face:</p> + +<p>“Young man, you told me you were a printer?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Did you ‘O. K.’ this job?” passing one of the envelopes he held in his +hand.</p> + +<p>“Yes sir,” I answered.</p> + +<p>“Umph! Is it correct?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“It is, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Yes-s, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Umph! how do you spell business?”</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i079.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption"><i>Fortress Monroe where Jefferson Davis was Incarcerated.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>“B-u-i-s-n-e-ss,” said I.</p> + +<p>“You do, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said he in an imperative manner, “our government sees fit to +differ with you. You will go to your office and print fifty thousand more, +but see that you spell business right, and bring me the proof. The lot you +have printed we will send to Washington, and recommend that they be made +into a paper mache statue of yourself, and label it ‘Buisness’ or the only +government printer.”</p> + +<p>I was a little chagrined at the mistake, but did not take it to heart; but +I was soon relieved by a man who was more careful in his spelling. A week +or so after leaving the printing office, I was sent to the fort to act as +a kind of a companion to the confederate president, Jefferson Davis. I was +instructed to walk and talk with him. I presume I was intended for a sort +of guard. Perhaps our government wished to make him feel as if he were not +under surveillance, and so placed one whose insignificant appearance would +put him at his ease. However, I found it a very agreeable occupation. One +of the most pleasant weeks I ever passed was with Mr. Jefferson Davis. He +was a most agreeable man to me. He gave me lots of good advice, and I +learned more from conversation with him about national affairs than I ever +expected to know; and if I ever become president I will avail myself of +the advice and teaching of that great man. He pointed out the right and +wrong paths for young men; urged me above all things to adhere<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> strictly +to honesty and integrity; to follow these two principles, and I would +succeed in business and become great and respected. I thanked him for his +kind advice, and pressed his hand good-bye. “Good-bye, my boy,” said he. +“You have been a comfort to me in my loneliness and sorrow. God bless you, +my boy, God bless you!” A great, big something came up in my throat as I +turned and left him, and I have regretted all my life that I was not +fortunate enough to have the pleasure of meeting him again before he +passed away; for I assure you, indulgent readers and comrades, that no +matter what he had done, or what mistakes he had made, his memory will +always find a warm spot in the heart of that little Drummer Boy from +Maine.</p> + +<p>One day, soon after this I sauntered down to the steamboat landing and was +leisurly beguiling my time with a very large cigar. I noticed some +<ins class="correction" title="original reads 'comotion'">commotion</ins> in the harbor but paid more attention to the cigar than anything +else. Finally a large ocean steamer came in sight, rounded up near the +wharf and let go her anchor. Very soon a “cutter” was lowered manned with +sailors and pulled with steady stroke toward the wharf. While watching and +wondering what they were going to do with the soldiers which I saw the +vessel was loaded with, the “gig” or “cutter” neared the wharf, then I +noticed particularly the young officer who sat in the stern, he was very +dictatorial and pompous in his orders to the sailors, so much so that I +said to myself,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> that fellow is putting on lots of airs; he thinks he’s +some pumpkins, I wish he’d fall overboard.</p> + +<p>They finally reached the foot of the stairs, which led to the wharf. The +young officer espied me and standing up in the boat shading his eyes with +his hand seemed carefully contemplating me. I wondered if it could be +possible that he had defined my wish and would have me arrested when he +landed; perhaps it was the cigar that attracted his attention. It was +against orders to smoke on the wharf, and such a big cigar in a boy’s +mouth looked very much out of place, but I wasn’t going to give it up, and +puffed more vigorously than ever. Just then the “cutter” touched the +stairs that led up to the wharf with a bump, and the young officer with +his handsome uniform turned a back-summersault overboard. It tickled me to +death; I sat down and laughed to see him floundering to reach the stairs. +I clapped my hands and cried, “Good, good!” He finally reached the stairs, +clambered up onto them, but they being very slippery from the slime left +by the ebbing tide, he lost his footing, his heels went into the air, and +down again headfirst he went into the ocean. I think he went clear to the +bottom, for when he came up he was covered over with sea grass and mud. I +laughed harder than before; everybody laughed, even the sailors, they +couldn’t help it, and when they fished him out he was a sight! The starch +was out of his clothes, but not his pomposity. He roundly blamed the poor +sailors. I sang out: “It wasn’t their fault; what are you blaming them +for?” He looked at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> me and shook his <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'first'">fist</ins>. “Well, it wasn’t!” and I +thought to myself if I were they I would push him in again. I then made up +my mind I had better run, but I was so convulsed with laughter that I +couldn’t move. <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'Huriedly'">Hurriedly</ins> but cautiously climbing the slippery stairs, he +made his way straight for me. I was still laughing, so hearty that my eyes +were dimmed with tears! but I still puffed away at the big cigar. He +looked at me for a moment, then hitting the cigar knocked it overboard, at +the same time exclaiming, “You’re too young to smoke. What you laughing +at? Why don’t you salute me? Discipline! I’ll teach you discipline, +confound you,” at the same time boxing my ears. “You ‘gorramed’ little +cuss, why don’t you salute me?” At the word “Gorrame” I recovered myself, +looked up and recognized my brother; he had been promoted since I saw him, +had raised a full beard and was in command of a regiment on his way to New +Orleans and had run into Fortress Monroe for orders and hoping to find me. +I was more than pleased to see him, but wouldn’t salute him <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'untill'">until</ins> he had +soundly cuffed my ears and threatened to throw me into the water.</p> + +<p>When he was ready to depart he gave me a cigar and told me I could smoke +it after he had gone, but I didn’t; just as he was getting into the +“cutter,” I gave it to the Boatswain. I don’t know, but I believe that +cigar was loaded.</p> + +<p>Soon after this episode, peace was declared, and the orders came to +discharge all soldiers and send them to their respective homes, and on the +30th day <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>of June, 1865, the boy who had worked so hard to get mustered +into the service of Uncle Sam was discharged and mustered out. Then I went +home to my dear, anxious family. I was not all covered with glory and I +did not feel that I had saved my country, but was satisfied that I had not +killed anyone; satisfied that I had furnished some little comfort and good +cheer to my comrades during their hardships, and above all that I had +learned the glorious distinction of being entitled to wear one of those +little bronze buttons made from captured cannons and symbolic of the +G. A. R.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i085tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> +<a href="images/i085.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> +<p class="note">Fac-simile of a descriptive list belonging to Mr. Ulmer. +The original is six times larger and was plowed up with other documents by +an old negro on the battle field <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'n'">in</ins> front of Petersburg, twelve years +after the war. While Mr. Ulmer was playing an engagement at the theatre in +Norfolk, the negro presented himself with the document all in pieces. Mr. +Ulmer gave him $100 as a reward, had the pieces put together on parchment +and it is now in a good state of preservation. The document is certainly a +great relic; some portions of it are almost obliterated by mildew and +exposure. The supposition is that the officer who had it in his possession +was killed and the papers buried with him.</p> +<p> </p> + +<p>Having spoken so often of my brother, some one may ask and wonder what +became of him.</p> + +<p>During the war our soldiers would often receive little useful articles, +such as stockings, shirts, etc., made by the ladies who formed themselves +into societies all over the country and furnished these things for +distribution among the soldiers at the front. The young ladies had a great +craze at that time of marking their names or initials upon whatever they +made. One day my brother received a pair of hand-knit stockings with a +little tag sewed on each of them, and written on the tags the letters +L. A. D., Islesboro, Maine. They were so acceptable at the time that he +declared that if he lived to get out of the army, he would be “gorramed” +if he didn’t find the girl that built those stockings, and kiss her for +them. He began writing to Islesboro, making inquiries, and received +several letters signed “Tab.” He was determined not to give it up, +however, and when mustered out, the first thing he did, was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> to go to +Islesboro, Maine, to find “Tab.” He found her, she was a schoolma’m, and +soon after married her, and they are now living way out in Port Angeles in +the State of Washington happy as bugs in a rug, and every meal time you +can find several little “Tabs” around the table, some large enough to tell +the story of how Pa found Ma, and a great desire to try the same thing +themselves.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The unhappy war was over. The soldier boy returned. I arrived home at the +little farm, found a royal, loving welcome from my father and brothers, +and more than any other, my little step-sister, who never got tired of +stories of my experience. She would sit for hours, begging me to tell her +more. She was always with me wherever I would go. She was full of +admiration for me. I was a hero in her eyes; I could not dispel her fancy, +and I didn’t try, for she seemed the sunshine of my life. She plodded with +me through all my ups and downs; through the snow and ice of winter, +making summer for me the year round, and she is now my little wife.</p> + +<p>I must stop here, or I may go too far into a history of my life, which I +did not intend. I know it would be uninteresting, but will simply add that +myself and wife adopted the stage as a profession, and still follow it. I +have just completed a play entitled, “The Volunteer” which I shall soon +submit for public approval.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>My recollections are finished—for they are but recollections of a time +that “tried men’s souls.” In looking back o’er the path of life there is a +melancholy pleasure, to me, at least, in contemplating the shattered +shards of many an air built castle,—inhaling the perfumes of flowers long +since faded and dead. If these reflections have served to beguile one +moment of “ennui” for an idle reader—if they have recalled one incident +of “derring doe” to a whilesome comrade, I am satisfied that my purpose is +accomplished.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i089.jpg" alt="" /></div> + + +<p> </p><p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="adverts"> +<p><big><b><span class="smcap">Cactus Cream</span></b></big><span class="spacer"> </span><img src="images/i090.jpg" alt="" /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/i090b.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<p>The Most Elegant and Delicate Preparation</p> + +<p><img src="images/i090a.jpg" alt="" /><big><span class="smcap">For the Skin</span></big></p> + +<p>EVER DISCOVERED.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="removes"> +<tr><td> </td><td rowspan="5"><span class="bracket2">{</span></td><td>FRECKLES,</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td>BLACKHEADS,</td></tr> +<tr><td><b>IT POSITIVELY REMOVES:</b></td><td>PIMPLES,</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td>MORPHEW,</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td>TAN,</td></tr></table> + +<p>And all Blemishes of Cuticle.</p> + +<p>— — <big><b>CACTUS CREAM</b></big> Is used all over the world in preference to any other +preparation for the complexion. A beautiful effect is discernible after +the first application, and its continued use only increases the beauty of +the skin until an exquisite complexion is obtained.</p> + +<p class="center">For Creating, Restoring, Preserving and Insuring Beauty,</p> + +<p>Nothing has ever been found one-half so effective and satisfactory as +<b>Cactus Cream</b>. By its use the roughest skin is made to rival the pure +radiant texture of <b>Youthful Beauty</b>. <b>Redness</b>, <b>Pimples</b> and <b>Blotches</b> are +quickly overcome by the healing and cooling properties of <b>Cactus Cream</b>, +and a satin-like smoothness of the skin of great beauty is soon acquired.</p> + +<p><b>Sunburn</b>, <b>Freckles</b> and <b>Tan</b> removed by faithfully applying <b>Cactus Cream</b>.</p> + +<p>Applied to the <b>Neck</b>, <b>Arms</b> and <b>Hands</b>, it gives an appearance of <b>Graceful +Rotundity</b>, as well as <b>Pearly Blooming Purity</b>.</p> + +<p><b>Cactus Cream</b> eradicates everything that mars the beauty of the complexion +and adds the tint of the lily. Gentlemen find it cool and refreshing when +used after shaving. <b>All Barbers use it.</b></p> + +<p class="center">FOR SALE BY DRUGGISTS, HAIR DRESSERS, Etc.,<br /> +25 CENTS PER BOTTLE,<br /> +<br /> +Prepaid by Mail to any Address.<br /> +<br /> +CHILES & CO.,<br /> +SOLE MANUFACTURERS AND PROPRIETORS.<br /> +CHICAGO.<br /> +718 CHAMBER OF COMMERCE.</p></div> + +<p> </p><p> </p><p> </p> +<div class="adverts"> +<h4>· · ·WE COMMEND · · ·</h4> +<h1><span class="smcap">Ricksecker’s</span><br /> +PERFUMES.</h1> +<p> </p> +<h3>THE BEST MADE.</h3> +<p> </p> +<h3>“MARTHA WASHINGTON”</h3> +<h3>“FLORAL CHIMES”</h3> +<h3>“GOLDEN GATE”</h3> +<h3>“FLORIDA BREEZE”</h3> +<h3>“DAMASK ROSE”</h3> +<h3>“EDGEWOOD VIOLETS”</h3> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i091.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> +<h5>ALL DRUGGISTS KEEP THESE PERFUMES, ASK FOR<br /> +THEM AND TAKE NO OTHER.</h5></div> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p><p> </p> +<div class="adverts"> +<h2>Read This Carefully.</h2> +<p class="center">When you arrive in Chicago, stop at the best hotel in the world, the</p> +<h1>“SHERMAN HOUSE”</h1> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i092.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<h3>EVERY ROOM SPACIOUS AND ELEGANTLY FURNISHED!</h3> +<h3>THE CUSINE IS UNEXCELLED!</h3> +<p class="center"><i>Agreeable courteous clerks, attentive waiters, and meals served +without spoiling. In fact a hotel you <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'fe l'">feel</ins> at home in.</i></p> +<p class="center">RATES: $3.00, $3.50, $4.00, $4.50 and $5.00.</p> + +<h4>SPECIAL RATES TO THE THEATRICAL PROFESSION.</h4> +<h4><span class="smcap">Central Location: Cor. Clark and Randolph Streets.</span></h4> + +<h3>J. IRVING PEARCE, <span class="smcap">Proprietor</span>.</h3></div> + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><b>Transcriber’s Notes:</b></p> + +<p>Other than the corrections noted by hover information, printer’s +inconsistencies in spelling, hyphenation, and apostrophe usage have been retained.</p> + +<p>Spelling/printing errors were corrected only if the same word was used correctly elsewhere in the text.</p> + +<p>Unpaired quotation marks have been silently matched.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Adventures and Reminiscences of a +Volunteer, by George T. Ulmer + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADVENTURES OF A VOLUNTEER *** + +***** This file should be named 32246-h.htm or 32246-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/2/4/32246/ + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/32246-h/images/001sig.png b/32246-h/images/001sig.