THE 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS 
 
 OF 
 
 GEORGE C HARDING 
 
 INDIANAPOLIS : 
 
 CARLON & HOLLENBECK, PRINTERS AND BINDERS. 
 
 1882. 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1882, 
 BY JULIA C. HAKDING. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE, 
 
 PREFACE, . . . 1 
 
 BRIEF SKETCH OF His LIFE, . . . . 3 
 
 PENCIL NOTES OF A BRIEF TRIP TO MEXICO. 14 
 
 (In ten chapters.) 
 
 BIG SAM, . . . . . . . . . 123 
 
 JIM BALES DOG FIGHT, . . . . . - . . .130 
 
 MAN, CONSIDERED AS A CANDLE, 139 
 
 THE FEMALE SPIDER, . . ... . . . 144 
 
 A TRIBUTE TO A DAUGHTER, . . . . v . 148 
 
 BALES, HIMSELF, . . . . . . . . 152 
 
 MOON-STRUCK, ... . ... 160 
 
 DOGS THAT I HAVE KNOWN, . . . . . 166 
 
 DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA, . . . . . 177 
 
 SHIFTING SCENES FROM THE DRAMA OF THE LATE WAR, 190 
 ( In nineteen chapters.) 
 
 SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS, . . . . . . 338 
 
 M211163 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 AFTER the death of Mr. Harding, many of his friends ex 
 pressed a wish to have some memorial of him something that 
 would embalm the flashes of his humor, the nimble wit, the 
 delicate and covert satire of one who, for years, had worked 
 while others slept, until overtaken by that sleep which knows 
 no awakening here. After many doubts and much hesitation, 
 it was decided to publish his army and Mexican letters, and se 
 lections from such of his miscellaneous writings as were most 
 characteristic of him, and would best give an idea of the pe 
 culiar style and fervor of his genius. His army comrades were 
 especially desirous that his letters, which contained the only re 
 ally authentic account of the stormy events in which they had 
 taken so active a part, should be published, that justice might 
 be done to their valor, patriotism and endurance. A large 
 part of this volume is, therefore, devoted to this subject. His 
 Mexican Notes were widely read and appreciated, and are herein 
 published in response to many requests. The bulk of his mis 
 cellaneous writings was found to be so great as not to be compres 
 sible within the limits thus left for it, or, indeed, within a single 
 volume, and it was, therefore, determined to give only some of 
 the more striking. 
 
 Many knew him only as a framer of paragraphs, as a writer 
 
2 PREFACE. 
 
 of well rounded sentences, which "shot at folly as it flew," or 
 held a sting for those who conceived and propagated wrong. 
 These, in their very nature, were ephemeral, but it was thought 
 best to preserve a certain portion, that all might be satisfied. 
 To this labor of love has been added a conscientious endeavor 
 to do that alone, which he, had he been living, himself might 
 have approved. J. C. H. 
 
BRIEF SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 GEORGE CANADY HARDING was born near Knox- 
 ville, Tennessee, August 26, 1829. His father, 
 Jacob Harding, was a man of strong mental and 
 physical characteristics, which the son inherited. 
 His mother, whose maiden name was Love F. 
 Nelson, was the daughter of Hon. John R. Nel 
 son, a lawyer of high reputation in that region. 
 She was a woman of small stature, but great force 
 of character. George was the second child in a 
 family of thirteen. He was a quiet, silent boy, 
 given to long solitary rambles, and during his 
 childhood in Tennessee, and his early youth in 
 Illinois, spent much of his time in the woods. 
 He was familiar with the animate and inanimate 
 things of nature, the fauna and flora of that section 
 of country, and knew each individual of them, not 
 indeed, by the names given them in the books, but 
 by their more homely and familiar appellations. 
 He knew where the flowers first bloomed and the 
 berries first ripened. He knew the habits and 
 nesting places of the birds, the haunts and pecu 
 liarities of the animals, and even of the insects of 
 the region in which his rambles extended. He 
 became adept in woodcraft, and the use of the 
 
