Monday, January 18, 2016

Chapter 72


CHAPTER LXXII
During our stay at Bridgeport many little events transpired that would undoubtedly prove of interest to the boys as well as to the readers of the Tribune but space will not allot us to pub­lish all, we have therefore concluded to give publicity to but a few of the most important ones.
One afternoon in mid-winter a num­ber of Christian Commission men visited our camp and as was their custom entered a number of the tents, for the purpose of conversing with the men upon religious subjects.  When they entered company G’s street they were at­tracted to the “Bull’s Head,” a large tent occupied by Serg’t Riegel, his brother Jake, William Henninger and others.  Two parties were playing Eu­chre and were evidently having a very good time.
The gentlemen of the Commission came up to the tent, peeped in and were greeted by the following, sung out by several at the same time:
“Come in and look out and you will see more.”
In they came followed by as many of the members of the company as the tent would hold, crowding up the players to such an extent that they had hardly sufficient elbow room to shuffle and deal the cards, and consequently the game was broken up:
As the cards were being put away one of the men asked:
“What will you take for those cards my good fellow?”
“Two dollars, and not a darn continental cent less,” replied the Little one, who had been taking a hand along and who constituted himself chief spokesman for the occasion.
“Don’t you think that is pretty steep for them?” queried one of the Christian Commission men.
“Well, if it is, we did not ask you to buy them,” was the quick rejoinder made by the Little one.
After a little consultation amongst themselves they concluded, to pay the money asked for the cards.  So one of them reached into his pocket and drew out a two dollar bill and handed it over to Parks.
The Little one took the money and handed it over to one of the mess and remarked:
“Go to the Suttler’s and get two new packs, you can get them for $1.50 and then bring tobacco for the balance.”
The commission men were beat and they readily admitted the corn, and by way of getting even asked permission to offer up a prayer.
This permission was cheerfully given and when the men bowed their knees all present did the same.  Then followed one of the most earnest and impressive prayers that we think we ever heard, and which visibly affected all who heard it.  As the men left the tent W. S. Keller stepped up and offered to pay the two dollars back, but they refused to take it.
Thus the work they did had a wholesome effect upon the men and it was many a long day before the prayer which had been offered up in the “Bull’s Head” was entirely forgotten.
The following incident will serve to show to what manner of devices the boys resorted to accomplish various desirable objects.  For instance when laying in camp candles became a very desirable luxury as the amount issued was inadequate to supply the wants of the troops.
Upon the occasion referred to Wm. E. Fausnacht was on guard over some commissary stores, among which were fifty or sixty boxes of candles, and how to obtain possession of one was the all absorbing question with Fausty.  At last a brilliant idea entered his cranium, he would deceive the Sergeant, for be it remembered that whenever the Sergeant was relieved he was compelled to account for the number of boxes, barrels, &c., left in his charge and for which he had receipted to his predecessor, thus an accurate record was kept.
Will came to camp and searched all the tents until he found a candle-box that suited him, this he borrowed, took it to his tent and wrapped some chips in an old blouse, making it about as heavy as a box of candles, he placed it under his bed and then returned to where the guards were quartered.  At night before he went on post, he came to his tent and, wrapping the box up in a blanket, carried it near to the commissary stores and secreted it.  When he was placed on trick he had no trouble to exchange his box of chips for a box of candles.
After he was relieved he carried the box home and hid the dips between the lining of the quarters in which be messed.  He was not detected, but the strange part of it was that Billy Clark, our Regimental Commissary Sergeant drew that identical box of “candles.”  The way that Billy made the chips fly when he opened it and discovered the fraud was laughable in the extreme.
The men discovered where a number of cavalry saddles were stored, it was not long until every flap was cut off and the cobblers were doing business, and when the authorities discovered what had been done and a rumor was current that they intended to investigate the matter, the extra soles were ripped off without much ceremony.
One of the messes in the company was composed of Serg’t Schroyer, Ed. Fisher and John Haas, and many an amusing little episode grew out of the great delight Mike took in teasing old “Snapper,” as be had nicknamed Haas.
Upon one occasion while Haas was asleep Mike set the tent on fire, and as soon as the blaze struck up good be wakened up “Snapper” by yelling fire! in his ear.  John jumped up and began to use his hands to beat out the fire which was rapidly consuming the muslin roof.  Schroyer and Fisher having carefully removed their things, rushed­ into the fire with all the vim of veteran Philadelphia firemen, and pitched Haas’ things out into the company street in a jiffy.  This accomplished they turned their attention toward rescuing John.  Fisher took hold of him and the result was a scuffle in which, as usual, he came out second best.
John grabbed his bayonet and commenced to jab towards Schroyer, who said:          
“Everlasting Snapper, if you knew how long I let my fellows lay when I knock them down, you’d stop sticking that bayonet at me, here Ed. roll up my sleeves and spit on my hands until I drive back Snapper’s lower lip.”
This last sally had its desired effect, John commenced to gather up his old traps and the other two fixed up the quarters and by the time it was com­pleted John was ready to be teased again, a thing which Mike was ready to do as soon as an opportunity presented itself.
During our stay at Bridgeport we met old Mose Middleswarth, a son of Hon. Ner Middleswarth, and who was a member of a regular Battery which was attached to our Division.  Mose was well acquainted with the members of our company who came from the upper end and was consequently welcome in our company.  We got in the habit of calling out “Mose,” “Mose,” when ever we seen him coming, and towards the last the members of the regiment as well as the Brigade took up the cry whenever we started it.
Among the other persons that visit­ed us during the winter, with whom we had been previously acquainted, were Mike Breakbill, Jim Bergstresser, Aaron Jeffries, John Housewerth, John and Calvin Boon.  To say that we were glad to see them is not exagger­ating the facts a particle.
The native citizens of the portion of Alabama which we were stationed in, were doless, shiftless, long-haired critters, whose principle occupation, without regard to sex, consisted in the use of tobacco in every shape and form, children who were unable to ask for it could stretch out their tiny hands as soon as they would catch sight of the fine cut or smoking tobacco which our men used.  So habituated had they become to the use of the weed, that any thing which they possessed they would readily barter for coffee and tobacco.
A family consisting of six daughters by the name of Saxton, within our picket line, and whose house was visited by a large number of officers and privates, bore the christened surnames of Virginia Washington, South Carolina Calhoon, Kentucky Boone, Maryland Keys, Tennessee Polk and Alabama Montgomery.  A stranger group we never beheld and at the time we felt that they would compare favorably with the Berget girls whom we used to see driving to town with a two horse load of wood and smoking half-Spanish segars.
No person who has actually had the experience of passing through a section of country occupied by an army either hostile or friendly, can form no adequate conception of the demoralizing effect upon the inhabitants.  We feel confident that those who have had an opportunity to witness the scenes connected with the unwritten part of the late terrible war will join in with us in praying that no occasion for the calling together of a large army of men within our land will come again.