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a2d1b48 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/001sig.png diff --git a/32246-h/images/i001.jpg b/32246-h/images/i001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e4df49a --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i001.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i007.jpg b/32246-h/images/i007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3dab734 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i007.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i009.jpg b/32246-h/images/i009.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b8deb22 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i009.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i017.jpg b/32246-h/images/i017.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ecbc4c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i017.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i025.jpg b/32246-h/images/i025.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7dc93c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i025.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i029.jpg b/32246-h/images/i029.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..06897c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i029.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i035.jpg b/32246-h/images/i035.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8d8d26a --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i035.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i047.jpg b/32246-h/images/i047.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3500c4f --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i047.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i051.jpg b/32246-h/images/i051.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f959f2e --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i051.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i062.jpg b/32246-h/images/i062.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3816bd1 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i062.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i064.jpg b/32246-h/images/i064.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c4f6b0 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i064.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i069.jpg b/32246-h/images/i069.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2a47920 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i069.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i079.jpg b/32246-h/images/i079.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..28b2d51 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i079.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i085.jpg b/32246-h/images/i085.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c3391a0 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i085.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i085tmb.jpg b/32246-h/images/i085tmb.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..96fbed2 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i085tmb.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i089.jpg b/32246-h/images/i089.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d11450d --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i089.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i090.jpg b/32246-h/images/i090.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d6ebe57 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i090.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i090a.jpg b/32246-h/images/i090a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e169d9e --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i090a.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i090b.jpg b/32246-h/images/i090b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4f44da1 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i090b.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i091.jpg b/32246-h/images/i091.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1996157 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i091.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/i092.jpg b/32246-h/images/i092.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3765c52 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/i092.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/ifcover.jpg b/32246-h/images/ifcover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9edbb05 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/ifcover.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/ifcovertmb.jpg b/32246-h/images/ifcovertmb.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7b3c679 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/ifcovertmb.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/ircover.jpg b/32246-h/images/ircover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..926a880 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/ircover.jpg diff --git a/32246-h/images/ircovertmb.jpg b/32246-h/images/ircovertmb.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b0d77c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246-h/images/ircovertmb.jpg diff --git a/32246.txt b/32246.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a395e5b --- /dev/null +++ b/32246.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2368 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Adventures and Reminiscences of a Volunteer, by +George T. Ulmer + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Adventures and Reminiscences of a Volunteer + A Drummer Boy from Maine + +Author: George T. Ulmer + +Release Date: May 4, 2010 [EBook #32246] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADVENTURES OF A VOLUNTEER *** + + + + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Resp'ct Yours + +Geo. T. Ulmer + +Feb. 1892] + + + + + Adventures and Reminiscences + of a + Volunteer, + + or + A Drummer Boy from Maine + + + BY + GEO. T. ULMER, + COMPANY H, 8TH MAINE VOLUNTEERS. + + + Dedicated to the Grand Army Republic. + + + + Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1892, + by GEO. T. ULMER, in the office of the Librarian + of Congress, at Washington D. C. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +In submitting this little book the author does not attempt to edit a +history of the rebellion, nor does he assume to be correct in the date of +events to a day. He does not hope or expect to make a hero of himself by +writing it, for he was far from doing anything heroic, believing, as he +does, that most of the heroes of the war were killed. Perhaps the WRITING +of this book may stamp him a hero, and for his audacity in so doing some +one may kill him. But he intends to clothe his little work in homely, +rugged, commonplace language. Not striving to make it a work of literary +merit, only a truthful account of an unimportant career and experience in +the army. It may, perhaps, be interesting to some of his comrades, who +recollect the incidents or recall similar events that happened to +themselves, and thereby serve the purpose of introducing one of the +youngest soldiers and a comrade of that greatest and most noble of all +organizations, the Grand Army of the Republic. + +Respectfully, + +GEORGE T. ULMER. + + + + +[Illustration: _The Memorable Bombardment of Fort Sumter._] + + + + +Bombardment of Fort Sumter. This was the beginning and the first sound of +actual war which inspired me, and kindled the fire of patriotism in my +youthful breast. The little spark lay smoldering for two long years, 'till +at last it burst forth into a full blaze. When Fort Sumter was bombarded, +I was a midget of a boy; a barefooted, ragged newsboy in the city of New +York. The bombardment was threatened for several weeks before it actually +occurred; and many nights I would have been bankrupted, but that everyone +was on the "qui vive" for the event, and I got myself into lots of trouble +by shouting occasionally, "Fort Sumter Bombarded!" I needed money; it sold +my papers, and I forgave myself. When the authentic news did come, I think +it stirred up within me as big a piece of fighting desire as it did in +larger and older people. I mourned the fact that I was then too small to +fight, but lived in hopes that the war would last until I should grow. If +I could have gone south, I felt that I could have conquered the rebellious +faction alone, so confident was I of my fighting abilities. + +In the fall of '61 my dear mother died, and my father who had a great +desire to make possibilities out of improbabilities, and believing a farm +the proper place to bring up a family of boys, bought one away in the +interior of Maine. The farm was very hilly, covered with huge pines and +liberally planted with granite ledges. I used to think God wanted to be +generous to this state and gave it so much land it had to be stood up +edgeways. Picture to yourself, dear reader, four boys taken from the busy +life of a great city, place them in the wilderness of Maine, where they +had to make a winrow of the forest to secure a garden spot for the house, +pry out the stumps and blast the ledges to sow the seed, then ask yourself +what should the harvest be? + +Father's business required all of his time in New York City, and we were +left with two hired men to develop the farm, our brains and muscles, but +mine didn't seem to develop worth a cent. I didn't care for the farmer's +life. The plow and scythe had no charms for me. My horny, hardened little +hand itched and longed to beat the drums that would marshall men to arms. + +After eight months of hard work we had cleared up quite a respectable +little farm, an oasis in that forest of pines. A new house and barn had +been built, also new fences and stone walls, but not much credit for this +belonged to me. Soon after, we received a letter from father stating that +he would be with us in a short time and bring us a new mother and a little +step-sister. This was joyous news, the anticipation of a new mother, and +above all a step-sister, inspired us with new ambition. The fences and +barn received a coat of whitewash, the stones were picked out of the road +in front of the house, the wood-pile was repiled and everything put into +apple-pie order. We did not know what day they would arrive. So each day +about the time the stage coach from Belfast should pass the corners, we +would perch ourselves on the fence in front of the house to watch for it, +and when it did come in sight, wonder if the folks were in it; if they +were, it would turn at the corners and come toward our house. Day after +day passed, and they did not come, and we had kind of forgotten about it. +Finally one day while we were all busy burning brush, brother Charlie came +rushing towards us shouting, "The stage coach is coming! The stage is +coming!" Well, such a scampering for the house! We didn't have time to +wash or fix up, and our appearance would certainly not inspire our city +visitors with much paternal pride or affection; we looked like charcoal +burners. Our faces, hands and clothes were black and begrimed from the +burning brush, but we couldn't help it; we were obliged to receive and +welcome them as we were. I pulled up a handful of grass and tried to wipe +my face, but the grass being wet, it left streaks all over it, and I +looked more like a bogie man than anything else. We all struggled to brush +up and smooth our hair, but it was no use, the stage coach was upon us, +the door opened, father jumped out, and as we crowded around him, he +looked at us in perfect amazement and with a kind of humiliated +expression behind a pleasant fatherly smile he exclaimed, "Well, well, you +are a nice dirty looking lot of boys. Lizzie," addressing his wife and +helping her to alight, "This is our family, a little smoky; I can't tell +which is which, so we'll have to wait till they get their faces washed to +introduce them by their names." But our new mother was equal to the +occasion for coming to each of us, and taking our dirty faces in her +hands, kissed us, saying at the same time, "Philip, don't you mind, they +are all nice, honest, hard-working boys, and I know I shall like them, +even if this country air has turned their skins black." At this moment a +tiny voice called, "Please help me out." All the boys started with a rush, +each eager to embrace the little step-sister. I was there first, and in an +instant, in spite of my dirty appearance, she sprang from the coach right +into my arms; my brothers struggled to take her from me, but she tightened +her little arms about my neck and clung to me as if I was her only +protector. I started and ran with her, my brothers in full chase, down the +road, over the stone walls, across the field, around the stumps with my +prize, the brothers keeping up the chase till we were all completely tired +out, and father compelled us to stop and bring the child to the house. +Afterward we took our turns at caressing and admiring her; finally we +apologized for our behavior and dirty faces, listened to father's and +mother's congratulations, concluded father's choice for a wife was a good +one, and that our little step-sister was just exactly as we wanted her to +be, and the prospect of a bright, new and happy home seemed to be already +realized. + + A home is all right + With father and brother, + But darker than night + Without sister and mother. + + * * * * * + +The war grew more and more serious. Newspapers were eagerly sought; and +every word about the struggle was read over and over again. A new call for +troops was made, another and still another, and I was all the time +fretting and chafing in the corn or potato field, because I was so young +and small. I could not work; the fire of patriotism was burning me up. My +eldest brother had arrived at the age and required size to fit him for the +service; he enlisted and went to the front. This added new fuel to the +flame already within me, and one day I threw down the hoe and declared +that I would go to the war! I would join my brother at all hazards. My +folks laughed at me and tried to dissuade me from so unwise a step, but my +mind was made up, and I was bound to enlist. Enlist I did, when I was only +fourteen years of age and extremely small for my years, but I thought I +would answer for a drummer boy if nothing else. I found that up hill work, +however, but I was bound to "get there," and--I did. + +It was easy enough to enlist, but to get mustered into the service was a +different thing. I tried for eight long weeks. I enlisted in my own town, +but was rejected. I enlisted in an adjoining town--rejected, and so on +for weeks and weeks. But I did not give up. I owned at the time a little +old gray horse and a two-wheeled jumper or "gig," which I had bought with +my savings from the sale of "hoop poles," which are small birch and alder +trees that grow in the swamps, and used for hoops on lime casks; at this +time they were worth a half a cent a piece delivered. I would work cutting +these poles at times when I could do nothing else, pack them on my back to +the road, pile them up, till I had a quantity to sell. At length I +concluded I had enough to buy me a horse and cart; the pile seemed as big +as a house to me, but when the man came along to buy them, he counted out +six thousand good ones and rejected nine thousand that were bad. "Too +small!" he said. + +"Too small?" I exclaimed, "why there is hardly any difference in them!" +But he was buying, I was selling, and under the influence of a boy's +anxiety, he paid me thirty dollars, which I counted over and over again, +and at every count the dollars seemed to murmer, "A horse, a horse!