973,7
R2511
Reed, P. Fishe
Incidents of the War, or
The Romance and Realities
of Soldier Life
\
IIUMCJS HISTORICAL SURVEY
973,7
R2511
OF THE
WAR;
OR, THE
ROMANCE AND REALITIES
o,
SOLDIER LIFE.
3P. FISHE REE3D.
En!' rod :!rrm-<H;>; to Act of Congress, in the year 1802, by
.AS HER & CO.,
In the Cl"i-k - * Office of the District Court for the District, of Indian*.
UNIVERSJTY OF
ILLINOIS LIBRARY
AT URCAfMA-CHAMPAJGK
ILL HIST. SURVEY
PREFACE.
In all theannals of warfare there have been no battles more prolific of curious IB*
.Mont, and individual bravery and recklessness, than those of the present rebellion,
'leu of previously civil natures have become daring heroes, rushing into danger
regardless of consequences, and defying, to their very mouth, the murderous ma-
' bines that deal such terrible death npon them. A bursting shell, instead of
terror, produces a joke ; a bullet or a bayonet, more fun than fear.
Sparta, in her palmiest days of heroism, recorded no greater deeds of daring and
devotion, no more magnificent exploits or cooler bravery than have been exhibited
67 the soldiery of both armies of America. The Saracens, who, infatuated with
{he reverence of the terrible Crescent, swept thorough the eastern world -like..*
tornado, who went forth "conquering and to conquer," till even invulnerable
Rome trembled before that ominous Crescent, and the battle cry of " All^h il
Allah ;" nor the Crusaders, whose sacred Cross, in after years, sent terror into lha
Mohammedan ranks, could have shown a greater or truer devotion to the emblo^klj
.)f their power, than have the soldiers of the North for the Stars and Stripes, that
emblem their liberty.
Our soldiers, are brave, shrewd and reckless without parallel, and their deedi^?
like the cral traditions of ancient days, will bo preserved in the heart* of th
people forever ; and these instances of individual prowess and valor, that arc sel-
dom found in pages of more ponderous volumes, are eer the fire-side histories that
frll the true character of a people. To this end is this volume presented to th
Wblfc.
INCIDENTS OF SOLDIER LIFE.
THE VALOROUS FIFTY-SEVEN.
It having become necessary for Gener.al Bnrnside to he made
acquainted with the force and condition of the rebels at Fred-
ericksburg, and the surrounding country, he requested a reeon-
noissance to he made in that direction. In answer to this
demand, General Siirel selected his body guard, commanded by
Captain Dahlgren, with a portion of the 1st Indiana and the 3rd
Ohio Cavalry. It was a perilous undertaking, for to pass a
hundred horsemen through forty miles of the enemy's territory,
cross a larze and hridireless river, and dash into a town, which,
it was expected, the rebels occupied in force, was no delicate
operation; but it was one which the boys hailed as a holiday
excursion.
After leaving Gainesville they took a circuitous route, and rode
till night, when, after resting a few hours, they pushed on
towards the river, which they reached just at daybreak, and
there, upon the opposite bank stood Fredericksburg. Here they
met with a difficulty which had not been considered in the
scheme. When the Union troops evacuated the place, six months
before, they burned the bridge, and it had not been rebuilt.
The tide was full; so with a good deal of chagrin, and more
impatience, they were compelled to wait for the ebbing of the
tide. Making the best of their disappointment, they secreted
themselves in the woods, and held council. It was impossible
for them to remain concealed, in their present position, till night
should give them an opportunity to again move under the shelter
of its darkness, and it was equally impossible for thorn to cross
thr: river at flood-tide.
At last two of the Indianians volunteered to ride along the
river side and reconnoitre. Without being discovered, they
passed down the river till they were some distance below the
town, where they saw a ferryman on the opposite bank, and
g INCIDENTS OT
representing themselves as rebel officers, they ordered him to
row over. He immediately obeyed, but had no sooner got fairly
landed than he discovered his mistake, for he was made a pris-
oner, and compelled, by the severest threats, to give the scouts
such information as they desired, the most important of which
was that the town contained about six hundred armed men,
mostly dragoons.
When this news was reported to Captain Dahlgren his purpose
was fixed, and he determined, much as the enemy's force ex-
ceeded his own, to push boldly into the town. Luckily for them
they had not yet been discovered, and as soon as the tide was
sufficiently low, he took fifty -seven Indianians leaving the
Ohioans on the northern bank and crossed the river. Reach-
ing the opposite shore, they started at a slow trot, hoping to take
the town by surprise; but their movement had been discovered;
the alarm was spreading, and the town was all astir.