4 A BRIEF SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 rifle. He was entirely fearless, then and ever 
 after, whether his antagonist were beast or man, 
 or whatever his own weapon. His early habits 
 largely influenced his after life, and tended to 
 make him alert and wary, yet aggressive. When 
 he decided to strike he lost no time about it. The 
 blow was swift and terrible, neither the position, 
 equipment nor strength of his antagonist making 
 the least difference with him. He learned discre 
 tion in his later years, but his first impulse always 
 was to spring upon what he conceived to be a 
 wrong or an abuse, and throttle it then and there. 
 George had not reached his teens when his parents 
 removed to Paris, Illinois. His wild ways and 
 swarthy complexion gave him the sobriquet of 
 "The Cherokee," and soon after his arrival at 
 Paris he was compelled to thrash the entire male 
 portion of the school to which he was sent, in 
 order to vindicate his Anglo-Saxon pedigree. 
 This he did so thoroughly that ever thereafter in 
 "choosing sides" for any physical encounter the 
 side that secured "The Cherokee" considered 
 victory already in its grasp. His schooling, how 
 ever, was limited, and he lost much of the good he 
 might have secured, by his impatience of restraint 
 and contempt for the plodding methods of his 
 teachers. His intuitions were quick and he seem 
 ed to know more by instinct than he learned in the 
 books, and had ample time on his hands to devise 
 and execute mischief. He was, moreover, ambi 
 tious to assist his father, and having soon learned 
 all the school was likely to teach him, he turned 
 
A BRIEF SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 5 
 
 his attention to the serious business of getting a 
 living. Though only fourteen years of age, he 
 was large and strong, and accepted the best posi 
 tions that offered, laboring in the harvest field, the 
 brick yard, or wherever he could obtain work. 
 He soon tired of this, and abruptly left home, with 
 a neighbor lad, to make his fortune. He walked 
 all the way to St. Louis, but being out of money 
 and finding the labor market greatly overstocked, 
 he was easily persuaded to return home with a 
 neighbor, who happened to find him in the city 
 penniless and disheartened. Soon after his return 
 Judge Conrad, of Terre Haute, offered to take 
 him into the printing office where the Courier was 
 published, and make a printer of him. To one of 
 young Harding s genius, this settled his career. 
 From setting type to writing for the paper was an 
 easy and natural transition, and his articles always 
 secured attention if they did not carry conviction. 
 Isaac M. Brown, the veteran printer and editor, 
 taught him the art of printing and encouraged him 
 to write. After he had completed his trade, his 
 father abandoned the law and started the Prairie 
 Beacon, at Paris, and George left Terre Haute 
 to assist in the enterprise, and here his literary 
 career began in earnest. Beside writing for the 
 Beacon, he contributed to the Cincinnati " Great 
 West, " and other publications of that sort. His 
 writings then created quite a sensation by their 
 vigorous and incisive style and strong English. 
 Soon after this the Mexican war broke out ; he de 
 termined to enlist, but failed to get accepted. He 
 
O A BRIEF SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 then went to New Orleans on a flat boat, still de 
 termined to enlist, but returned to St. Louis with 
 out accomplishing his purpose. Here, however, 
 his desire was realized, and he enlisted in the Sec 
 ond Dragoons, but fell sick at Jefferson barracks, 
 and after lying at death s door for some weeks, was 
 discharged. His next experience in editorial life 
 was as editor and half proprietor of the Courier, 
 at Charleston, Illinois, in which he espoused the 
 cause of Republicanism in the infancy of that 
 party, and did great service in the exciting cam 
 paign of 1856. This paper was the first to suggest 
 the name of Fremont for the presidency. After 
 the campaign he withdrew from the Courier and 
 started the Ledger, which attained a large circula 
 tion at once, but owing to domestic trouble, Mr. 
 Harding soon disposed of it and went to Cincin 
 nati, where he was engaged for some months on 
 the Commercial. His love for change and excite 
 ment, however, soon took him South, and he next 
 appeared as associate editor of the Houston (Texas) 
 Telegraph, tri-weekly. This was just before the 
 outbreak of the civil war. Feeling that a conflict 
 was inevitable, and desiring to be on the right 
 side, he resigned his charge, and came North just 
 before the storm broke. He joined the Twenty- 
 first Indiana regiment (First Heavy Artillery), Col. 
 James W. McMillan, and went with it to Baltimore. 
 His letters to the Cincinnati Commercial attracted 
 much attention, and were largely instrumental in 
 having the regiment, possessing so able a corres 
 pondent, sent to the Gulf Department. His army 
 