--war! +war! to the front! be a soldier!" I could picture nothing but a soldier's +life; I could almost hear the sounds of the drums, and almost see the long +rows of blue-coated soldiers marching in glorious array with steady step +to the music of the band. "Thirty! thirty!" I would repeat to myself, but +finally concluded thirty wouldn't buy much of a horse, but my heart was +set upon it, and nothing remained for me to do but cut more "poles." One +day when I arrived at the road with a bundle of them, a farmer happened +to be passing, driving a yoke of oxen as I tumbled my hoop-poles over the +fence on to the pile. + +"Heow be yer?" Addressing me in a high, nasal twang peculiar to the +yeomanry of Maine, and then calling to his oxen without a change of tone, +he drawled, "Whoa! back! Whoa you, Turk! Whoa, Bright!" at the same time +hitting the oxen over their noses with his goad-stick, and resting on the +yoke, he asked, "What yer goin' ter dew with them poles?" + +"Sell them," I replied. + +"What dew yer want for 'em?" taking in the height and width of the pile +with a calculating eye. + +"Fifty cents a hundred," I said, with some trepidation. + +"Don't want nothin', dew yer," coming over and picking out the smallest +pole in the pile; "Pooty durned small, been't they? What'll yer take fur +the hull lot?" + +"Twenty dollars," I said. + +"Twenty dollars! Whew!" Emitting a whistle that would have done credit to +a locomotive exhausting steam. "Why, thar been't more'n a thousan' thar, +be thar?" + +"Oh yes, I guess there are over four thousand." + +"Say!" sticking his hands in either breeches pocket and taking me in from +head to foot with a comprehensive glance, "What might yer name be?" + +"Ulmer," I said. + +"No? You been't Phil's son, be yer?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Yer don't tell me! Wall, by gosh! I like Phil, he's a durned smart 'un. +I'll tell yer what, I'd like ter see him and Jimmie Blaine a settin' up in +them gol-durn presidential cheers; why, by gosh, they'd jist open the hull +durned treasury bildin' an let all ther gor-ramed gold an' silver role +right out inter the streets, by gosh, they would." Having delivered +himself of this panegyric, together with an accumulated quantity of saliva +resulting from the constant mastication of a large tobacco quid, he again +turned his attention to the pile of poles and said, "How much did yer say +fur the lot?" + +"Twenty dollars." + +"Twenty!" Drawing the corners of his mouth down and stroking his chin, +then turning to me, "Wall, more I look at yer, by gosh, yer do look like +Phil. Wall, I'd like purty well ter have them poles, but--," as if a +sudden idea had struck him,--"Don't want ter trade fur a horse, dew yer?" + +"What kind of a horse?" + +"Wall, a pooty durned good 'un. I hain't druve him much lately, but he +yused ter go like smoke; he's a leetle old but, will prick up his ears +like a colt when he's a mind ter." + +"Well, I do want a horse, if I can trade for one," I said, trying not to +show anxiety. + +"Say, got time ter get on' ter the waggin an go over to my farm and see +him, take dinner with me? Guess, the old woman'll have enough for both." + +Being anxious, I accepted the invitation, and was soon on the way. He +pestered me with all kinds of questions; asked all about my family affairs +and told me all of his and every other family for miles about. Finally we +reached his house, one of those old-fashioned farm houses with several old +tumble-down sheds and out-buildings attached, near by an old barn that was +once painted red, the shingles had rotted and blown off here and there, so +you could see daylight from any portion inside. Scattered about were old +wagon boxes, odd wheels, old toothless harrows, plows, a wheelbarrow +upside down with the wheel gone, part of an old harness lying across it; +bits of harness were hanging on pegs in the barn. Geese, turkeys and +chickens were numerous and clucked about as if they were really pleased to +see us, and in fact, I discounted or anticipated the looks of the house +from the careless dilapidated appearance of every thing around and about +the old man's farm. + + +[Illustration] + + +He finally unyoked his oxen, dropped the yoke right where he took it off +and turned his cattle into the yard. "Now then, we'll get a bite to eat, +and I'll show you two horses, and durn me if I won't give you your choice +and a good trade." "Martha-Ann," he called, "Martha-Ann!" + +In a moment a little, bright, bustling old woman came to the door and +shading her eyes with her apron, called back: "What is it, Dan'l? Did you +bring the merlasses, and candles, and the broom?" + +"Yes," he answered back. + +"And the salt?" + +"Yes." + +"And the rennet for the cheese, and the salt-pork?" + +"Yes, yes, yes," he answered, "and I've brought a young man, Phil. Ulmer's +son; goin to trade him 'Dick.'" + +"What?" said she, coming out to where we were. "Now, Dan'l, you are not +going to do anything of the kind." + +"Yes, I be," he said. + +"You shan't, I won't have my horse sold; you know he is the only one I can +drive, and he is so kind and gentle, and the only good horse you have; you +shan't sell him." And then she sat down on the cart-tongue and cried as if +her heart would break, and I began to think I was going to really get a +splendid horse at a bargain. + +All through the dinner she sobbed, and when she would pass me bread or +anything, it was with a heartbroken sigh, and I began to want that horse. + +Finally dinner finished, he took me to the barn. There were two horses +together standing on the barn-floor eating corn-husk. They both looked as +if they never had eaten anything else. One was a bay, and the other a +grey; they were so poor that you could mistake either for a barrel with +half the staves fallen in. + +"Thar, sir, be two fine critters; you can have either; this grey one is +Dick, the one the old woman is so sot on, but he's getting too frisky for +her ter handle, he's the best dispositioned animal yer ever saw; yer do +anything with him, he's always ready. Get him with 'tother on a load at +the bottom of a big hill and he's thar every time; yer see, he's a leetle +sprung in one knee thar, he done that by pulling; it don't hurt him a bit +ter drive, and go! Why, do you know he's trotted in two minutes? You +notice, one eye's bit off color! Blue? Wall sir, that was strained a +leetle by watching over his blinder to see that no other hoss should pass +or get near him when he were druve on the race track twelve years ago, but +it don't hurt him now." + +"You praise this horse," I remarked, "but don't say a word about the +other." + +"Oh, he don't need it," said the old man dryly. + +I was so anxious to get a horse, I concluded to take Dick. I thought, he +must be the best on Martha-Ann's account, and really there didn't seem +much choice. + +"You want a harness and waggin too, don't yer?" + +"Yes," I replied, "I shall have to have something to drive him in." + +"Wall, I guess I can fix you out with a full rig." + +So after looking through the sheds, he pulled out an old gig with one +shaft broken and without wheels. "Guess I'll find the wheels of this +somewhar. Do you know this is the same gig that very Dick yused ter haul +on the race track; he may remember it after yer hitch him into it. If he +does, you want to look out for him, and here are the wheels." + +He pulled them out of a pile of old lumber and rubbish, and fitted them +on; one was badly dished in and was painted red, the other was as badly +dished out and one day had been painted yellow; but I was anxious and +didn't object; I wanted to get home. + +So after getting the "gig" together, he patched a harness from the odd +pieces he found, then fitted them on to the poor horse who looked as if he +was sorry he was alive. + +Finally we had everything all ready. I mounted the "gig." As I did so, I +noticed it seemed one sided, and looking at the wheels, I found one was +somewhat larger than the other, but said nothing. Taking up the lines made +up my mind to get home and fix it there. I pulled on the reins and spoke +to "Dick," but he didn't move. The old man took him by the bridle and led +him to the road remarking at the same time, "Dick never did like to go +away from home." + +After we reached the road, the old man hit "Dick" with a hoe handle, and +off he started. It was four miles from his house to ours, and I reached +home NEXT DAY. Figured up what the whole thing cost me: The horse stood me +$33.50, the "gig" $7.50, and the harness, (?) 75 cents. This was my outfit +to make or break me. My brothers laughed at my trade, but I didn't care, +I had a purpose, and I was bound to accomplish it. + +When I wanted to use my "rig," to harness the horse, I was obliged to take +a ladder to put his bridle on, lead him alongside of the steps to put the +saddle and breeching on, and back him up to the well-curb to put his tail +in the "crupper," and after he was hitched to the "gig," nine times out of +ten he would wait till he was ready to go. + +Some time after I learned that uncle "Dan'l" was a regular horse dealer +and kept just such old plugs around him, and that they were always his +wife's favorites when the old man wanted to get one off his hands. +However, Dick and I became great friends. I fixed up the old "gig," and it +answered my purpose. I got there with it. + +It became a customary daily routine for me to harness this poor animal, +start at sundown and drive all night. Where? Why to Augusta to try and get +mustered in, but I would always ride back broken hearted and disappointed, +my ardor, however, not dampened a bit. I became a guy to my brothers and +neighbors. My father and step-sister indulged me in my fancy, helping me +all they could--father by furnishing me with money, and step-sister by +putting up little lunches for my pilgrimages during the night. They +thought me partially insane, and judged it would be best to let me have my +own idea, with the hope that it would soon wear off. But it didn't. I +would not give up. The Yankee yearning for fight had possession of me, and +I could neither eat, sleep nor work. I was bound to be a soldier. I +prayed for it, and I sometimes thought, my prayers were answered; that the +war should last 'till I was big enough to be one--for it did. + +I had enlisted four times in different towns, and each time I went before +a mustering officer, I was rejected. "Too small" I was every time +pronounced, but I was not discouraged or dismayed--the indomitable pluck +and energy of those downeast boys pervaded my system. I was bound to get +there, for what I didn't know, I did not care or didn't stop to think. I +only thought of the glory of being a soldier, little realizing what an +absurd-looking one I would make; but the ambition was there, the pluck was +there, and the patriotism of a man entered the breast of the wild dreamy +boy. I wanted to go to the front--and I went. + +After several unsuccessful attempts to be mustered into the service at +Augusta, which was twenty-five miles from our little farm, I thought I +would enlist from the town of Freedom and thereby get before a different +mustering officer who was located in Belfast. I had grown, I thought, in +the past six weeks, and before a new officer, I thought my chances of +being accepted would improve; so on a bright morning in September I +mounted my "gig," behind my little old gray horse, who seemed to say, as +he turned his head to look at me when I jumped on to the seat, "What a +fool you are, making me haul you all that distance, when you know they +won't have you!" but kissing my little step-sister good-bye, with a wave +of my hand to father and brothers who stood in the yard and door of the +dear old home, I drove away, and as I did so I could see the expressions +of ridicule and doubt on their faces, while underneath it all there was a +tinge of sadness and fear. They did not think for a moment. I would be +mustered into the army, yet fear took possession of them when I drove off, +for they knew my determined disposition. + +Well, I arrived in Belfast. Instead of driving direct to the stable and +hotel, and putting my horse up, I drove direct to the office of the +mustering officer. I did not need to fasten my trusty horse, for he knew +it would only be a few moments, and as I went to the office door, he +turned his head and whinnied as if he were laughing at me. I entered that +office like a young Napoleon. I had made up my mind to walk in before the +officer very erect and dignified, even to raising myself on tiptoe. On +telling the clerk my errand, he ushered me into an inner office, and +imagine my surprise--my consternation--when, swinging around in his chair, +I found myself in the presence of the very officer who had rejected me in +Augusta so many times. + +"Damn it," said he, "will you never let up? Go home to your mother, boy, +don't pester me any more. I will not accept you, and let that end it." + +I tremblingly told him "I had grown since he saw me last, and that by the +time I was mustered in I would grow some more, and that I would drum and +fight, if it should prove actually necessary." + +Thus I pleaded with him for fully one hour. Finally he said, "Well, damned +if I don't muster you in, just to get rid of you. Sergeant, make out this +young devil's papers and let him go and get killed." My heart leaped into +my mouth. I tried to thank him, but he would not have it. He hurried me +through, and at 5:30 P. M., September 15, 1863, I was a United States +soldier. And when I donned that uniform, what a looking soldier! The +smallest clothes they issued looked on me as if it would make a suit for +my entire family, but in spite of the misfit, I took them and put them on, +with the pants legs rolled up to the knees, and the overcoat dragging on +the ground. + +I went out of that office as proud as a peacock, but a laughing-stock for +the boys, and all who gazed at me. I think even the old horse smiled and +looked askance; he acted as if I was fooling him, and hungry as he was, +when he turned towards the stable, he dragged along as if he either were +sorry or ashamed to draw me among people; but I cared not for their jeers +and laughs. I was now a soldier and anxious to get home. I pictured the +feeling and joyous greetings of my brothers and sister as they would see +me ride up in my uniform; how the boys would envy me, and how the sister +would throw her arms about me and kiss me, and how her bosom would heave +with pride as she gazed upon the uniform that covered her hero brother. +Oh! I pictured it all in my boyish fancy, and hastened all my +arrangements, so full of joy that I could scarcely eat. I would not wait +till morning, but started home about midnight, arriving there just at +sunrise. + + +[Illustration] + + +It was on the 17th of September, 1863, one of those bright, balmy days +that we have in good old New England, seated in a "gig," might be seen the +writer of this little sketch, dressed in soldiers' clothes, covered by one +of those familiar cape overcoats that nearly covered the "gig" and poor +old horse. I felt as proud as if I was the general in command of all the +army. + +Instead of giving the family a surprise, they had heard of my enlisting +from the stage-driver, and I found them all in tears. But when I made my +appearance tears changed to laughter, for the sight of me I think was +enough to give them hope. They didn't believe our government would have +such a little, ill-dressed soldier. And father said, after looking me all +over: "Well, if they have mustered you in, after they see you in that +uniform it will be muster out, my boy." + +In about ten days I received orders to report in Augusta. Then the family +realized there was more in it than they at first thought, but consoled +themselves with the belief that when I reached headquarters, I would be +found useless, and sent home. I went away, leaving them with that feeling +of hope struggling behind their copious tears. And the lingering kiss of +my little step-sister, and her soft sobbing, "Don't, don't, please don't +go," as she hung around my neck, ran constantly in my mind from that time +till now. All through the nights, on the long marches, in all my troubles, +that soft, sweet voice was calling, "George, please, please, don't go." +And I could see her little form, and her ever-thoughtful face, a guiding +star and a compass that ever guided me away from the shoals and +quicksands. She was an angel companion to me all through the trials and +hardships of that awful war. + +Well, I arrived in Portland, was sent to the barracks with three or four +thousand others, was allotted a hard bunk, and then for the first time did +I realize what I was doing, what I had committed myself to, and I think if +I could have caught that mustering officer I should have appealed to him +just as hard to muster me out, as I did to muster me in; but I was in it +and must stay. I will never forget the first day of my soldier experience. +With what feeling of awe and thumping of my cowardly, timid heart, I heard +the different commands of the officers. The disciplining began; the +routine of a soldier's life had really started right in Portland, far away +from the front where I had only expected to find it. I was detained in +those barracks only a few days, and the tap of the drum, and the sound of +the bugle as they sounded their different calls, had grown monotonous to +me; I