"And there was hurrying to and fro,
And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress,
And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago,"
were flushed with the security vouchsafed by six hundred chiv-
alrous Southrons. The enemy was already partly in the saddle,
and bewildered groups of horsemen were in every street.
Captain Dahlgren saw the danger attending the experiment,
but he was not to be intimidated. He determined to fall upon
them like a thunderbolt, and by thus increasing the confusion,
which he perceived, effect his purpose. As they neared the
town, he spoke a few encouraging words to his men, and then
they increased their trot into a quick gallop. Swifter and swifter
still they fly, and, whisking through the air like so many John
Gilpins, the gallant fifty-seven, with drawn sabres, cheers and
shouts, darted into the town, and recklessly rushed down the
main street. Here a squad of rebel horsemen were getting into
line, but, one terrific screech, a volley of pistolry, and one grand
flourish of sabres, and the terror stricken chivalry ingloriously
fled.
. Turning down a cross street, without abating their furious
gallop, the Captain and his sturdy followers came upon another
squad of rebel cavalry. These made a desperate resistance, and
for a short time the dire confusion of battle reigned supreme.
The trampling of hoofs, the clattering of scabbards, the sharp,
ringing clink of the sabres and the gory gashes that followed,
the pistol flash and rattle, the tumbling, struggling and groaning
of the horse and rider, the screaming of the women and chil-
dren, the cheering and hurrahing of the victors a short, sharp,
terrible contest, and the town was in the possession of the gal-
lant Fifty-seven.
SOLDIER
Once the rebels attempted to recover what they had lost; but
a repetition of northern valor scattered them, and effectuallj
drove them from the town.
The fruits of this strange victory were thirty-one prisoners, a
number of horses and accoutrements, sabres, arms, etc. Captain
Dahlgren held possession of the town for three hours, long
enough to convince the terrified inhabitants that they were not
to be injured, and then retired.
During this conflict the rebels lost twelve, while but one of the
Indianians fell. This one brave fellow fought desperately,
through the whole engagement, when, after it was over, seeing
a large rebel flag waving from a window, he secured it, and
wrapping it around his body, was returning to his company,
when a fatal shot was fired from a window by one of the citizens.
He was brought to the northern shore and buried by his sorrow-
ing companions, beneath the forest pines.
What a thrilling picture is this! The sweep like a whirlwind
the shout the rout the victory ! Victory, not for personal
glory, nor for ambition, but for a beloved country. The fabulous
fame of the Black Horse cavalry fades into insignificance at this
glorious achievement of these valorous fifty-seven sons of the
west. General Sigel was in ecstacies over this victory, and well
be might be, for no exploit of the war excels it, and it will go
down to history as one of the grandest on record.
MINGO, THE CONTRABAND.
Among the contrabands who were employed to \vork on the
famous canal, that was to effectually, and forever, cut off Yicks-
burgh from civilization and "the rest of mankind," was a mid-
dle-aged negro, by the name of Mingo. He had formerly be-
longed to a pious old rebel, who owned a plantation some miles
cast of Vicksburg. Mingo, one day, having obtained leave of
absence, came up to camp to review Uncle Sam's grand army,
and grander canal. While he was looking wonders at the oper-
ation of the picks and shovcla. he was accosted by one of the
guard :
"Well, Cuffee, what do you think of it?"
"Doesn't know, boss; couldn't tell what de dcbil massa Lin-
kum do wid dis big ditch "
"It's to bury the niggers in," replied the guard gravely.
"All ob um?" inquired Mingo, dilating his eyes to their ut-
most.
H INCIDENTS OF
"Yes," replied the guard, "every d n nigger iu the South i*
to be pitched in here, and covered up."
"What for dat?" said Mingo.
"Because the nigger is the cause of all this war, and as soon
as they are all out of the way, the war is over."
Mingo showed his white teeth, and replied:
"Spec's 1 doesn't bliebe dat, boss. If de niggas all killed off
de massas still hate de Yankee. Dey fight urn always, if dere
ain't no niggas. Spec's I know what dis ditch for, sah."
" Well, what do you think, Sainbo?" said the guard.
"Spec's massa Linkum can't get all his big boats by Vicks-
bnrg, an' he dig dis big ditch so he hab a river all to hisself.