A BRIEF SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 7 
 
 letters, which are printed in this volume, with very 
 slight abridgment, attracted great attention, and 
 furnished much valuable data for a history of the 
 war in that quarter. He was promoted from the 
 ranks to be Second Lieutenant, but soon after re 
 signed, and in 1864 took service on the New Or 
 leans Times. This lasted, however, but six months, 
 and he again came North, and after a short service 
 on the Cincinnati Commercial, came to Indianapo 
 lis, and entered upon his newspaper career here, 
 which, with one or two brief interruptions, when he 
 was employed upon papers in Louisville and St. 
 Louis, continued till his death a career which 
 though not uniformly successful in a pecuniary point 
 of view, made him a name and secured him a posi 
 tion of decided eminence in the newspaper world. 
 He was employed at different times and in various 
 capacities, upon the Daily Journal, the Daily Her 
 ald, (as the Sentinel was then called) on the Senti 
 nel under the Devlin and Bright administrations, 
 and again on the Morning and Evening Journal. 
 He started, first the Saturday Evening Mirror, in 
 company with Marshall G. Henry, which was af 
 terwards turned into a daily, and was finally sold 
 to the News. The Mirror made its mark while it 
 lived, but ambition to become a great daily killed 
 it. His next venture was the Saturday Herald, 
 which he made a great success, but internal dis 
 sensions, uncongenial relations with his associates, 
 and failing health, made the position uncomforta 
 ble, and he finally sold his interest in the paper 
 and went to Minnesota, hoping that a cessation 
 
A BRIEF SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 from stirring duties, and rest in a salubrious cli 
 mate, would restore his wonted vigor. His hope 
 was realized, but with returning health, the dull 
 routine of a country town became irksome, and he 
 longed to re-enter active life. With this object in 
 view, he returned to Indianapolis, and in company 
 with Mr. Charles Dennis, established the Saturday 
 Review. The paper at once attained remarkable 
 popularity and a large circulation. Old friends 
 rallied to his support, and new ones were made 
 with every issue. It was in the full tide of success, 
 and when his prospects never looked brighter, 
 that an accident, slight in itself but fatal in its re 
 sults, ended his career. An iron grating in a side 
 walk raised from below just as he was about to 
 step upon it to make way for some ladies to pass, 
 struck him on the leg, making a slight but painful 
 wound. He paid little attention to it at first, but 
 in a few days he was compelled to take his bed. 
 His wound rapidly grew worse ; blood poisoning 
 supervened, and he died in the maturity of his- 
 powers and at the height of his usefulness, on May 
 8, 1881. 
 
 Mr. Harding s ability as a newspaper writer was 
 of a high order. He used sturdy English in a style 
 noted more for strength than elegance, though 
 none could round a period with more grace. As 
 a paragrapher he had few superiors. He had a 
 rugged, incisive way of putting things that enabled 
 him to throw into a single terse sentence more 
 than the force of a labored editorial. He under 
 stood to a nicety the force of reiteration, and week 
 
A BRIEF SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 9 
 
 after week would make the same epigrammatic 
 statement, or ask the same exasperating question 
 in the same exasperating way, until the anticipa 
 tion of its repetition would become unbearable, and 
 quarter would be sued for on any terms. He was 
 master of the art of retraction, but was seldom 
 called upon to practice it more than once on the 
 same individual, the wrong-doer generally prefer 
 ring to take his punishment in silence, rather than 
 risk the "correction" he was likely to get if he 
 persisted in demanding it. He cared little for 
 consistency, and never let his record in any case 
 stand in the way of advocating what he at the time 
 believed to be right, or denouncing what he deem 
 ed to be wrong. He did not deal in fine phrases, 
 or say pretty things. His character was full of real 
 or apparent contradictions. While he was fearless 
 to the verge of recklessness, he was very gentle 
 to his friends, and keenly sensitive to their opin 
 ions, as well as to the opinion of the public. The 
 savage blows he dealt were aimed at abuses, and 
 only incidentally at individuals. Like all strong 
 characters, he was a good hater, but it was the 
 wrong and not the wrong-doer he hated. He had 
 no hypocrisy in his nature, and there was no diffi 
 culty in discovering his position on any question. 
 He was naturally of a trusting disposition, but bit 
 ter contact with the world made him suspicious of 
 men. To the opposite sex he was gallant and 
 courteous, and held all women to be sincere and 
 honest until proved to the contrary. What he had 
 of egotism was of the grand kind that was satis- 
 