no longer regarded them with awe, but with mockery. I wanted to go +to the front where the real life of a soldier was known, where glory could +be won. I wanted the reality, not boy's play. + +I was glad when I was numbered among a squad of about 200 who had orders +to go to Washington. That night we marched down to the depot and were +crowded into cars. I did not care; I was overjoyed: I was delighted at the +prospects of going to the seat of war, near the front, where I thought I +might hear the booming of the cannon, and to a place where I would soon be +forwarded to my regiment. We arrived in Boston, and to my disappointment, +were laid over. We were marched to the barracks on Beach street, which in +early days was the "Beach Street Theater." The seats, benches, gallery, +stage and scenery were all there, and we were crowded into this old, +unused temple of Thespis to select a place to sleep where best we could, +on the floor, or anywhere. Here I began to grow sick of soldiering; we +were in this old musty theater with a guard over us, not allowed to go on +the street, and unable to find out how long we were to be incarcerated +there, for we were treated more like prisoners than men who had +volunteered to serve their country. + +I thought it a great hardship at that time, and kicked at it loud and +hard, without any result that benefited us; but since I have been through +it all, I can see where it was absolutely necessary to use the rigid and +seemingly ungrateful discipline. Well, we were kept in the old theater +for about a week; we ware allowed out for two hours each day on passes, +and in the evening we sang songs and "acted" on the stage. Each one who +could recite or do anything did it, and it was appreciated by a deadhead +audience, something unusual nowadays. It was here in this old Beach Street +Theater that my future life was undoubtedly mapped out; from that time I +was impressed with a desire to become an actor, and there is no doubt that +the seed was planted then and grew and increased in after years. + +On the 11th of November, we were ordered to Washington, and embarked on +the steamboat train via Fall River, and I shall never forget when we +arrived in New York, the demonstration, the greeting, the cheers, the +God-speeds that we received as we marched through the city to the ferry, +and it seemed to me that I was the one all this was meant for; I thought I +was a hero. It seemed that all eyes were on me, and perhaps they were, for +among all those Maine giants I belied my state, for I was a dot only, a +pigmy beside those mighty woodsmen. + +We arrived in Washington without mishap. I was granted permission to go +over the city, and then to report to the commanding officer of the camp at +Alexandria. My first desire when I found myself with a privilege in the +great capital was to visit President Lincoln, have a talk with him and +also with Secretary Stanton. My admiration for those two men was almost +love, and I fancied, now that I was a soldier, that I could easily meet +them; that they would grasp me by the hand, compliment and shower me +with congratulations and advice. It is needless to say that I found out +that I had overestimated my importance; I did not discuss the war +situation with either of those gentlemen. I was a little crestfallen at +not meeting them, but contented myself by looking over the city; and +wherever I went I noticed I was scrutinized by everybody; soldiers on +guard would come to a halt, hesitate and then present arms; some officers +would pass me by, then turn and look me over from head to foot; others +would touch their caps and then turn and watch me with a kind of wondering +gaze, as much as to say, "What is it?" + + +[Illustration: _Our Troops Passing Through Washington to the Front._] + + +I forgot to mention that while in Portland I had a tailor make me a very +handsome suit of military clothes. He was as ignorant of the regulation +style as I was. He only knew the colors and knew that I wanted it nice and +handsome. He made it and so covered it over with gold braid and ornaments, +that you could not tell whether I was a drum-major or a brigadier-general; +that accounted for the salutations and looks of astonishment I received. + +The first night I was tired out and started for Alexandria; arrived at +headquarters about midnight, and told the sentry I must see the colonel. +He thought I had important messages, or was some officer, and escorted me +to the colonel's quarters. I woke him up, told him I had reported and +wanted a bed. + +The colonel said, "Is that all you want? Corporal, put this man in the +guard-house." He did! + +That was my first experience, and I always after tried to avoid +guard-houses. The next morning I was given a broom and put to sweeping +around camp with about twenty tough-looking customers. The broom did not +look well with my uniform, and as soon as an officer noticed me, I was +summoned before the colonel in command. He asked, what I was? I told him I +didn't know yet--would not know 'till I reached my regiment. He had a +hearty laugh at my appearance; said I ought to be sent to some fair +instead of the front. However, he detailed me as his orderly. I held this +position some time, until one day there was going to be a squad of +recruits, and returned furloughed men sent on a steam-barge to the front +at City Point, where Butler was bottled up. I asked to be one of them. The +colonel told me I was foolish, and better stay with him, but I insisted; +and he allowed me to go. The barge was a kind of an open double-deck boat +without cabin or shelter, and they crowded us on to her as thick as we +could stand; we were like sardines. I secured a position against the +smoke-stack, and before we reached Chesapeake bay I was glad of it, for it +became bitterly cold, and I curled down around this smoke-stack, went to +sleep, and when I awoke in the morning I was crisp, dirty, and nearly +roasted alive. We crossed the bay in the afternoon. Oh, wasn't it rough! +This old river barge would roll and pitch out of sight at times, and we +were all wet from head to foot. Then I began to wish myself home on the +farm again; but I was in for it, and could not back out. I had one +thought that buoyed me up, the thought of meeting my brother. + +That evening we passed by Fortress Monroe, up the James river. There was +not much transpired to relieve the monotony or appease our hunger or +thirst; in fact, it began to look dubious as to reaching City Point. The +monotony, however, was somewhat relieved in the morning. About daylight a +commotion was caused by the sound of distant cannonading. Every one +crowded to the front of the boat; everybody was asking questions of +everybody. Each one had some idea to offer as to the cause. Some ventured +to say it was a gunboat up the river practising. One old chap, who had +evidently been to the front, facetiously claimed that it was the corks out +of Butler's bottles. The river was very crooked at this point, and you +could not see very far; but presently we rounded a bend in the river, +which revealed to us where the cannonading came from, but for what, we +could not make out. About a mile ahead of us lay a United States gunboat, +and every few minutes a puff of smoke, and then a loud +bang--erang--erang--erang--with its long vibrations on that still morning, +awoke a sense of fear in everyone aboard that boat. No one could account +for the situation. Even the captain of the barge stood with pallid cheek, +seemingly in doubt what to do as he rang the bell to slow down; but on--on +we kept moving--nearer and nearer this most formidable war-ship, and as we +did so the shots became more frequent. Then we noticed a man on the bank +waving a flag back and forth, up and down in a wild, excited sort of a +way. I asked what that meant. An old soldier said the man was signaling +the boat to let them know they had hit the target. + +Suddenly we were brought to an understanding of what it all meant, for we +could now hear the musketry very plain, and could even see the rebels on +the banks of the river. At this point a "gig" from the gunboat pulled +alongside and gave orders to the captain "to land those troops at once," +telling him at the same time that this was Fort Powhatan landing; that +Fitzhugh Lee with his cavalry had swooped down upon the garrison, which +was only composed of two hundred negro troops, and that they must be +re-enforced. The captain protested, as the troops on board were all +unarmed, being returned furloughed men and recruits; but it was no use, +the order was imperative, and the captain headed his barge toward the +shore. There was no wharf. That had been burnt, so he was obliged to run +as far as he could onto the sand, then land us overboard. I tell you as +that boat neared toward the shore, my face felt as if it were marbleized; +sharp twinges ran up and down my whole body, and I'll bet that I was the +picture of a coward. I was not the only one. I looked them all over, every +one looked just as I felt. One man who stood near me, I know, was more +frightened than I, for he was so frightened he smelt badly. But I didn't +blame any of those poor men; it was not the pleasantest thing in the world +to be placed before the enemy as we were. However, we all landed. + + +[Illustration: _Battle between Monitor and Merrimack off Fortress +Monroe._] + + +The firing above us on the bank became more intense. An officer who was on +the boat with us, returning from a leave of absence, assumed command. He +ordered us to fall into line, and marched us into a little ravine, halted, +and told us the position and necessity of the occasion. He said the fort +was a very important position, and must be held at all hazards; that there +were only two hundred colored troops there, and they could not hold it. +Now, he proposed, as we had no arms, to go in with a rush and a yell, and +make those rebels think that re-enforcements had arrived. All this time +the musketry firing was increasing. The whizz of bullets through the air +and about our heads were becoming too frequent. I was in the front rank, +center of the line, and I tell you I think I had a little of that +frightened smell about me at this time. Whether it was that or my looks or +what, the officer probably took pity on me and told me to skirmish in the +rear. I hardly knew where the rear was, but I thought it would be safer +under the bank of the river, and there I hastened, and none too soon, for +the rebels had made a break through the lines and poured several volleys +into our poor, unarmed re-enforcements. The rebs became more cautious, and +that was what was wanted, as the only hope we had was to hold them at bay +until re-enforcements could arrive. + +Well, I skirmished in the rear, and I found it hotter than the front, for +the rebs would crawl to the bank at either end of the breastworks and +kept a cross-fire up and down the river. Under and against the banking, +there was a sort of old barn; this was filled with hay. The bullets were +flying around so thickly that I squeezed myself behind this barn, and +after I was well in, the bullets just rained against that old building; +but I felt pretty secure till I looked up overhead--I saw that while I was +in safety from bullets, a worse danger threatened me. The overhanging bank +was liable to cave in and bury me alive. + +The uncertainty of my position became more and more apparent. Each moment +the increased storm of bullets on the barn prevented me from even looking +out, and the constant rattling down of dirt and pebbles from above, told +me plainly what a position I was in. I tell you I wished then I had never +been mustered in. The uncertainty of my position was soon developed. I +came to myself and found I was buried to my neck; my head and face were +cut and bleeding, and a soldier was trying to wipe the sand from my eyes +and ears. I found I had not been shot, but the banking had caved in and +buried me. Gen. "Baldy" Smith, who was in command, happened to see me +behind the barn just as the bank caved in. It was he who put the soldiers +at work to rescue me. As soon as I was out, and the dust out of my eyes, +the general rode down to the beach, leading an extra horse; he called to +me. Ordered me to mount. I did so. He made me his orderly. + +A new danger. I was to carry dispatches across the field, but I did not +now have the fear I did at first. I did not mind the sound of the +bullets. I became accustomed to it, and I rode back and forth all day long +without a scratch. I believe I was so small that I rode between those +bullets, and from that time forth I had no fear. I felt as though I were +bullet-proof. I felt as if it were ordained that I should go through the +war unscathed and unscarred. It did seem so, for I would go through places +where it rained bullets, and come out without a scratch. This was my +experience all through, and was commented on by comrades, who said I had a +charmed life. Well, the day wore away the rebs making feints first at one +point, then another. Finally they concentrated their forces against one +point, and would have carried it, too, but just then a steamboat loaded +with troops rounded the bend of the river. Well, the shouts that went up +from the handful of brave soldiers at the sight of that boat I never can +forget. The boys on the boat caught the sound. They took in the situation, +and answered back the shout with three long, hearty cheers. It created +consternation in the rebel lines. They knew the jig was up, but they drew +up in line, like dare-devils that they were, and with a cool deliberation, +poured volley after volley into the side of the steamer until her nose +touched the shore. Well, to see those soldiers leave that steamer was a +sight never to be forgotten. They jumped overboard from every part of her. +It did not seem five minutes from the time she touched shore until the +banks were swarming with our boys in blue. The rebels had taken to +flight--our boys followed some distance, and then returned, relieving us +and allowing us to embark again for City Point. After the rebels had +retreated, I went outside the breastworks, and the sight that met my eyes +on every side would curdle the blood of stouter hearts than mine. It +appeared that Lee, with his cavalry, had surprised the pickets, and being +negroes, every one they captured they would hang up to a tree after they +were mutilated. I saw several with fingers cut off in order to obtain a +ring quickly, and many other sickening sights which tended to make me a +hardened soldier. I was having lots of experience, even before I had +really reached my regiment, and I tell you, the heroic ardor of my boyish +dream was beginning to ooze out of me quite fast. I began to think I was +not cut for a soldier. + +Well, my first battle was over, my first experience before an enemy. The +first sound of musketry had died away, and we were again steaming towards +City Point to join our regiments. We arrived there the next night about +ten o'clock. There didn't seem to be any one in command of us or any one +to direct us. It was very dark on shore, but in the distance you could see +a glaring light above the horizon, as if there was a long building on +fire. But from the occasional sound of guns from that quarter, I made up +my mind it was the advance line of our army. It was Butler's command, and +our regiment, the Eighth Maine, must be there. The Eighth Maine, Company +H, was the regiment and company to which my brother belonged, and in which +I was enlisted. I started out across the fields in the direction of the +light--on, on I tramped, into ditches, through mires, over fences. The +farther I went the faster I went. I was so impatient I could not hold +myself to a walk; it was a dog-trot all the time. I was heedless of every +obstacle, till I began to near the front. I realized the danger by the +whizzing of shell, and the zip, zip of bullets. I found myself among lots +of soldiers, and how ragged and dirty the poor fellows looked. I asked the +first man I came to where the Eighth Maine was? He looked at me in perfect +astonishment. "This is the Eighth, what's left of it." I asked him if he +knew where my brother was--Charley Ulmer? "Oh, yes," he said, and pointing +to a little group of men, who were round a wee bit of a fire; "there he +is, don't you know him?" + +I hesitated, for really I could hardly tell one from the other. He saw my +bewilderment, and took me by the arm and led me over to the fire. They all +started and stared at me, and to save my life I could not tell which was +my brother; but one more ragged than the rest uttered a suppressed