My names not Sambo, sah; Mingo."
"Good for you, nigger. Would you like to be free, Mingo?'
said the guard.
" Spec's i would, boss, neber tried urn," replied Mingo mourn-
fully.
" Who's your master?"
'Dey calls him pious Purdy."
" Pious, is he?"
"Yes, sah, pious wid de white folks, but de berry debil inong
de ni<rgas, sah."
"How's that? Don't he give you plenty of work to do, and
plenty of liquor and licking, and all such like?"
"Yes, boss, plenty ob work, sure, and two licks to one licker."
"Well, Lincoln's goinir to set all the niggers free, shortly.
How would you like that?"
"Bress God! 1 likes dat."
"But you are free now, Mingo."
"How's dat, boss?" said the negro with a perplexed look,
"you's joking, boss."
"No siree. That's so. Don't you know that as soon as you
come into our lines you are free? We can't hold slaves in the
United States army.'
"Fore God, den. boss, I neber goes back to old pious Purdy,
gure," exclaimed Mingo earnestly. There seemed to be a new
light breaking in upon his mind. He grinned comically enough,
yet there was a good deal of solemnity in the grin, for he seemed
to con-sider it a very precarious affair, and deemed that liberty
was not to be obtained without some peril. The guard saw the
working of his mind, and asked him if he would not like to work
for Lincoln.
"Yes, boss." answered Mingo fervently, "I works for any-
body what keeps Massa Purdy away from me."
"Well," said the guard, authoritively, "jump into the ditch
and go to work, and come around Saturday night and get your
money. Pious Purdy can't get you here."
SOLDIER LIFE. 9
"Does you pay niggas to work, boss?" asked Mingo, with
some credulity.
"Of course we do: go to work."
Mingo needed no second invitation. He could scarcely rea-
lize the transmutation from slavery to freedom; but his bosom
swelled with the idea, vague though it was, of liberty, and he
sprang to the work with an alacrity he had never shown before.
Saturday night camp, and he sought for the guard who had
promised him the pay, but not finding him, he mentioned the
case to an officer, who laughed at him, and told him niggers did
not need money. They must first learn what to do with it; and
also added that until then liberty ought to he sufficient pay.
This was somewhat of a disappointment, but Mingo had treas-
ured up the sweet word liberty, and valued it, as a precious
morsel under his tongue, and the very word was sufficient to
cancel, at least, one week's labor. So he toiled on till the canal
was finished, and all hands were dismissed. He then felt sure
of obtaining his pity; but he conld find no one who could tell
him where to apply. For several days he hung around the
camp with the other contrabands, hoping to obtain, if not pay
for the past, some employment for the future, even though he
should get no other pay than liberty; but none offered him eveo
this.
At last the negroes became quite troublesome about camp,
and were driven across the lines. There was neither labor nor
liberty for them any longer. This was a severe blow to the un-
lucky Mingo, for he realized that he was in imminent danger of
being captured by his master, and asrain returned to that bond-
age from which he felt he had so luckily escaped. In his wand-
erings he again got within the Union lines, and coming across a
picket, was charged upon so furiously that he fled back to camp.
Here he was met with the kicks, cuffs and jeers of the soldiers,
till he was glad to make his escape. Again he encountered a
picket, and this time was driven past the lines into the territorj
of slavery.
"Fore God," he exclaimed, as the guard threatened to shoot
him, "liberty no great tings no how. De slabe gets much work
an' little vittels free nigga gets nothing. I knows what I does;
1 goes back to Massa Purdy, and be slabe again. Massa Purdy
gib um poor vittels; Massa Linkuni none. I's not had nary
bite dis yer four days. Debil take Linkum! I goes back to
massa."
Accordingly, full of this philosophy, and empty of the staff of
life, Miniro reported to his master, who ordered him some corn,
bread and fifty lashes, and then set him to work.
Piona Purdy was a vicious rebel, and consequently a party
of Union cavalry, who happened that way, took him prisoner,,
10 INCIDENTS 0V
confiscated his property, and freed his slaves. The most of
them were in ecstacies over their freedom; but Mingo had
learned better. He feared the worst, and his fears were not
groundless the worst came. After mature deliberation he de-
termined to go farther north.
After many days toilsome travel, during which he subsisted
on berries, he came to a point on the Mississippi, where he dis-
covered a company of soldiers. Not doubting they were Union
men, he at once threw himself on their mercy. But it was a
fatal mistake. They were a band of guerrillas, who immediately
took possession of the chattel, and set him to work as cook.