IO A BRIEF SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 fied with itself, and he did not intrude it upon 
 others. His hatred of sham and pretense some 
 times made him intolerant, and his restiveness 
 under restraint sometimes carried him beyond the 
 lines of strict decorum. Those who knew him 
 only by his writings, invariably expressed aston 
 ishment on becoming acquainted with him, at the 
 gentleness of his nature. He did not seem to real 
 ize the tremendous force with which he dealt a 
 blow, and would meet his writhing victim with 
 a suavity that was more exasperating than the 
 attack. Many whose introduction to him was 
 a cruel thrust of his blade, if they came to demand 
 an apology, didn t get it, but with such a mild 
 mannered grace that they became his fast friends. 
 In the strength of his earlier years Mr. Har 
 ding seemed perfectly tireless, and would pursue a 
 wrong or an adversary with a persistence border 
 ing on ferocity. In those years his attitude was 
 that of a tiger ready for a spring. Time and sad 
 experience greatly softened his nature, and while 
 he still remained a dangerous foe, he was less 
 aggressive and slower to anger. He no longer 
 fought for the mere love of it, but wrote and acted 
 from a sense of responsibility resting upon him as 
 a public journalist. His last years were his best, 
 and there was more of conscience, dignity, and a 
 just appreciation of accountability for the use of his 
 talents than had been manifested in previous years. 
 His heart and pen were enlisted on the side of the 
 saving forces of society, and while he still hated 
 cant and hypocrisy with all the strength of his 
 
A BRIEF SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. II 
 
 nature, he was more tolerant of honest difference 
 of opinion. He was greatly respected by the 
 country press, and he did much to infuse into it 
 a manly spirit of emulation, if also of antagonism, 
 by example as well as by inducing a wholesome 
 fear of castigation. His capacity for work was 
 great, and all that he heard or read was retained 
 in such available shape as to be ready for use on 
 the instant. It is told of him, while he was an 
 attache of the New Orleans Times, that late one 
 night when the forms were ready for press, and 
 his associates, as well as the printers, had gone 
 home, he heard of a vessel just arrived from Cuba 
 with papers containing an account of a rebellion 
 in progress on the island. These papers were 
 printed in Spanish, and he knew little or nothing of 
 the language. No translator was to be had at that 
 hour of the night, but he secured the papers, 
 hunted up an Anglo-Spanish dictionary some 
 where, ordered the newspaper forms to be held 
 open for an hour, and in that short space of time 
 .succeeded in translating and putting in type him 
 self, a very accurate and readable account of the 
 affair, the Times being the only paper that had 
 any allusion to it next morning. 
 
 Mr. Harding was twice married. His first wife 
 was Miss Jennie Reeves, of Oberlin, Ohio, to 
 -whom he was married in 1856, and by whom he 
 had two children, both now dead. This marriage 
 was very unfortunate and unhappy, and ended in 
 divorce. His only daughter, Flora, inherited much 
 of her father s genius, and for a time assisted him 
 
12 A BRIEF SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 in his work. Her early death, and the circum 
 stances surrounding it, form one of the saddest 
 pictures in his life ; and his eulogy of her, and his 
 scathing denunciation of her betrayer, was at. 
 once the strongest and most pathetic of his writ 
 ings. His second marriage was to Miss Julia C. 
 Bannister, and took place in Cincinnati, in July, 
 1 86 1 . Five sons were born of this union, the eldest 
 of whom is now eighteen years of age. They bear 
 a strong family resemblance to their father, and it 
 is believed inherit his genius in a great degree. 
 