cry, +rushed forward, and throwing his arm about my neck, sobbed and cried like +a child. "My God! my brother! Oh George, George, why did you come here?" +His grief seemed to touch them all, for they all began to wipe their eyes +with their ragged coat-sleeves. This began to tell on me, and for the next +ten minutes it was a kind of a blubbering camp. After awhile they +reconciled themselves, and began to ply me with questions faster than I +could answer. My brother sat down with me and lectured me very soundly +for coming, as there was no need of it. He gave a graphic description of +the hardships they had endured, and I can never obliterate the picture he +presented that night. His clothes were ragged and patched, begrimed with +smoke, grease and dirt; his hat an old soft one, with part of the rim gone +and the crown perforated with bullet holes; his beard scraggly and dirty; +his big toes peeping out of a pair of old boots with the heels all run +down, in fact, he was a sight--a strong contrast to my tailor-made suit. I +will never forget the expression on my brother's face when about half an +hour after my arrival he looked up to me with his eyes half full of tears +glistening on that dirty face, and with a kind of cynical smile, asked, +after looking me over and over: "What are you, anyhow?" + +I told him I didn't know. + +"Well, after you have been here awhile, those pretty clothes won't look as +they do now, and you will probably find out what you are after you have +dodged a few shells." + +Our conversation was brought to a climax by orders to break camp and fall +in. We learned we were going to embark somewhere on a boat; everything was +hustle-bustle now; little sheltered tents were struck, tin cups, canteens, +knapsacks were made ready, and in about fifteen minutes that begrimed, +dirty, hungry family of Uncle Sam's was on the march to the river. We were +marched on board an old ferry-boat, and crowded so thickly that we could +scarcely stand. My brother seemed now to feel that he had the +responsibility of my comfort, even my life, on his hands--and being a +favorite he elbowed me a place at the end of the boat, where we could sit +down by letting our feet hang over the end of the boat. In that position +we remained. We didn't have room to stand up and turn around. I was awful +sleepy, but dared not go to sleep for fear I would fall overboard. Finally +my brother fixed me so I could lay my head back, and he held on to me +while I slept. The next morning we landed at a place called West Point, on +the York river; why we landed there we didn't know. Of course soldiers +never did know anything of the whys and wherefores; they only obeyed +orders, stood up or laid down and got killed--they had no choice in the +matter. Well, we landed, and I tell you, we were stiff and hungry. While +they were unloading the horses, which was done by lowering them into the +water and letting them swim ashore, which took some time, they allowed us +a chance to skirmish for food. About half a mile from the river were a +dozen houses--nice-looking places. Towards these we started; they were all +closed up; they all looked deserted; there was not a sign of life, except +the cackle of hens or chickens in the hen-house. Chickens were good enough +for us, and I was one of the first to get to the pen; secured two handfuls +of chicks, and was just emerging with them when a big woman confronted me; +she stood and looked me straight in the eye, and with both hands held on +to a mastiff, that to me looked as big as an ox. + +"How dare you?" said she. + +"I don't," said I. + +"What are you doing with my chickens, you good-for-nothing Yankee thief?" + +I tried to apologize, but it was no use. Even my pretty uniform had no +more effect than my eloquence. I simply put Mr. and Mrs. Chicks down and +backed out of the yard. She was good enough to hold on to the dog, for +which I was very grateful. I think I had more respect for the dog than the +lady. However, I had to resort to pork and hard tack for my breakfast. +About noon that day we began our march. Where we were going, everybody +guessed, but none knew. I didn't care. I was now a kind of a half-settled +soldier, but from the first, I was a kind of privileged character. No one +gave me orders. No one seemed to claim me. I had never been assigned to +any company. I never had to answer roll-call. I could go and come as I +pleased. Once in awhile a guard would halt me, but not often. They didn't +know what I was, and they didn't care. All the afternoon we marched. Our +route was along the railroad, the rails of which had the appearance of +being recently torn up by the rebels. About four o'clock I was becoming +very tired. We came to a clearing, and some distance in the field was a +darky plowing with a mule. I made a break for him, and the rest of that +march I rode. No one objected, but the boys shouted as I made my +appearance on the mule; a mile or two further along we sighted a +farm-house. I drew reins on my mule and made for the house; I made the +boys glad on my return, for I secured a demijohn of applejack, a big +bundle of tobacco, and a box of eggs. That successful raid gave me +courage, and I began to think that was what I was destined for, and I +liked it first-rate, for it was a pleasure to me to see those poor, hungry +boys have any delicacy, or even enough of ordinary food. + +That night we had to halt, for the rebs had burned the bridge, and we had +to wait for pontoons. The boys were tired and hungry. A guard was posted +to prevent any foraging, but I was a privileged character, and I bolted +through the lines. I had seen some pigs and calves scamper into the swamp +about half a mile back from where we halted, and thinking a bit of fresh +meat would be nice for the boys, I determined to have some. Cautiously I +stole away, till I arrived at the edge of the swamp; and such a jungle! It +was almost impossible to penetrate it, so I skirted the edge, hoping to +see a pig emerge. After tramping an hour I was rewarded by seeing a calf. +I drew my revolver, sneaked up and fired at poor bossy. It dropped--I was +a good shot--but when I reached the poor beast I found it was as poor as a +rail and covered with sores as big as my hand. I was disappointed, but cut +off as much as I could that was not sore, and took it to camp. We put the +kettles on the fires in short order, and my brother's company had fresh +meat broth--the first fresh meat in a month--and I tell you it was good, +even if it had been sore. After that episode Company H claimed me and +dubbed me their mascot. I accepted the position, and from that time forth +I devoted my time to foraging, stealing anything I could for my company, +and I doubt if there was a company in the whole army that fared better +than ours, for I was always successful in my expeditions. + +After a long, tedious march across pontoons, over corduroy roads, we +confronted the Johnnies at "Cold Harbor." It was here that I found myself +in a real, genuine battle. I got lost in the scuffle. I found myself +amidst bursting shell and under heavy musketry fire. I was bewildered and +frightened. I did not know which way to go. I ran this way and that, +trying to find my brother and regiment. Every turn I made it seemed I +encountered more bullets and shells. Soldiers were shouting and running in +every direction, artillery was galloping here and there, on every side it +seemed they were fighting for dear life. On one side of me I saw horses +and men fall and pile up on top of each other. Cannon and caissons with +broken wheels were turned upside down, riderless horses were scampering +here and there, officers were riding and running in all directions, the +shells were whizzing through the air, and soldiers shouting at the top of +their voices. Everything seemed upside down. I thought the world had come +to an end. I tried to find shelter behind a tree, away from the bullets, +but as soon as I found shelter on one side it seemed as though the bullets +and shells came from all sides, and I lay down in utter despair and +fright. I don't know how long I was there, but when I awoke I thought the +war was over, it was so still. I thought every one had been killed on both +sides, excepting myself. I was just thinking I would try and find a live +horse, ride back to Washington and tell them that the war was over, +everybody was killed, when my brother tapped me on the shoulder and asked +me where I had been. He had gone through it all, escaped with the loss of +one toe, and had come to the rear to have it dressed and find me. + + +[Illustration: _Desperate Charge of Confederates to Capture a Union +Battery._] + + +The next morning I was sent with the "Stretcher Corps" under a flag of +truce to the battle field to help take the wounded to the rear and bury +the dead, and when we reached the scene, how well could I imagine what the +awful struggle had been. The worst of the great conflict had occurred in +an orchard, and there the sight was most appalling; dead and dying heroes +were lying about as thick as a slumbering camp would be, sleeping with +their guns for pillows the night before a battle; to many of those poor +fellows it was that sleep that knows no waking, while to others it was the +awaking from unconsciousness by the twinges of a mortal gaping wound, +awake just long enough to get a glimpse of the Gates Ajar, sink back and +start on that journey from which no traveler returns. + +Blue and the gray were mingled together on this awful field of slaughter, +and both sides seemed to respect the solemnity by a cessation of +hostilities, and the hushed silence was only broken by the painful cry of +some helpless wounded, or dying groans of others. The little white cloth +we wore around our arms to denote, we belonged to the stretcher corps, +seemed to add to the sadness of the occasion, for to those poor wounded +souls we were like ministering angels, and as I moved from one to the +other with tear dimmed eyes offering water and assistance to those who +needed it I saw many incidents of bravery and self-sacrifice that went far +toward ameliorating the suffering and obliterating the bitterness of the +blue and the gray. I noticed one poor fellow who had spread his rubber +blanket to catch the dew of the night sharing the moisture thus gathered +with an unfortunate confederate who had lost a leg. Another, a +confederate was staying the life-blood of a union officer by winding his +suspenders around the mangled limb. Oh! the horror of such a picture can +never be penned--or told, and contemplated only by soldiers who have been +there. + +One-half of our regiment had been killed or wounded. After this things +settled down into a siege. I employed my time foraging for the company. +One day I found an apple orchard, gathered as many apples as I could +carry, took them to the company and made apple-sauce without sweetening. +They ate very heartily of it, poor fellows. It was a treat for them; but +it was a bad find, for the next day the whole lot of them were unfit for +duty. That nearly put a stop to my reconnoitering. Our regiment lay here +in the advance line of breastworks for thirteen days. The sappers and +miners were constantly working our breastworks towards the enemy, and +every time I wanted to reach my company I found it in a new place and more +difficult to reach. The rebel sharpshooters, with their deadly aim, were +waiting for such chaps as me. However, under cover of night, I always +managed to find and reach the company with some palatable relish. + +I will never forget one night; four men were detailed to go to the rear +for rations. The commissary was located about two miles to the rear, and +the wagon could only haul the rations within one mile of us on account of +jungle and rebel sharpshooters. Therefore these men were detailed to pack +the rations the rest of the way. I was one of the detail from my company. +We went back to the covered wagons that were waiting for us. The boys said +I was too small to walk, and they threw me into the rear end of one of the +wagons. We got to the commissary tent--a long tent open at both ends--and +from both ends they weighed out the rations of coffee, sugar, etc. While +the soldier who was doing the weighing on one end had his back turned, I +managed to fill my haversack from a full barrel of coffee that stood at +the end of the tent. I had two haversacks for that purpose, for I went +there with that intent; but I came away with only one filled. I could not +get a chance for the other; it was on the wrong side. Finally the rations +were all aboard, and we started back. The boys repeated the operation of +throwing me into the wagon again, and there was my opportunity. I would +fill my other haversack from the bags in the wagon; that's what the boys +expected I would do, and I did from the first bag I could get into. Each +company had its own bag. + +When we arrived at the breastworks my company crowded around me for +plunder. I divided it up, and was looked upon as quite a hero, but when +the rations were issued it was found our company's bag was short about +thirty rations of sugar, but no one said a word. It was surmised that it +got spilled. Day after day our regiment lay there and our army did not +seem to gain anything. I was becoming disgusted and discouraged. + + +[Illustration: _My First Day in Front of Petersburg._] + + +One night the Johnnies made a charge on us. That was the only time I ever +fired a gun in the whole war, and I honestly believe I killed a dozen men, +for immediately after they stopped firing. It was only a few moments, +however; on they came, only to be repulsed. They kept that up nearly all +night, and I served my country by standing down in the trench, loading a +gun and passing it up to my brother to fire. I did this all night, but I +didn't see any less rebels in the morning. Our next order was to fall +back, under cover of darkness. We fell back about a mile and halted for +some reason, I thought to get breakfast. Anyway I built a little fire +behind a stone wall, put my coffee-pot on and the remnants of a pot of +beans. They were getting nice and hot; my brother and I stood waiting, +smacking our lips in the anticipation of a feast, when whizz came one of +those nasty little "Cohorn" mortor shells and it dropped right into our +coffee and beans. Then the bugle sounded, "fall in," and we started with +downcast hearts and empty stomachs, and a longing good-bye to the debris +of beans and coffee. It was a tiresome march. Of course, we didn't know +where we were going, and that made it all the longer. + +We eventually brought up at White-House landing on the York river, where +we were put on board of a steam transport without being given time to draw +rations. From there we steamed down the York and up the James river to the +Appomattox, and up the river to Point of Rocks. We landed here on the +Bermuda Hundred side, in the rear of Butler's works, obtained some bread +and coffee, and then crossed the Appomattox on pontoons and pushed on +towards Petersburg. Our regiment belonged at that time to the 2nd brigade, +2nd division of the 18th corps, commanded by Major General "Baldy" Smith. + +We soon met the enemy's pickets in front of Petersburg. They fled before +that long, serpentine file of blue-coats like deer. On, on we went. We +could see the rebels running in their shirt sleeves, throwing coats, guns +and everything in their mad flight. I don't think there was a shot fired +on either side 'till we reached a fort, Smith I think it was called. It +was just at dusk. This fort was located on a mound or hill with a ravine +in front of it. Our brigade was drawn up in line of battle in a +wheat-field on the right. A colored brigade was ordered to charge the fort +from the hill opposite, and across this ravine; then I beheld one of the +grandest and most awful sights I ever saw; those colored troops started on +a double quick, and as they descended the hill, the fort poured volley +after volley into them. The men seemed to fall like blades of grass before +a machine, but it did not stop them; they rallied and moved on; it was +only the work of a few minutes. With a yell they were up and into that +fort, and in less time than it takes to tell it, the guns were turned on +the fleeing rebels. Here was the greatest mistake of our greatest +commander. All of our army was brought to a standstill by some one's +foolish order. Not another move was made. We lay there waiting, and all +night long we could hear the trains rumbling along on the other side of +the Appomattox river. Lee had been outwitted. We had stolen a march on +him. We had arrived in front of defenseless Petersburg, and could have +gone right in and on to Richmond without a struggle. But that fatal order +to halt gave him all night to hurry his forces from Cold Harbor, and in +the morning we found plenty of determined rebels in front of us, and +thereby the war was prolonged months and hundreds and thousands of lives +lost. I swore all night. I kicked and condemned every general there was in +the army for the blunder I saw they were making. I only wished I could be +the general commanding for one hour. But it was no use; I couldn't be. + +I was nothing but a boy. But I had my ideas. I thought, perhaps, more than +some of the officers did. I kept myself posted on facts and the topography +of the country. The dispositions of generals was a matter of grave +importance to me. I believed generals should be selected to command, NOT +for their qualifications in military tactics alone, NOT because they had +graduated well-dressed from "West Point," but for their indomitable pluck, +judgment and honesty of purpose. It did seem to me that some of our best +officers were invariably placed in the most unimportant positions and +commands. Take, for instance, "Custer's" Brigade of daring men, headed by +those intrepid officers, Alger and Towns, wasting their time and +imperiling the lives of thousands of good soldiers around "Emettsburg," +"Gordonsville," "Bottom Bridge," carrying out the foolish orders of +superiors in command. Why could not these officers of cool judgment be +with us at this critical moment?