This was a happy situation for the starving Mingo, for he feasted
luxuriously. He was not badly treated, and began to chuckle
at his good fortune.
At this time the President's famous Emancipation Proclama-
tion was issued. This caused some uneasiness among the guer-
rillas. They had been traveling southward, and were now in
the neighborhood of Corinth. There they met a slave dealer
from Louisiana, and Mingo was sold, and soon transferred be-
yond the confines of liberty, and resold to a planter near Thiba-
deaux This master proved more cruel, even, than Pious Purdy,
and Mingo made up his mind that neither slavery nor freedom
was anything worth living for. But the vagaries of Fate are
past finding out A company of skirmishers from New Orleans
came upon this planter, took him prisoner, captured his cotton
and negroes, and Mingo was again a freeman in the Crescent
City.
During the skirmish at Thibadeaux, for the slaves were com-
pelled to fight, Mingo received a troublesome wound. While in
New Orleans he chanced to fall into the hands of a good-hearted
Vcrmonter, named Stone, a private in a Vermont retriment, who
took pitv enough on the poor contraband to minister somewhat
to his needs, which so attached him to his benefactor that Mingo
adopted him as his master, and followed him through weal and
woe, whenever he was allowed to do so. For sometime, after
Mingo recovered, he would steal out from the camp in the night
timo. and go to his new master, while he would be on guard
duty, and amuse him with the quaint story of his slave live; but
this lieinir discovered, he was forbidden this privilege.
One day Stone was detailed as one of a squad to guard some
prisoners, who had been captured. Mingo, always eager to fol-
low hi* master, in spite of danger, got an old musket, and fol-
lowed in the rear. These prisoners were confined in an old,
isolated stone building, that had been used as a store house, and
it was now truly full of old barrels and other rubbish, and
amontr this rubbish were secreted a lot of loaded muskets, which
the prisoners finding, they concluded to fight their way out to
SOLDIER LIME. JJ
liberty. They were a desperate set of fellows, and had been a
terror to the loyal neighborhoods which they had taken delight
to devastate. They expected death, and would rather risk their
lives with the guard, who had not a fourth their number, than
with the more fearful military powers at headquarters. Ac-
cordingly, when night came the prisoners burst through the
doors and windows, and rushed, yelling, upon the guard; but
they were prepared for them, for Mingo, out of curiosity to hear
what the prisoners might have to say, crept up to the building
and hid himself in some brushes under one of the windows, and
overhearing the plan, had informed his master. A terrible bat-
tle ensued, in which the contraband engaged with as much zeal
as the best of them. He used his musket and bayonet to good
advantage, being careful, always, to make his attack upon the
rear of any rebel that might be turned towards him. Twice^
however, during the melee, he saved his master's life, by throw^-
ing himself before him. The guard at last proved victorious,
and, though part of the prisoners escaped, the rest were secured.
During this action Stone showed such intrepidity and daring,
that he was promoted, but it did him little good, as he had re-
ceived a wound which so disabled him that he was unfit for
duty, and he subsequently received his discharge from the ser-
vice, and returned home. Mingo could not bear to leave his
master, and begged to follow him to his mountain home. Stone
consented, and Mingo is now a free man in the maple clad hills
of Vermont. But he sighs for his native land, and begs his
Master, that when the war is over, he will take him to work the
eotton and the cane, in a climate that has no ice and snow.
STUMPY, THE SCOUT.
A soldier in the convalescent hospital at Louisville, related to
the Surgeon the following bit of adventure:
Just before the battle of Corinth, 1 was detailed as one of a
email scouting party. We brushed it about for some hours
without seeing any thing worthy of note, and we began to think
that we should have to venture farther into the enemy's lines,
when, all of a sudden, our ears were saluted with the roar of a
score or two of rebel carbines. It^ was a company of cavalry,
numbering six to our one. One of our party was killed outright,
which was all the damage done, and that counted a good deal
with 4is, for he was a brave young follow from Indiana, who was
always in front when there was danger ahead. Poor George, he
looked so brave and defiant, even as he lay there dead!
|2 INCIDENTS OF
As soon as the rebels discharged their pieces the/ p<n.*.ced
upon us with their sabres. screaming like so many ilea.u.u, but
their yells did not intimidate us. We were used to such rebel
Biusic, and we joined in the chorus, and gave tiiem back good
base and treble for their wild tenor.
