Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 51, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 August 1891 — STORIES OF THE WAR [ARTICLE]

STORIES OF THE WAR

Told by Officers and Men Around a . Camp Fire. Cincinnati Gazette. The grand review at Washington was a thing of the past. We bad marched northward with Sherman Savannah, through the Oarolinas and Virginia. We were now encamped on Rock Creek, just outside of the capital. It had been a lovely day. not a cloud marring the sky, and we were enjoying the first “spare rest” after many a long month of campaigning. A gentle and refreshing breeze came from the west, supper nad been disposed of, no enemy was near, and the only sign of activity was the steady, monotenous tramp of the camp guard. The ifieft were gathered in groups about the camp fires, singing fta low tones, gossiping and smoking. -At brigade headquarters, before which a cheerful fire of confiscated fence rails was burning, a number of veteran officers were seated on camp Stools, cracker boxes and other improvised seatSi—iYo had “convened,” a 3 the invitation said, to sample a keg of “Old Crow,” just received by the Brigadier from his “Old Kentucky Home.” Junius Brutus, his colored factotum, had compounded a very seductive punch, and as the samples were passed around tongues wereToosened,-and stories, jokes and songs were the order of the hour. Holding his glass between his eye. and the firelight, Capt. W. said: “This amber fluid that makes one forget the cares and hardships of campaigning, reminds me of the only man in my regiment who never took a drink of intoxicating liquor. He was our chaplain. He not only never indulged, but in season and out never failed to score in unmeasured terms those who did. “One day while on the march, riding behindthe rqgiment, old Beasley, the quartermaster, by a well-known signal, let us know that he had become, in some unknown way, the possessor of a generous flask of good old Bourbon. The chaplain was in the party. We tried in every conceivable* way to ‘shako him,’ but he was deaf to all hints and suggestions. Old Beasley could stand it no longer, and solemuly drawing his flask, offered it to the dominie, saying, ‘Parson, you first.’ ‘I have no ure for the stuff, nor for any man who has.’ ‘All right,’ said the Q. M., ‘every man to his liking. Here’s to you, parson,’and the extract of corn gurgled as it passed down his seasoned throat. Smacking his lips, he said: ‘Do you read the Bible, parson?’ -Of course I do,’ said the indignant parson. With comical gravity, old Beasley spiked the Chaplain’s gun by saying: ‘So do I, and there is only one case in it where a man called for a drink of water, and he was in Hades.’ The chaplain, with a look of horror on his face, rode swiftly away, and we all took a drink, of course.” ~ “It was in the spring of 1863,” said Captain Joe R., “that our regiment, the 83d Illinois, as green a lot of country boys as ever marched from native prairies, left Cairo by boat and disembarked at Fort Doneison, garrisoning the works. The boys were just looking for a ‘mess of greens’ to cook with- their bacon, when some wag suggested that they could get a wagon-load half a mile away. Early next morning fifty men were cutting off the sprouts in an abandoned tobacco plantation. Never having seen a tobacco plant, not one of them recognized the weed, but .the greens looked nice, and soon every camp kettle contained the prime ele.raent of a boiled dinner. * * * * While the Coys were smarting over this practical joke plaved on them, a large force of Confederates put in an appearance and demanded the surrender of the garrison. Being invited to come on and ‘take’ what they wanted, they attempted to carry the*works by assault. “The verdant boys from Illinois proved to be ‘fighters from Fightsj town, and the attacking force was ; not only repulsed, but routed, leaving dead and wounded to be cared for by the Federals, exceeding in number that of the garrison. The next day I, then a lieutenant, was sent into the neighboring town of Dover to look after some of the stragglers whd were celebrating their victory by an old time ‘country hurrah.’ I found a party under the lead of a 6talwart Sergeant, all drunk, worrying and baiting an old Confederate farmet,who had driven in from the country in a ramshaekly old wagon, drawn by an aged and decrepit mule, hitched alongside a little red bull, by a nondescript rope harness. “The old man was eagerly Seeking news as to the fate of nis son, who was one of the attacking force the day before. ' Knowing that under such circumstances it was worse than useless for an officer wearing only the shoulder-straps of a second lieutenant to issue orders, I tried diplomacy. ‘Boys, ’ said I, don tbe hard oujthe old man. Suppose this fight had taken place in your county town and your poor old dad had come in to see how many limbs you had lost, or where your corpse had been planted, it would be pretty tough to nave any one teasing him/ “There was an immediate revolution in feeling. The boys commenced to pet the venerable Confederate. In maudlin tones of sympathy they pressed him to go to camp and get dinner, and all offered to escort him from hospital to graveyard in search of news. “He was surprised at the generous l supply of mess stores. ‘Who gives */ou-uns all these things?’ ‘Uncle Aam,’ vv the answer. ‘My I what a