--they made THEIR victories, what would +they have done had they the great opportunities that were presented to +others who failed? + +All night about the camp-fire the boys would delight in nagging +me--getting me into arguments and debates. They called me the "midget +orator of the Army of the Potomac." I will never forget one night soon +after the advance on Petersburg; we were clustered about with coffee cups +and pipes; an argument waxed warm in regard to the possibilities of the +war lasting two more years; finally I was called upon for my views. +"Midget," said Col. McArthur, "if you had supreme command of our army, +what would you do?" + +What would I do? If Uncle Sam would give me one regiment from each State +in the Union--give me Grant, Burnside, Sherman, Sheridan, Custer, Alger, +Hooker, Hancock, Thomas and Siegel to command them, I would take Richmond +and settle the rebellion before they had time to wire and ask Stanton if I +should. This was received with cheering and applause. But my boyish +fancies and ideas were never gratified; I never had the pleasure of seeing +my ideal army together, and Richmond was not taken for many months +afterward. + +A few days after our regiment was drawn up in line of battle in a +wheatfield. It was just nightfall. I was lying down on the bank of a ditch +waiting for the move-forward. Suddenly a shell came over my head and bust +right in the center of my company. I thought I saw legs and arms flying in +all directions. + +I started on the dead run for the rear. I believed I was going right, but +it seemed as if the shells were coming from our own guns in the rear. I +thought they had mistaken us for the enemy. I could see the shells coming, +and every time they would fire, I would fall on my stomach, and thought +they all went just over my head. I was soon, however, out of range, and +began to feel easy, when a new fear took possession of me. What if I had, +in my bewilderment, run into the rebel lines? I saw just ahead of me an +old-fashioned southern mansion, with a high board fence all around it, and +in the inclosure several small cabins used for the slaves to live in. I +could not remember seeing this before, so I made up my mind I was actually +inside rebeldom. However, I decided to make the best of it, and if I were +or were not I would see if I could find something to eat. With fear and +faltering steps I moved toward the big gate, swung it open, and it gave an +awful squeak as it swung on its old rusty hinges. There was not a sign of +life in or about the place, and that gave me hope and courage. In the +center of the yard was a large hen-house. Cautiously toward this I +crawled, heard the cackle of fowl, went first on one side then on the +other, looking for the door; and imagine my surprise, the fear that took +possession of me--my hair stood on end; for sitting there on a bench back +of this hen-house were two big Johnnies. I couldn't speak, I couldn't +move, till one of them said, "Good evening, sar; got anything to eat?" +"Yes, yes," I stammered, "I have some hard-tack." Finally, one of them +seeing I was most scared to death, spoke up and said, "Don't be alarmed; +we are only deserters and want to give ourselves up; show us to +headquarters." I was brave now. I gave them what hard-tack I had, and +marched them ahead of me back to the rear, till we found headquarters. +Afterward, I was offered a furlough for capturing two of the enemy. I +never told this before; I took the credit. But I was not satisfied; I'd +rather have some of those chickens than live rebels. So back I went and I +got five; started back to the rear, put a kettle on a fire and boiled +them, kept them three days, till I found my brother and the remnant of the +regiment. When I did find them I made their hearts glad by showing them +the boiled chickens. They were awful hungry and set to eating with a +ravenous appetite, but they could not eat them, hungry as they were. I had +no salt, and so put a big chunk of salt beef in the pot instead of salt, +consequently the chickens were saltier then Lot's wife. + +I think I felt more disappointed than anybody, so I determined to make up +for it in some other way. The regiment finally brought up in the first or +advance line of breastwork, and I was still skirmishing in the rear for +anything that I could find that was good. + +I had tramped back to the rear about three miles, my mind bent on securing +anything that would please the heart and eye, or tickle the palates of the +brave fellows who had gone to face the enemy and do the real work of our +country. About a quarter of a mile to the left of me I espied a covered +wagon moving toward the front. I wondered what it was and where it was +bound for, as from the frequent halt it made, it seemed the driver was +lost to himself. I bore down toward him and found it was a sanitary wagon, +loaded with good things sent out by the ladies of the north. The driver +was an old man--one of those long, lanky individuals who might be taken +for a parson or a horse dealer. He reminded me of the "Arkansaw Traveler." +His clothes were of the salt and pepper homespun goods, a little worse for +wear and very ill fitting, they looked as if he had lost fifty pounds of +flesh since he started from home; his pants were tucked into a pair of old +cow-hide boots; his hat was a cross between a stove pipe and a derby; his +hair was red, very long and sprinkled with grey; his eyebrows were shaggy, +nearly meeting over the nose and hanging down over a pair of faded blue +eyes. So wrinkled was his skin that you would think his face was a frozen +laugh; a little strip of red hair ran down the side of his face in front +of his ears and almost met under his chin; the space left open in his +whiskers, evidently an outlet for the tobacco juice that trickled down +from each side of his mouth. As I approached he pulled up his mules and +called to me in a rather cracked voice, "Say, Major, or Sergeant, or what +ever you are, whar's the field hospital?" + +"Three miles from here," said I, pointing backward. + +"What's that firin I hear? Ain't no rebs 'round yere, be thar?" + +"Yes," I replied; "there's a long row of them about half a mile in front +of us, and you had better halt right where you are. What's your cargo?" + +"Wall, I got most anything that is needed by you poor fellows--useful +things. I'm sent here by a society called the Northfield First Methodist +Ladies' Relief and Sanitary Association. They selected me for my courage +to go to the front and distribute this load. But I guess I'll have to go +too near that row of rebs if I'd give them out in person. I'll unhitch +here and feed my mules. You don't think thar's any danger of them +grey-coats disturbing me, do you? I should hate to have all these good +things fall into their hands." + +I inquired what he had, to which he replied with apparent amazement: +"Shirts, stockins, bakin' powder, condensed milk, canned apples, peaches, +Boston beans, tobacco, hair oil, tooth powder, cathartic pills, Jamaiki +ginger, and fine tooth combs----Whoa thar--stop your infernal kickin. Them +durned mules are worse than two-year-old heifers." + +The wearied animals had become all tangled up in the harness, and I +thought I'd steal some of the eatables for my company while he was freeing +and feeding the mules. He gave me a better opportunity however. There was +a patch of peanuts or groundnuts a short distance away. He asked me to +mind his mules while he went to see what they were and how they grew. When +he left me I got into the wagon and loaded myself down with everything +until I could carry no more. Then I conceived an idea, and if he would +only remain away long enough I could carry the thing out. I found a small +hatchet in the wagon, and with my tin cup began digging a hole near the +wagon. I worked like a beaver for awhile, at the same time keeping my eye +on the peanut patch. The size of the receptacle would be determined by the +length of time the old man remained away. Finally I got a hole made about +the size of a bushel basket, and thought I'd take no more chances. I +scrambled into the wagon and threw out cans of milk, etc., until the hole +was completely filled. I had just nicely covered it up when my friend +returned and asked: + +"What YOU been diggin' for thar--them durned things too? Why, durn them, +I'd just as lieve eat raw beans." + +I looked up in a guilty sort of way and told him, "I was digging for a +shell that lit there while he was gone." + +"Ge-whiz! I guess I'd better get out of this place as quick as I can. I +say, Mister, whar's your Comp'ny?" + +"What's alive of them are at the front, suffering from want and hunger," I +replied in a strong manner, thinking perhaps he would drive nearer and +distribute his load. But he was bent on going back. As he climbed to his +seat he said, "I'll tell you, Mr. Sergeant, you kin take a few of these +things to the men that are sick in your company." + +"They are all sick," I said quickly, for I was greedy and wanted all I +could get. He pulled out a hospital shirt and tied up the neck. Having +filled it with condensed milk, tobacco, and other things, he asked me if I +could carry it. "Could I! I could carry all there's in your cart," I +replied. I found my load was a little heavier than I had expected it to +be, but I wouldn't say there was too much, but helped him to hitch up his +mules and he started off, after giving me a warm hand-shake. I watched him +until he disappeared from view, and then thought I would open up the +treasure I had buried and deposit some of the shirtful which he had so +kindly given me after I had robbed him. It would lighten the load and I +could return for the balance next day. I had just started to dig, when I +looked up and saw him driving back as hard as he could drive, "Say, young +fellow, I--I--I," in a wild, excited manner, reigning his mules up with a +jerk and a "Whoa, thar," loud enough to be heard in Petersburg, "I--I +thought I'd drive back and dig up that darned shell. It'll be a great +curiosity. When I get home I can show the folks the dangerous position I +was placed in while distributing these things." + +I didn't stop to hear any more, but hurried away with my shirtful. I ran +hard and fast, and didn't dare to turn and look round. The shells began to +whiz pretty thickly just at this time, and I prayed and hoped that the old +man would get scared and not dig for that shell, for I wanted the boys to +have it. + + +[Illustration: _The Great Mine Explosion in Front of Petersburg._] + + +This was on the day fixed for the great mine explosion, every soldier on +the entire line was waiting with bated breath for the signal or prolonged +rumble of that expected explosion. It did not come, however. The suspense +was broken by the appearance nearly a half a mile away, of a soldier with +something white on his back, that made a good target for the rebel +sharpshooters. Down the railroad I came. I reached the first line of +earthworks. For a short distance I would keep on top. In this way I kept +on, on, first running one breastwork then another, till I reached the +front line. On top of this I ran the whole length, heedless and unmindful +of the rebel bullets that pelted about me. I almost flew along. The +soldiers shouted to me to keep down, but I heeded them not. Finally I +reached the place where my regiment was, jumped down as coolly as if I had +run no risk, deposited my bag, received the congratulations of my company, +who examined me all over to see if there were any wounds. They found none, +however, but on opening the shirt every can of milk had a bullet hole +through it, and condensed milk, extract of beef, and tobacco had to be +eaten as a soufflee. + +The next day found me at the rear again. I looked for the buried +treasure--found it. Evidently the old gent had been frightened away, for +about half the dirt had been removed from the top, and the stuff was not +uncovered. There was a desperate fight going on at the right of our line. +I was pressed into the service of the stretcher corps, which is usually +composed of drummer boys. I did duty at this all the forenoon. The +onslaught was terrible, and many poor fellows did I help carry off that +field; some to live for an hour, others to lose a limb that would prove +their valor and courage for the balance of their lives. + + +[Illustration] + + +This day our regiment was relieved from the front and supposing they were +going to City Point to recruit, they came back about a half a mile, halted +for orders; I heard of it and concluded I would go with them and so +hastened to where they were, and soon after my arrival the order came to +"fall in." They did so with alacrity and bright hopes of much needed rest. +I took my drum and place at the head of the regiment and started with +them. + +The road to the left led to City Point. Imagine their surprise when +nearing it, the order came, "FILE RIGHT, BY COMPANY INTO LINE, DOUBLE +QUICK MARCH." + +The entire regiment seemed paralyzed for a moment, but only for a moment, +the whizzing of the shells and the zip zip of the rebel bullets plainly +told them what caused the sudden change. I was dumbfounded, I didn't know +what to do. My brother yelled to me to go to the rear quick, but I didn't; +I kept on with them until it seemed to rain bullets, but on, on they went +unmindful of the awful storm of leaden messengers of death--on, on and +into one of the fiercest charges of the entire war. I saw men fall so +thick and fast that there didn't seem as if there was any of my regiment +left, and I made up my mind it was too hot for me, so started on the dead +run to the rear for a place of safety, and I didn't stop until I was +pretty sure I was out of harm's way. + +I came to a place about one mile back where evidently there had been a +battery located; here I sat down to rest and meditate. I examined myself +all over to see if I was hit, found I was unhurt but my drum had received +several bullet holes in it. + +Finding a green spot I stretched myself out and listened to the awful +sound of musketry firing which was going on at the front, around me on all +sides was the debris of a deserted camp, empty tin cans, broken bayonets, +pieces of guns, fragments of bursted shell, and occasionally a whole one +that had failed to explode. I had only sat here a few moments thinking +which was the best way to go when I was joined by another Drummer Boy from +a Pennsylvania regiment. We sat down and talked over our exploits, and I +thought he was the most profane lad I had ever met. Most every other word +he uttered was an oath. + +I asked him if he wasn't afraid to talk so. + +"What the h--l should I be afraid of?" he asked, at the same time picking +up an old tent stake and sticking it into the ground, trying to drive it +in with the heel of his boot. Failing in this he reached over and got hold +of an unexploded shell and used this on the stake, but it was heavy and +unwieldy. + +"I wonder if this was fired by those d--d rebs," he asked. + +"I guess it was," I replied, "and you better look out, or it might go +off." + +"Off be d--d, their