 Mr. Harding was domestic in his tastes, and 
 needed the quiet pleasures of home, though his- 
 busy and eventful life gave him little opportunity 
 to enjoy them. While he was strong in his affec 
 tions, he was not demonstrative, reticence being 
 one of the leading traits in his character. In per 
 sonal appearance he was always striking. Of 
 large physical dimensions, and erect bearing, he 
 was a man to attract attention. His complexion 
 was dark and his hair jet black. His eyes were 
 dark and very expressive, lighting up in the most 
 kindly and captivating manner, or burning like 
 fire brands in anger. His voice was low and pleas 
 ing. In his later years, when his hair and mus 
 tache became gray, the lines of his features more 
 sharply defined, and the contour of his grand head 
 was more plainly visible, he was a man to be singled 
 out in a crowd for distinguished appearance. 
 
 He had many enemies but more friends. He 
 was not always right, but a summing up of his 
 work will show a large balance on the right side. 
 
PENCIL NOTES 
 
 BRIEF TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE steamer was several days behind her regu 
 lar time of sailing. Some passengers had been 
 waiting and swearing for ten days at the hotels. 
 It was finally noised about that the chief engineer 
 was putting in a new "cross head," and it was 
 this which was detaining the steamer. None of us 
 had the slightest idea what a cross head was, but 
 it was learnedly discussed, and various wise 
 .opinions as to the danger of putting to sea with 
 a worm-eaten cross head indulged. Every day 
 some new arrival would make a pilgrimage to the 
 steamer landing near Jackson Square, seek an in 
 terview with the engineer, and ask as a particular 
 favor to be shown the new cross head, in order that 
 he might be enabled to judge, by ocular observa 
 tion, as to its capacity for resisting the heavy chop 
 
14 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 seas of the gulf. Poor Miller s life was made a 
 burden to frim. 
 
 The captain, the purser, the first and second of 
 ficer, the steward, the agent and the agent s clerks 
 and errand boys, who had in -turn all been bedev 
 iled to the very verge of distraction by the questions 
 and grumblings of delayed passengers, found in 
 Miller s cross head a capacious scape-goat, and 
 they took a diabolical pleasure in. referring all 
 grievances to him. Mr. Miller is a patient, sci 
 entific, long-suffering gentleman. While in the 
 blockade-running service during the late war, ply 
 ing between Nassau and Charleston, he invented a 
 smoke-burner, which enabled the blockade-runners 
 to use soft coal, and burn up the long trail which 
 would otherwise have enabled our cruisers to hunt 
 them down. He is the only man who ever success 
 fully crossed the gulf in the tempestuous month of 
 March with a wooden boiler. He speaks Spanish 
 like oil, and is in many respects a valuable acqui 
 sition to our merchant marine ; but that cross head 
 was too much for him. He stood it for five days 
 and then disappeared, and was seen no more until 
 the gangway was hoisted in previous to the ship s 
 sailing. On arrival at Tampico he was still further 
 infuriated by the pirate who commanded the lighter 
 La Fortuna, calling out to him as soon as he got 
 within hail, "Have you got that cross head all 
 right?" The fact that it was he who was keeping 
 the ship back with his new-fangled cross head, had 
 been telegraphed ahead by way of Matamoras. 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 15 
 
 New Orleans is pretty much as it used to be. It 
 is not quite so distinctive as before the war, and 
 much more so than before the collapse of the car 
 pet-bag system of organized robbery. Signs of 
 returning prosperity are apparent. There are also 
 innovations. The fashionable drinking and loaf 
 ing has moved further down (or up) in the neigh 
 borhood of the St. Charles Hotel, and the square 
 which includes the St. Charles Theater, "Mur 
 phy s," The "Phoenix," and other historic places, 
 no longer presents the gay appearance it did 
 twenty years ago. Indeed, it begins to look 
 shabby, if not positively low. But New Orleans 
 still presents the same show of handsome men and 
 ugly women ; the same big oysters, big tumblers 
 and frequent drinks ; the same free-and-easy dis 
 regard of fashion plates in masculine dress ; the 
 same singing, good-humored waves of people who 
 ebb and flow through the portals of the drinking 
 saloons, with no other apparent mission in life save 
 eating and drinking and smoking. The size of 
 the glasses is a marvel to a Northern man. It 
 makes him feel as if he were taking a drink out of 
 a churn, and until he acquires a little experience 
 he is apt to overgauge his nips. Your fiery South 
 ron scorns anything that looks like restriction in 
 his social horns, and as an indignant reaction 
 against the small, thin glasses of the northern 
 drinking house, has secured a vessel which ad 
 mits of a horn that would impoverish a feeble estab 
 lishment. Everybody drinks, and drinks early 
 and often. 
 