.. . .... and salt! We aif\’t had only parched rye and salt dirt dug from the bottom of the smoke house';for nigh on to a year.’ “ ‘Put some coffee, salt and sowbelly into his wagon, boys,’ paid the repentantly generous Sergeant. “ ‘ls there anything else you want ?i old man?’ ' " r\ “ ‘Come to think on’t, my a(d woman said, “Pap, I want to make some ‘jeens,’ and if you can get some cotton keards in Dover, I’ll be obleeged.’” “Straightening himself up, the Sergeant, with drunken gravity, drawing from the pocket of his blouse a greasy and dirty pack of playing cards, said with many a hiccough: Y ‘“Take these, old man. Don’t know if they are cotton or not, but the old woman is welcome to ’em.' ” “Now that the war is over, and peace has spread her white wings over this broad land of ours, we will soon be mustered out,” said tbe General. “It is sad to recall familiar faces , and recollections of comrades tried and true, who do not return with us. They gave their lives for their country and now sit around their campfires on the other shore. “Do you remember young C. of the Ohio battery? “At Resaca he made the best shot with a cannon that I can recall during my four years’ service. “He was only a stripling of a boy, not over 20, and looking still younger. He was then a Lieutenant,commanding a section of two guns, attached to our brigade temporarily. As we stood in line we could see with our glasses a division of Confederate infantry advancing in line of battle; in front of the center the commanding; General, riding on the typical white horse, more often heard of in war than seen, as most prudent officers prefer more subdued colors. “The ground was hummocky, and the line would disappear entirely and then come into view again as they marched over the next rise, at that distance seemingly in as perfect order as if on review. I judge they were a mile,away when young C. ordered the gunners to try them with a shell. Shell after shell went shrieking on its mission of death. One passed over and another fell short, and the Confederates came steadily on. With each succeeding failure to plant a shell where it would do the most good, young C. became more and more excited. First he threw his cap on the ground, then his coat, and finally, jumping from his horse, he threw his suspenders from his shoulders, and amidst the laughter of all standing around he aimed the gun. The shell fired struck the ground and exploded directly beneath the white horse, and both he and his rider disappeared in the cloud of smoke and dust. The advancing column halted and was thrown into immediate confusion. Whether it was superior skill or a chance shot I never knew. PoorC., he was with us on ‘the march to the sea.’ Near Fort McAllister the column was halted by some obstruction in front. He and I rode forward to ascertain the cause. The first shot fired from a rebel battery commanding the road took off his head as neatly as a saber,” “At the siege of Nashvflie,” said Capt. H., “our gunners were much annoyed by Confederate sharpshooters posted in forest trees a long distance away. Being excellent marks - men, and using rifles with telescopic sights, they made spme surprisingly close shots. One day a staff officer rode up to the works, when a bullet from a concealed sharpshooter passed through his forage cap. He longed for revenge. Dismounting, he stood by one of the large guns, and waiting for the next little puff of smoke from an immense oak tree fully a mile awav, aimed at the smoke and pulled the lanyard. We thought no more of the incident until, on the defeat and retreat of Hood several days later, we, while In pursuit, marcbed by thA tree referred to, and some one glancing up saw the body of the sharpshooter lying in the branches near the top, completely cut in two by the cannon shot fired by Capt. X., who had been a distinguished artillery officer in the German army.” “Percy, what became of that fellow you had in your company of the 53d?” /“You mean Nye, the rascally forager or ‘pirooter,’ as he called himself, the champion liav of the corps? Well, he is alive yet, no doubt. His kind only die of old age. After his three years expired he re-enlisto'd in a new regiment, and I lost sight of him. I once heard him holding forth to a batch of new recruits or ‘fresh fish,’ as he.called them, who had but i'ust arrived in camp. ‘Boys,’ said te, ‘you see before you a man who received tbe most remarkable wound on record in the annals of army surgery and lived to tell the story. It happened at the capture of Fort Donfelson. i I was only a private soldier then as now, though if I had my dues I would command a brigade today. Gen. Grant said I carried more ‘sand’ in my make-up than any other man in the army. Whenever a charge was to be made or a forlorn hope led he didn’t call for a General or a Colonel. He io9t said, ‘Send for Bill Nye to lead,’ and not a thing would be done until I reported for duty. He wanted to carry the earthworks at Donelson by storm. As usual, Nye was sent for. Said the General, in a familiar way, for we were on the best of terms, ‘Can’t you do it, Bill?’ “Says I, ‘l’m the bully bov with a glass eye that’s equal to the occasion.’ “I took command of the forlorn hope, and shouted, ‘Forward, my bully boys; not a shot; give ’em the bayonetl’ The line sprang forward on a dead run, I leadin’ ’em on. Just

as we reached the foatofihe, earthworks, aminnie ball hit me right here between the eyes. It staggered me for the instant, but I never slackened up. I just put my hand to feel ?tb« wound, aft’ blame my sister’s cat il my brains hadn’t gushed out Just like meat out of an old sausage staffer. 1 shoved 'em back and tore off a 1 piece of cartridge paper, spit on it, and clapped it on the wound us 1 climed the slope. We went over the works and through the Rebs like a flash. Our victorious cheers were the agreed on signal for a general advance and Fort Donaldson was ours. I forgot all about the wound until that night as we sat around the fire, b’ilin of our coffee, when Serg. Jack says: ‘Bill, what yer doin’ with that piece o’ paper between yer blarqed ol’ eyes?’ ” “ ‘Oh!’ said I, ‘that was where I was wounded.’ ‘What with?’ says he. 'A minnie ball,’ says I. ‘Where’s the ball?’ asked the Sergent. ‘ln my brains,’ said I. An’ dog on youv fool heart if the wound hadn’t all healed up. Most wonderful wound on record! Full account, with diagrams, in the National Medical Museum at Washington. A job-lot sur- ~ S eon offered me $509 if I would let im saw my head open and find the ball. Offered to take my brains out, clean’em and put ’em back again, good as new, but my old grandmother wouldn’t allow it. She said I had all the brains there was in the family, an’ she wouldn’t risk havin’ ’em spiled.” “There goes the taps,” said the General, and Ihe bugles rang out on the clear air. , Pass around the groceries once more, Junius, as goodnight to all. ”