shells were never worth the powder to blow 'em to +h--l, see the hole in the butt of it, it would make a G--d--d good mawl, +wouldn't it?" and looking round at the same time he found an old broom. +Stripping the brush and wire from the handle he said, "I'll make a mawl of +it and drive that d--d rebel stake into the ground with one of their own +d--d shells, be d--d if I don't." Inserting the broom handle into the end +of the shell he walked over to a stump, and taking the shell in both hands +commenced pounding onto the stick against the stump; "d--d tight fit," he +hollored to me, and the next instant I was knocked down by a terrific +explosion. I came to my senses in a minute and hastened to where he had +been standing. There the poor fellow lay unconscious and completely +covered with blood, there was hardly a shred of clothes on him, his hair +was all burned and both hands taken completely off, as if done by a +surgeon's saw. + +I was excited and horror stricken for a moment. The sight was horrible, +but I quickly regained my composure, knowing that something must be done, +and done quickly. So taking the snares from my drum I wound them tightly +around his wrists to stop the flow of blood, then I hailed an ambulance, +and we took him to the held hospital about a mile to the rear. + +On the way the poor fellow regained consciousness, and looking at his +mutilated wrists, and then with a quick and bewildered glance at me, +"G--d--d tough, ain't it," then the tears started in his eyes, and he +broke down and sobbed the rest of the way, "Oh, my God! What will my poor +mother say? Oh, what will she do!" + +We reached the field hospital, which is only a temporary place for the +wounded where the wounds are hurriedly dressed, and then they are sent to +regular hospitals, located in Baltimore, Philadelphia, Norfolk, +Portsmouth, etc., where they have all the comforts possible. + +We laid the little fellow down in one corner of the tent to wait his turn +with the surgeon, and when I left him, he cried and begged for me to stay, +but I couldn't stand his suffering longer, so I bade him good-bye with +tears streaming down my own cheeks. I hurried out, and even after I +reached the outside I could hear him cry, "Oh, my God! What will my poor +mother say? Oh, what will she do!" + +In the afternoon I was detailed to wait on the amputating tables at the +field hospital. + +It was a horrible task at first. My duty was to hold the sponge or "cone" +of ether to the face of the soldier who was to be operated on, and to +stand there and see the surgeons cut and saw legs and arms as if they were +cutting up swine or sheep, was an ordeal I never wish to go through again. +At intervals, when the pile became large, I was obliged to take a load of +legs or arms and place them in a trench near by for burial. I could only +stand this one day, and after that I shirked all guard duty. The monotony, +the routine of life, in front of Petersburg, was becoming distasteful to +me. I had stolen everything I could. My district or territory had given +out, so the next day I started for the front to bid my brother good-bye. + +Our regiment was sometimes relieved and ordered to the rear for rest; so +it was on this occasion, they had fallen back and halted in a little +ravine. I met my brother, who always expected me to bring him some stolen +sweets or goodies of some kind, but unfortunately this time I came +empty-handed. I had failed to find anything to steal. I was hungry myself, +but when I looked at him I forgot my own hunger, for such a forlorn +appearance as he presented almost broke my heart, and I determined to find +him something to eat at all hazards. So off I started on an independent +foraging expedition. I had only gone a short distance when I espied a "pie +wagon." Usually when the paymaster was around there would be "hucksters" +or peddlers with all kinds of commodities following in his wake. This +fellow had driven to the front from City Point. They were generally +dare-devils, and this one was no exception to the rule. He had driven +right up to the front, unhitched his horse and began selling hot mince +pies. He had some kind of a stove and outfit in an old covered wagon where +he made the pies quickly and sold them hot for one dollar apiece; the pies +were about the size of a saucer. When I reached the wagon there was quite +a crowd around him; some were buying and eating them as if they were good, +while others stood looking on wistfully watching their comrades who were +fortunate enough to have the price. I was one of the unfortunates. I could +smell the cooking of the pies long before I reached the wagon, and this +only served to increase my already ravenous hunger; but all I could do +was to stand there with my hands in my pockets, smack my lips and imagine +what they tasted like--the longer I staid the better they tasted. I +believe I would have given five hundred dollars for one if I had possessed +the money, but I didn't have a cent; our regiment had not been paid. All +this time I was thinking of my poor brother, how he would like one of +those hot pies, and I began to concoct schemes how to get one. The way I +worked the old sanitary man would never do to try on this fellow, for he +was a "fakir" by birth, occupation and inclination. The fellow was doing a +lively business. "Here you are! Nice hot pies, fresh baked, right from the +oven! Walk up lively here. Only one dollar apiece! There's only a few of +them left, and I shan't be here again for a month; walk up with your +dollar! Get off that wheel, you young devil!" I had climbed up on the +wheel to make observations and see if I couldn't sneak a pie, but he was +watching and detected my motive; so down I got and stood gaping at him, my +mouth wide open; but my hungry look had no effect on him, he had no +sympathy for anything except dollars. Finally I thought my brother might +have a dollar, so back to him I ran, told him of the pies, but he had not +a cent. The knowledge of the pies added two fold to his hunger. "Gosh!" he +said, "ain't there some way? Can't you steal one?" "No," I said, "I have +tried that. I would have made his horse run away and upset his wagon, but +the darned cuss had unhitched him." + + +[Illustration] + + +"Ge!" I exclaimed, "I have it." And off I started. Charley, my brother, +owned an old-fashioned silver watch, one of those old "English levers." He +thought a great deal of it as a keep-sake and always gave it to me to keep +when he was going into action. I had this watch now, and made up my mind I +would trade it to the "fakir" and get a lot of pies for us all. Oh! such +bright anticipations of hot mince pies. I could almost see them floating +in the air as big as cart wheels, and fearing they would all be sold +before I could reach the wagon, I ran as hard as I could. The crowd had +thinned out and so had the pies. "How many have you got left?" I eagerly +asked. "Oh, plenty," he replied; "how many, do you want?" "Well," I said, +nearly out of breath, "I haven't any money, but I want all you have, and +I'll trade you a nice watch for them." + +"Say, cully! what yer givin' me? I don't want no watch. Let's see it." + +I quickly passed it up to him, and stood working my fingers and feet +impatiently and revolving in my mind how many pies he would give me and +how I would manage to carry them back, when he broke out into a loud, +contemptuous laugh, and passed the watch back. + +"Say, young fellow, that aint no good. I'd rather have a blacking box than +that thing." + +"It's silver," I replied. + +"That don't make no difference. I'll give you one pie for the thing if you +want it, see!" + +I turned the watch over and over in my hand, my feelings hurt and my +stomach disappointed. Then I thought of my brother, forgot that it was his +high-priced time-piece, and quickly said: + +"Give me the pie and take the watch." + +He did so, and away I started on the dead run, I could hardly resist the +temptation of biting the pie; but just before I reached the regiment, and +in full sight of my brother, I stumbled and fell, smashing the pie into +the dirt and mud. I picked myself up, looked at the crushed pie, and the +tears started in my eyes; but only for a moment. I brushed them away, +gathered up the pieces and hurried to my brother. We rubbed the mud from +the pieces the best we could, and devoured them with a hearty relish. +After the pie was gone, I regretted the bargain that I had made. Pie and +watch both gone. Remorse took possession of me. I felt guilty; I was +conscience-stricken. I was unsatisfied; no more time, no more pie. + +"Gosh, that pie was good, wasn't it, 'Pod'?" This was a nickname my +brother was pleased to call me by. + +"Jinks, I wish you had brought more. Why didn't you try and get two?" + +"Well," I said, faltering, "you--you see, I--I didn't have time enough." + +"Well, how did you get it, anyway?" + +"Oh! I got it on tick." And then I walked over to a stump, thinking I +would get away from his questions and all the time revolving in my mind +whether I should tell him the truth, or say I had lost it. I felt ashamed +of myself and thought what a darned fool I was. I concluded I wasn't a bit +smart--the idea of giving a watch for a pie! Finally, Charley came over to +me. + +"What time is it, Pod?" + +"I--I don't know!" + +"Why, ain't the watch going?" + +"Yes-s. No, it's gone." + +"Gone! What do you mean?" And then divining the truth, he exclaimed: +"Gor-ram it, did you sell the watch for that pie?" + +"Yes, Charley, I did, but I couldn't help it; I knew you wanted the pie so +bad." + +"Gor-rammed little fool; didn't you know better than that?" + +Then I saw the great big tears come into his eyes, and I couldn't stand +it. I patted him on the back and said: "Never mind, Charley. I'll go and +get the watch back if I have to kill the pie man." So off I started on the +dead run, caught the fellow just as he was ready to go. I asked him if I +could ride to the rear with him. He answered, "Yes, and you can show me +how to get into that turnip watch." So I climbed on to the seat beside him +and we started. I took the watch apart, showed him how it was wound, set +and regulated it, and was about to hand it back to him, when a shell burst +a short way from us, which frightened his horse so that he cramped the +wagon and upset it, and in the confusion I got lost with the watch. On the +next day I gave it to my brother and told him how I had obtained it. He +laughed at me, and said he "guess I'd better keep it myself," and so put +it in his pocket. That night the regiment went into action, and my brother +was slightly wounded several times. One shot would have proved fatal, but +the watch received the bullet and the wound proved fatal only to the +watch; it was smashed all to pieces. But my brother prizes the pieces now +more than he ever did the whole watch. + +The next day my regiment was ordered to the front again. I made up my mind +I would not go with them. I concluded I needed rest in order to +recuperate, so when the regiment started I bade my brother good-bye, gave +him a parting kiss and God's blessings, so off I started. + +About a half a mile from my regiment I came to one of those Virginia +fences, got up on top of it, and sat thinking, and while sitting there the +shells began to fly pretty thick. I thought I had better be moving, jumped +down, and as I did so a shell struck one of the rails of the fence. A +piece of the rail struck me and was harder than I was, for when I came to +my senses I found I was in the hospital. I didn't think I was hurt very +badly, but when I tried to get up, found I couldn't. From there they moved +me to "Balfour Hospital" at Portsmouth, Virginia. I never will forget the +shame and mortification I felt at the sight I must have presented when the +boat that conveyed us to Portsmouth arrived. + +An old negro came to my bunk and took me on his back, and with a boot in +each hand dangling over his shoulder he carried me pickaback through the +streets to the hospital, a large, fine building, formerly the "Balfour +Hotel," and converted into a hospital after Portsmouth was captured. They +took me up stairs into what was formerly the dining-room but now filled +with over two hundred little iron beds, and each bed occupied by a wounded +soldier. Everything in and about the place was as neat as wax. They +carried me to a vacant bed near the center of the room, and I noticed the +next bed to mine had several tin dishes hanging over it, suspended from +the ceiling. These were filled with water, and from a small hole punctured +in the bottom the water would slowly but constantly drip upon some poor +fellow's wound to keep it moist. I had just sat down on the side of my +bed, when I was startled by the sound of a familiar voice. "Hello, cully! +What you been doin', playing with one of those d--d shells, too?" + +No, I replied, the shells were playing with me. Then I recognized the +occupant of the next bed as my drummer boy acquaintance who had his hands +blown off a week ago. What a strange thing that we should be brought +together side by side again, both wounded with a shell and nearly on the +same spot. + +He had changed wonderfully; his little white pinched face told too plainly +the suffering he had endured. I asked him how he was getting along. + +"Oh I'm getting along pretty d--d fast. I guess I'll croak in a few days." + +"Oh you musn't talk that way, you'll be all right in a little while." + +"Oh, no, cully, I know better. I'm a goner; I know it. I don't want to +live, anyhow. What in h--l is the good of a man without hands?" Then +turning his bandaged head towards me, his eyes filling with tears. "I aint +afraid to die, cul., but I would like to see my old mother first. Do you +think I will?" + +Oh, yes, I said, no doubt of it; at the same time I felt that his days +were numbered, but I wanted to make him feel as comfortable as possible. +He was so much worse off than I, that I forgot my own injuries and was +eager to assist him all I could. After a few minutes silence-- + +"Say, cully, reach under my pillow and find a little book there; it's a +little Testament that my dear old mother gave me; read a little for me, +will you please? You'll find a place mother marked for me, read that, +please." + +I turned the leaves over till I found a little white ribbon pinned to a +leaf, marking the verse beginning, "Suffer little children to come unto +me." I started to read for him, but the tears filled my eyes. I had to +stop, and as I did so, I noticed he seemed very quiet. I glanced at him, +and the open, staring eyes and the rigid drawn features told me too +plainly that the little fellow was out of his sufferings:--he was dead! + + "Mother" was the countersign on his lips so thin, + And the sentry in heaven _must_ let him in. + +I remained here three weeks, finally got up and around and began to think +I had enough of soldier life. I had everything I wished for; some ladies +in the town--God bless them, I never will forget them--visited the +hospital occasionally, and they always took pains to bring me flowers or +goodies of some kind. (Pardon me, but somehow I was always a favorite with +ladies.) Well, after remaining there three or four weeks I concluded I +didn't want to go to the front, so I sat down and wrote a personal letter +to Secretary Stanton, told him who, how, and what I was, and asked him to +advise me what to do; if I should go to the front or home. Soon after, a +special order came back from him to have me transferred to the "2nd +Battalion Veteran Reserve Corps." + +Let me here state to those who do not understand; all soldiers who were +sick or wounded, unfit for field service were transferred to the Veteran +Reserve Corps, for the purpose of doing light guard duty in camp, or at +headquarters; they were divided into two battalions, 1st and 2nd. The 1st +battalion was supposed to be able to carry a musket for duty, while the +2nd battalion was composed of one-armed men or totally disabled soldiers, +and were supplied with a small sword; and thus I was condemned by special +order; however I liked it. I had an easy time, nothing to do, and others +to help me. + +I continued here for about two months, until the hospital was ordered to +be removed to Old Point Comfort. I had become a great favorite of +Lieutenant Russell, the officer in charge of the hospital, and a nice man +he was. When the order came to move, the fixtures, furniture, in fact +everything in and about the building was ordered to be sold. I was +detailed by Lieutenant Russell to remain behind and superintend the sale +of the stuff, keep accounts, make a report when all was sold, and turn +over the proceeds. That detained me there two weeks longer. I sold the +beds, dishes, tables, everything. There remained about thirty tons of coal +in the yard to be disposed of. I sold it in any quantity to poor people; +took any price for it I could get, the same as everything else. Finally, +everything was sold off, and I was ready to depart the next day for Old +Point Comfort. In the evening, the two men I had with me and myself, used +to get our pipes and sit in front of the office and smoke. We were sitting +there talking about the sale, when it occurred to me that I had overlooked +the "deadhouse." We went back to it and found seven coffins. What was to +be done; they must be sold, as they must be accounted for, and we were +going to depart early in the morning. The street was crowded at that time +in the evening, so I took the coffins and stood them up on the sidewalk, +and everyone that passed by, I would ask him if he wanted to buy a +coffin. Finally, I struck a man who offered me seven dollars for the lot, +and I took it quick. I learned afterward he was an undertaker. + +The next day I landed and reported to headquarters at Fortress Monroe. A +day or two after, Lieutenant Russell sent for me; he wanted a foreman in +the Government Printing Office. I was down for occupation on the pay-roll +as a printer. He asked me if I understood the business. I said yes, I had +some knowledge of it, so I was detailed with an extra eight dollars per +month. I took charge of the office at once. The first day I had orders to +print fifty thousand official envelopes. The press-boy brought me the +proof, I looked it over, and marked it correct; they were printed and sent +to headquarters. + +A few days after Lieutenant Russell sent for me to report at his office. I +didn't know what was up. Thought perhaps I was going to be sent to +Washington to take charge of the Government Printing Office there. As I +went in, the lieutenant turned to me with a quizzical smile on his face: + +"Young man, you told me you were a printer?