1 6 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 The " lunches " at the fashionable houses which 
 throng St. Charles street are in fact elaborate meals, 
 with soups, and roasts, and salads that would do 
 honor to the chef de cuisine of a Paris restaurant, and 
 clean plates and knives and forks for each course. 
 I try in vain to ascertain upon what solid basis all 
 this eating and drinking rests. The Texas trade 
 and the Red river trade have gone glimmering. 
 
 Of manufacturing there seems to be little or 
 nothing. I strolled around to the Cotton Ex 
 change, and detected a half hundred rosy-faced and 
 round-bellied gentlemen apparently engaged in 
 talking business, but their business was so fre 
 quently interrupted with adjournments to " Haw- 
 kins " that it was hard to determine whether busi 
 ness or brandy predominated. I wandered into 
 legislative halls in the old St. Louis Hotel, and lis 
 tened for a brief half hour to the monotonous drone 
 of legislation, which is the same yesterday, to-day 
 and forever in all localities. There were the same 
 pert clerks, with an insufferable air of knowing 
 things, and unmistakable indications of a propensity 
 to lobby; the same disposition on the part of the 
 members to loll and cock up their feet ; in short, 
 the same characteristics which sweeten the halls of 
 legislation in our own beloved Indiana. The col 
 ored brother is not quite so numerous as he used 
 to be, but still is an important factor in Louisiana 
 statesmanship. It amused me to see how quickly 
 the colored members had caught up the little tricks 
 and subterfuges of the average lawmaker, by 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 17 
 
 which he impresses the feeble-minded spectator 
 with an idea of his eternal vigilance. 
 
 For instance, the clerk was reading some stupid 
 resolution touching some trifling matter about 
 which nobody knew anything about which nobody 
 cared anything. A colored member, who had 
 been leaning back in his chair looking at the 
 ceiling through half-closed eyelids, and lazily 
 blowing smoke-wreaths from a half-consumed 
 cigar, pricks up his ears as the drone of the read 
 ing clerk s voice dies away, and rising asks for the 
 reading of the paper again, as he is not quite sure 
 that he has caught its exact meaning. The clerk 
 drones through the dreary document again, tele 
 scoping the words in a manner even more unintelli 
 gible than before, but the colored member is satis 
 fied, and relapses into his dreamy study of the ceil 
 ing and smoke-rings again. He has vindicated 
 his character as the Barking Watch-Dog of Greno- 
 uille parish. They can t secrete anything to the 
 detriment of his constituents in the bowels of an ap 
 parently harmless resolution without his digging it 
 out, you bet. I had seen the same thing done so 
 often in the riotous halls of our own dear defunct 
 State House, that I felt like embracing the Watch- 
 Dog. Lovely woman seems to be emerging from 
 her conservative chrysalis in New Orleans a fact 
 due to the contamination of northern influences. 
 Twenty-five years ago the intensely respectable 
 Creole element considered it equivalent to a loss of 
 reputation for a woman to be seen upon the streets 
 without an escort, even at mid-day. Now Canal 
 2 
 