"Now. boys," sung out our Lieutenant, who ^as a joking sort
of a fellow, and as brave as a beetle, " it is *bout dinner time.
If you are hungry, just walk into them butternuts. Forward 1
and crank awayf '
There was no time for further orders, r.jr did we need any.
The rebels were coining down upon us like mad; but their car-
bines were empty, and ours were not Each of us discharged
fcis piece to the best advantage, and I'll vjnture to say that more
than one horse and rider parted company. Sabres now became
the order of the fight; and a terrible \innd to hand fight it was,
too. Our Lieutenant pitched upon a sturdy looking rebel, who
was more than his match. The conseq aence was that our leader
was wounded, and so disabled as to he unable to fight or give
Command. By this time we were entirely surrounded, and the
most of us, I guess, began to think 'it was time, either to surren-
der or make a break.
At this moment, as good luck we uld have it, one of the rebels,
Coming up behind me. aimed a bliw at my head. I saw it iu
season, and spurring my horse violently, he sprang forward just
in time to save me; but this forw.trd movement brought his tail
out in a straight line, and, unl.mkily for the poor horse, the
eabre came down upon his extended rear and cut it clean off
close up to the rump. He kicked up once, and then bounded
through the bristling sabres at .1 terrible rate, and took a bee
line direct for camp, which was v^ry satisfactory to me, as 1 had
no control of him.
This movement of mine, though accidental, seemed to be the
signal for the rest, and they made a like attempt to escape, but
Only one succeded, who followed close at my heels. Some dozen
Or so of the rebels followed us. hut our horses were the fleetest,
and we trained on them. Before I had gone two miles I met a
large company of our cavalry, who, having heard the firing,
were coming to our aid. I manaired to rein up my horse, and
tell them the state of affairs, but had no sooner done so than the
eqiiad of rebel horsemen who had been pursuing us, came sud-
denly round a grove of brush, and, before they were aware of
Our presence, plunged headlong into our midst. Of rourse they
were made prisoners, every one of them. I was detailed as one
of the guard to take charge of them, and I had the satisfaction
Of taking into camp the very fellow who had amputated my
horse's tail. The rest of the party then made hasty tracks for
SOLDTEB LIFE. Jjj
tborest of the rebel squad, which were soon found and captured,
and the whole posse of them were safe at the rear of our camp.
The boys laughed at the odd appearance of my horse, and
ever after called me "Stumpy." 1 did not feel very had about
it, for it was not the first engagement where the rebels have cut
off our rear.
My horse was not much injured by his loss, and in a short
time I was again out scouting. This time 1 was wounded and
taken prisoner, and after lying in the rebel's starving camp fot
ten weeks, during which time I had a turn of the bilious fever,
1 was at last exchanged, and, although with an unbeaten wound,
and reduced to a mere shadow, 1 was marched, two hundred
miles, into the Yankee nation.
It is a ticklish lite the scout leads.
A NAMELESS PASS AND A NAMELESS GENERAL.
While the Union troops were stationed at Nashville, a citizea
called at headquarters for a pass. The clerk wrote it all i
proper order, and gave it to the General for his signature. There
not being a table haady, the General placed the document ue
against the whitewashed wall, and wrote his name with a pencil.
The citizen left with his pass, but was much astonished and dis-
mayed when presenting it to the picket post, to find that his pass
had no signature. He knew that he had seen the General write
his name, and he could not imagine by what process of magie
his signature had disappeared; but apon returning to head-
quarters the mystery was solved. His chagrin was changed to
mirth, for there, upon the whitewashed wall, in suspiciously
shaky looking letters, was the name and title of the signer. The
joke was obvious. The General had probably been testing the
strength of a certain contraband article, and in consequence of
the obliquity of vision thereby occasioned, had written his namo
under the puss instead of upon it. In consequence of its being
the General's first offence, the name is withheld.
8;vdder results than this have resulted from a too free use of
Contraband brandy.
It may not be that this vice prevails to any great extent in th
Union army, but one can not help thinking that more bullets
anil less brandy would be more effectual in subduing the enemy,
unless the fiery liquid be distributed to the latter, for the same
purpose as the bullets.
74 INCIDENTS- or
EAR-BREADTH ESCAPES.
A German in the 35th Illinois mot with two very narrow
escapes in fifteen minutes, while General Cart's division wag
contending so vigorously against the enemy in Cross-Timber
Hollow. He wore ear-rings, for the benefit of his eyes, and a