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Did you 'O. K.' this job?" passing one of the envelopes he held in his +hand. + +"Yes sir," I answered. + +"Umph! Is it correct?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"It is, eh?" + +"Yes-s, sir." + +"Umph! how do you spell business?" + + +[Illustration: _Fortress Monroe where Jefferson Davis was Incarcerated._] + + +"B-u-i-s-n-e-ss," said I. + +"You do, eh?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well," said he in an imperative manner, "our government sees fit to +differ with you. You will go to your office and print fifty thousand more, +but see that you spell business right, and bring me the proof. The lot you +have printed we will send to Washington, and recommend that they be made +into a paper mache statue of yourself, and label it 'Buisness' or the only +government printer." + +I was a little chagrined at the mistake, but did not take it to heart; but +I was soon relieved by a man who was more careful in his spelling. A week +or so after leaving the printing office, I was sent to the fort to act as +a kind of a companion to the confederate president, Jefferson Davis. I was +instructed to walk and talk with him. I presume I was intended for a sort +of guard. Perhaps our government wished to make him feel as if he were not +under surveillance, and so placed one whose insignificant appearance would +put him at his ease. However, I found it a very agreeable occupation. One +of the most pleasant weeks I ever passed was with Mr. Jefferson Davis. He +was a most agreeable man to me. He gave me lots of good advice, and I +learned more from conversation with him about national affairs than I ever +expected to know; and if I ever become president I will avail myself of +the advice and teaching of that great man. He pointed out the right and +wrong paths for young men; urged me above all things to adhere strictly +to honesty and integrity; to follow these two principles, and I would +succeed in business and become great and respected. I thanked him for his +kind advice, and pressed his hand good-bye. "Good-bye, my boy," said he. +"You have been a comfort to me in my loneliness and sorrow. God bless you, +my boy, God bless you!" A great, big something came up in my throat as I +turned and left him, and I have regretted all my life that I was not +fortunate enough to have the pleasure of meeting him again before he +passed away; for I assure you, indulgent readers and comrades, that no +matter what he had done, or what mistakes he had made, his memory will +always find a warm spot in the heart of that little Drummer Boy from +Maine. + +One day, soon after this I sauntered down to the steamboat landing and was +leisurly beguiling my time with a very large cigar. I noticed some +commotion in the harbor but paid more attention to the cigar than anything +else. Finally a large ocean steamer came in sight, rounded up near the +wharf and let go her anchor. Very soon a "cutter" was lowered manned with +sailors and pulled with steady stroke toward the wharf. While watching and +wondering what they were going to do with the soldiers which I saw the +vessel was loaded with, the "gig" or "cutter" neared the wharf, then I +noticed particularly the young officer who sat in the stern, he was very +dictatorial and pompous in his orders to the sailors, so much so that I +said to myself, that fellow is putting on lots of airs; he thinks he's +some pumpkins, I wish he'd fall overboard. + +They finally reached the foot of the stairs, which led to the wharf. The +young officer espied me and standing up in the boat shading his eyes with +his hand seemed carefully contemplating me. I wondered if it could be +possible that he had defined my wish and would have me arrested when he +landed; perhaps it was the cigar that attracted his attention. It was +against orders to smoke on the wharf, and such a big cigar in a boy's +mouth looked very much out of place, but I wasn't going to give it up, and +puffed more vigorously than ever. Just then the "cutter" touched the +stairs that led up to the wharf with a bump, and the young officer with +his handsome uniform turned a back-summersault overboard. It tickled me to +death; I sat down and laughed to see him floundering to reach the stairs. +I clapped my hands and cried, "Good, good!" He finally reached the stairs, +clambered up onto them, but they being very slippery from the slime left +by the ebbing tide, he lost his footing, his heels went into the air, and +down again headfirst he went into the ocean. I think he went clear to the +bottom, for when he came up he was covered over with sea grass and mud. I +laughed harder than before; everybody laughed, even the sailors, they +couldn't help it, and when they fished him out he was a sight! The starch +was out of his clothes, but not his pomposity. He roundly blamed the poor +sailors. I sang out: "It wasn't their fault; what are you blaming them +for?" He looked at me and shook his fist. "Well, it wasn't!" and I +thought to myself if I were they I would push him in again. I then made up +my mind I had better run, but I was so convulsed with laughter that I +couldn't move. Hurriedly but cautiously climbing the slippery stairs, he +made his way straight for me. I was still laughing, so hearty that my eyes +were dimmed with tears! but I still puffed away at the big cigar. He +looked at me for a moment, then hitting the cigar knocked it overboard, at +the same time exclaiming, "You're too young to smoke. What you laughing +at? Why don't you salute me? Discipline! I'll teach you discipline, +confound you," at the same time boxing my ears. "You 'gorramed' little +cuss, why don't you salute me?" At the word "Gorrame" I recovered myself, +looked up and recognized my brother; he had been promoted since I saw him, +had raised a full beard and was in command of a regiment on his way to New +Orleans and had run into Fortress Monroe for orders and hoping to find me. +I was more than pleased to see him, but wouldn't salute him until he had +soundly cuffed my ears and threatened to throw me into the water. + +When he was ready to depart he gave me a cigar and told me I could smoke +it after he had gone, but I didn't; just as he was getting into the +"cutter," I gave it to the Boatswain. I don't know, but I believe that +cigar was loaded. + +Soon after this episode, peace was declared, and the orders came to +discharge all soldiers and send them to their respective homes, and on the +30th day of June, 1865, the boy who had worked so hard to get mustered +into the service of Uncle Sam was discharged and mustered out. Then I went +home to my dear, anxious family. I was not all covered with glory and I +did not feel that I had saved my country, but was satisfied that I had not +killed anyone; satisfied that I had furnished some little comfort and good +cheer to my comrades during their hardships, and above all that I had +learned the glorious distinction of being entitled to wear one of those +little bronze buttons made from captured cannons and symbolic of the +G. A. R. + + +[Illustration: Fac-simile of a descriptive list belonging to Mr. Ulmer. +The original is six times larger and was plowed up with other documents by +an old negro on the battle field in front of Petersburg, twelve years +after the war. While Mr. Ulmer was playing an engagement at the theatre in +Norfolk, the negro presented himself with the document all in pieces. Mr. +Ulmer gave him $100 as a reward, had the pieces put together on parchment +and it is now in a good state of preservation. The document is certainly a +great relic; some portions of it are almost obliterated by mildew and +exposure. The supposition is that the officer who had it in his possession +was killed and the papers buried with him.] + + +Having spoken so often of my brother, some one may ask and wonder what +became of him. + +During the war our soldiers would often receive little useful articles, +such as stockings, shirts, etc., made by the ladies who formed themselves +into societies all over the country and furnished these things for +distribution among the soldiers at the front. The young ladies had a great +craze at that time of marking their names or initials upon whatever they +made. One day my brother received a pair of hand-knit stockings with a +little tag sewed on each of them, and written on the tags the letters +L. A. D., Islesboro, Maine. They were so acceptable at the time that he +declared that if he lived to get out of the army, he would be "gorramed" +if he didn't find the girl that built those stockings, and kiss her for +them. He began writing to Islesboro, making inquiries, and received +several letters signed "Tab." He was determined not to give it up, +however, and when mustered out, the first thing he did, was to go to +Islesboro, Maine, to find "Tab." He found her, she was a schoolma'm, and +soon after married her, and they are now living way out in Port Angeles in +the State of Washington happy as bugs in a rug, and every meal time you +can find several little "Tabs" around the table, some large enough to tell +the story of how Pa found Ma, and a great desire to try the same thing +themselves. + + * * * * * + +The unhappy war was over. The soldier boy returned. I arrived home at the +little farm, found a royal, loving welcome from my father and brothers, +and more than any other, my little step-sister, who never got tired of +stories of my experience. She would sit for hours, begging me to tell her +more. She was always with me wherever I would go. She was full of +admiration for me. I was a hero in her eyes; I could not dispel her fancy, +and I didn't try, for she seemed the sunshine of my life. She plodded with +me through all my ups and downs; through the snow and ice of winter, +making summer for me the year round, and she is now my little wife. + +I must stop here, or I may go too far into a history of my life, which I +did not intend. I know it would be uninteresting, but will simply add that +myself and wife adopted the stage as a profession, and still follow it. I +have just completed a play entitled, "The Volunteer" which I shall soon +submit for public approval. + + * * * * * + +My recollections are finished--for they are but recollections of a time +that "tried men's souls." In looking back o'er the path of life there is a +melancholy pleasure, to me, at least, in contemplating the shattered +shards of many an air built castle,--inhaling the perfumes of flowers long +since faded and dead. If these reflections have served to beguile one +moment of "ennui" for an idle reader--if they have recalled one incident +of "derring doe" to a whilesome comrade, I am satisfied that my purpose is +accomplished. + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CACTUS CREAM + +The Most Elegant and Delicate Preparation for the skin ever discovered. + + { FRECKLES, + { BLACKHEADS, + IT POSITIVELY REMOVES: { PIMPLES, + { MORPHEW, + { TAN, + +And all Blemishes of Cuticle. + +-- -- CACTUS CREAM Is used all over the world in preference to any other +preparation for the complexion. A beautiful effect is discernible after +the first application, and its continued use only increases the beauty of +the skin until an exquisite complexion is obtained. + +For Creating, Restoring, Preserving and Insuring Beauty, + +Nothing has ever been found one-half so effective and satisfactory as +Cactus Cream. By its use the roughest skin is made to rival the pure +radiant texture of Youthful Beauty. Redness, Pimples and Blotches are +quickly overcome by the healing and cooling properties of Cactus Cream, +and a satin-like smoothness of the skin of great beauty is soon acquired. + +Sunburn, Freckles and Tan removed by faithfully applying Cactus Cream. + +Applied to the Neck, Arms and Hands, it gives an appearance of Graceful +Rotundity, as well as Pearly Blooming Purity. + +Cactus Cream eradicates everything that mars the beauty of the complexion +and adds the tint of the lily. Gentlemen find it cool and refreshing when +used after shaving. All Barbers use it. + + FOR SALE BY DRUGGISTS, HAIR DRESSERS, Etc., + 25 CENTS PER BOTTLE, + + Prepaid by Mail to any Address. + + CHILES & CO., + SOLE MANUFACTURERS AND PROPRIETORS. + CHICAGO. + 718 CHAMBER OF COMMERCE. + + + + +WE COMMEND RICKSECKER'S PERFUMES. + +THE BEST MADE. + + "MARTHA WASHINGTON" + "FLORAL CHIMES" + "GOLDEN GATE" + "FLORIDA BREEZE" + "DAMASK ROSE" + "EDGEWOOD VIOLETS" + +ALL DRUGGISTS KEEP THESE PERFUMES, ASK FOR THEM AND TAKE NO OTHER. + + + + +Read This Carefully. + +When you arrive in Chicago, stop at the best hotel in the world, the + +"SHERMAN HOUSE" + +EVERY ROOM SPACIOUS AND ELEGANTLY FURNISHED! + +THE CUSINE IS UNEXCELLED! + +_Agreeable courteous clerks, attentive waiters, and meals served +without spoiling. In fact a hotel you feel at home in._ + +RATES: $3.00, $3.50, $4.00, $4.50 and $5.00. + +SPECIAL RATES TO THE THEATRICAL PROFESSION. + +CENTRAL LOCATION: COR. CLARK AND RANDOLPH STREETS. + +J. IRVING PEARCE, PROPRIETOR. + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Passages in italics are indicated by _underscore_. + +Unpaired quotation marks have been silently matched. + +The following misprints have been corrected: + "wont" corrected to "won't" (page 14) + "everbody" corrected to "everybody" (page 36) + "could'nt" corrected to "couldn't" (page 48) + "a lacrity" corrected to "alacrity" (page 56) + "the the" corrected to "the" (page 64) + "comotion" corrected to "commotion" (page 72) + "first" corrected to "fist" (page 74) + "Huriedly" corrected to "Hurriedly" (page 74) + "untill" corrected to "until" (page 74) + "n" corrected to "in" (image between pages 74 and 75) + "fe l" corrected to "feel" (advertisements) + +Other than the corrections listed above, printer's inconsistencies in +spelling, hyphenation, and apostrophe usage have been retained. + +Spelling/printing errors were corrected only if the same word was used +correctly elsewhere in the text. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Adventures and Reminiscences of a +Volunteer, by George T. Ulmer + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADVENTURES OF A VOLUNTEER *** + +***** This file should be named 32246.txt or 32246.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/2/4/32246/ + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/32246.zip b/32246.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..afcfca2 --- /dev/null +++ b/32246.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..68eb315 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #32246 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/32246) |