1 8 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 street is constantly thronged with gay butterflies of 
 fashion, and even the Creole girl, with her fuller s- 
 earth complexion and her sombre dress, is allowed 
 to go out without a duenna or sheep-dog. (A 
 Creole is not a person of mixed blood, O, obstinate 
 reader ! but a native of Louisiana, born of foreign 
 parentage). Loafing about the St. Charles bar 
 room, I see the same faces and forms which orna 
 mented the locality twenty-seven years ago men 
 with long hair, greasy complexions, red noses, and 
 emitting that unmistakable aura which marks the 
 genteel Southern loafer. Certainly they are not 
 the same men. The men I knew then have long 
 since died of drink and smoke, but the type has 
 been perpetuated. In other quarters I find repre 
 sentatives of a still lower type of loaferclom, whose 
 appearance is very familiar. I could almost swear 
 that that forlorn loafer leaning against the lamp 
 post at the corner of Commercial Place and St. 
 Charles street, with the gray-bleached hat, dirty 
 ruffled shirt, and general air of limp slouchiness, is 
 Johnny Pie, but I know that Johnny died of yellow 
 fever a quarter of a century ago. This fellow is 
 lying in ambush for a drink, just as Johnny used 
 to, and the family resemblance is strong. And 
 that rotund, seedy little fellow who walks with a 
 jaunty assumption of a business air, and despite his 
 shabbiness is self-assertive to the extent of com 
 manding a degree of respect from the bar-keeper,, 
 who already has an antique score of great length 
 against him, is the exact counterpart of Banana 
 Dick, who went out with the liberating army of 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 19 
 
 Lopez, and had his cervical vertebras dislocated 
 by a twist of the Spanish garrote. 
 
 The cross-head is at last in ; Miller and the ship s 
 cat come aboard from their places of concealment ; 
 the passengers and their baggage are taken in ; the 
 gun fires, and the City of Mexico, swinging out 
 into the stream, points for the Southwest Pass, un 
 der a full head of steam. As she makes her way 
 down the river the passengers scrape acquaint 
 ance. Mr. Arnold Winholt, an English gentle 
 man who has seen the great wall of China, and 
 nearly everything else on the habitable globe that 
 is worth seeing, having stowed away his cork hat, 
 remembers having sat at the same table with us at 
 the St. Charles, and having by the attrition of 
 travel worn away the Englishman s insular preju 
 dices, falls an easy prey to our advances. He 
 apologizes for a slight indistinctness of enunciation 
 on account of a dental operation which Dr. West 
 had performed upon one of his front teeth. The 
 tooth had been imperfectly "stopped" by an En 
 glish bungler. Dr. West had persuaded him to 
 have it extracted, properly filled and replanted. 
 He was incredulous. The doctor piled Pelion upon 
 Ossa in the way of authority, and at last he con 
 sented. The operation had been performed sev 
 eral days previous, and the doctor had fastened 
 the tooth in its place with an apparatus which inter 
 fered with his talking. Everything seemed he 
 said it "in all humility," for he was a little super 
 stitious about premature boasting to be going on 
 well, and he had faith that the replanted tooth 
 
2O TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 would take firm root. American dentists, he said, 
 are confessedly the best dentists in the world, and 
 if Dr. West only saved his tooth he would consider 
 the ten pounds invested in the experiment as well 
 spent. The acquaintance thus made with this 
 accomplished English gentleman, who became our 
 companion through Mexico, proved invaluable to 
 us in the way of instruction a-nd amusement. On 
 the steamer we also found Dr. Harris, an Ameri 
 can dentist, who located in the City of Mexico 
 twenty-seven years ago, and his accomplished 
 daughter Anna, the two being on their return from 
 a visit to the States. We were indebted to them 
 for many kind offices. 
 
 Other people have been to sea and told about it. 
 All the glowing things have been said about the 
 waves, and illimitable vastness of a landscape 
 which embraces nothing but blue water and blue 
 sky. All the funny things have been said about 
 sea-sickness. Everybody has been told about the 
 fellow who for the first hour was in mortal fear 
 that the ship would go down, and in the next de- 
 spondingly feared that it wouldn t. I will forbear. 
 To me the sea is a great, big, disgusting fact, 
 without the relief of sea-sickness. If there is any 
 poetry in sailing the salt seas over, it is to be found 
 in a wind-jammer. A steamer is a hybrid subter 
 fuge a big, black, overgrown critter, which is 
 unable to stand up in a fair fight with the elements, 
 but holds steadily to its course by the aid of coal, 
 in spite of weather. The City of Mexico, the 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 21 
 