*     *     *     *     *
On the evening of the 18th of March we received marching orders and on the following day we broke camp and marched to Trenton, Ga., where we remained over night.  Next day we fell in and moved homeward over the mountain.  We evidently lost our way and General Geary rode up to where an old citizen was sitting in front of a little log house, and asked him, “at what point the road crossed the mountain leading to Bridgeport?”
The old man put his hand up to his lips and then to his ears, as much as to say, “I’m deaf and dumb.”
General Geary suspecting treachery, drew his sword from its scabbard and wielding it dexterously made it cut the air with a whirr brought it to a rest immediately above his head said in his stentorian voice:
“Tell me at once, or by the God in the heaven above us, I will, split your head open and pluck out your lying tongue!”
The old man gasped two or three times convulsively, but not a sound escaped his tightly compressed lips.  The General raised his sword at little higher and making preparations to strike the fatal blow, added very impressively:
“Your death is on your own hands and now may God Almighty have mercy on your poor soul.”
This was too much for the old fellow who fearing that General Geary wo’d probably put his threat into execution, fell upon his knees and addressed him in language similar to the following appeal:
“For God sake don’t kill me General, spare my poor life and I will tell you  anything you wish to know that  am informed about myself, only don’t kill me.”
“Get up!” was the stern command, “and whether I kill you or not depends upon the manner in which you answer my questions.”
“Oh, never fear but I’ll answer anything that I know,” said the poor old man, his knees knocking together for fear, in spite of his efforts to appear calm.
“When did you see the last rebel troops in this vicinity, and how strong were they?” asked the General who had sheathed his sword and assumed his wonted coolness.
“A body of Confederate cavalry about 500 strong, under command of my son, Col. Hickman, passed here about two hours ago, and that is why I did not wish to speak, and now you know the truth,” replied the old man.
“Which way did they move?” asked the General.
“My son said he would strike direct for Dalton via Rossville.” was the answer.
“Where does this road intersect the old mountain road?” the General next questioned the old man.
“Right beyond that large pine,” pointing down the road.
“Column forward” commanded the General, “and old man you will go with us and if your story about the old road is correct you can come back.”


No comments:

Post a Comment