 oldest and smallest of the Alexandre line, is a 
 staunch little craft, with an undeserved reputation 
 as a high roller. It is true that occasionally an 
 unwary passenger, sitting on the bench behind the 
 lee railing, will have the seat of his pantaloons 
 treated to a cooling salt water bath, even when 
 the vessel is light and standing twenty feet out of 
 water ; but this is not much of a roll to an old 
 sailor. Captain Mclntosh is a thorough sailor and 
 a perfect gentleman withal. Evervbody put in 
 an appearance at the supper table just before we 
 crossed the bar. The next morning there was 
 plenty of room, and the waiters were not over 
 worked. It is a singular and exasperating fact 
 that aboard of all steamships the rule is five " eats " 
 a day, while sea-sickness generally keeps two- 
 thirds of the passengers from taking more than one 
 square meal between ports. To those who keep 
 up the various meals it seems to break the monot 
 ony of the day and help to speed the laggard 
 hours. Our voyage was uneventful in an extraordi 
 nary degree. There was a fair wind and gentle sea 
 for the most of the time, balmy weather and moon 
 light nights, which those who were not sea-sick 
 enjoyed by sitting on deck and watching the 
 wake of silver which the vessel left astern as she 
 plowed her way through the dark blue water. 
 
 Tampico was the first event. The ship anchored 
 six or eight miles out. Through a glass a few 
 church spires and domes of the city w r ere visible, 
 but the outlook was mostly a cheerless outline of 
 sandy coast with mountains in the distance and an 
 
22 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 angry surf breaking over the bar at the mouth of 
 the river. It is a disgusting fact that there is not a 
 decent harbor on the Atlantic coast of Mexico. 
 Ships anchor away off from the shore, and dis 
 charge their cargos in lighters. If a Norther is 
 blowing, and it generally is, the ship can t anchor, 
 but must cut for blue water again. So it frequently 
 happens that freight for Tampico and Tuxpan is 
 carried from New Orleans to Vera Cruz and back 
 a dozen times before it can be delivered. There 
 happened to be a good bar, and soon after we had 
 anchored, " La Fortuna," commanded by as fine a 
 looking pirate as ever scuttled a ship or cut a 
 throat, and another lighter were soon at our side, 
 receiving empty barrels to be returned with honey, 
 cases of wine and brandy, iron for crowbars to be 
 used in the mines, and other freight, while a number 
 of smaller boats, containing passengers, fruits, veg 
 etables, etc. , bobbed up and down at the ship s sides, 
 everybody chattering mixed Spanish and Indian. 
 Many of them shinned up the side of the vessel 
 and came aboard. One brown fellow, with a broad 
 foot, an immense vacant space between the big toe 
 and its nearest neighbor, and not much clothes on, 
 had a squeaking parrot which he w r as anxious to 
 dispose of for circo -pesos. Being told that it was 
 too much, he threw out a challenge for an offer. I 
 was on the point of offering him four bits, but for 
 bore for fear the infernal bird should be left on my 
 hands. It isn t safe to make any sort of an offer 
 to these seaport Mexicans unless you mean busi 
 ness. A monkey also came on board, but it was 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 23 
 
 not for sale, being intended " for the General." 
 There was a stinking wild cat in a box which fol 
 lowed us to the hotel at Vera Cruz, and in an 
 adjoining compartment accompanied us on the 
 railroad as far as Cordova. While the Fortuna 
 was taking in her cargo, and her pirate captain and 
 half-naked crew were all talking at once, I put in 
 an interested half hour in watching the process 
 of making an olla-podrida for the dinner of the 
 crew. The artist was a bright-eyed, active lad 
 of about ten years. An iron pot was simmering 
 over a small charcoal fire, built on a portable 
 hearth, and into this the little fellow dropped 
 at intervals potatoes, plantains with their skins 
 on, beans, shreds of cabbage, bits of pumpkin, 
 tomatoes, a few cloves, now and then an onion, 
 and a piece of garlic. The pot also contained 
 some bits of ragged meat, either sheep or ox. 
 The little fellow was very cleanly, and seemed 
 to take a lively interest in his work. He darted 
 in and out of the hatch hole, and every now and 
 then peeped into the pot to see that the requisite 
 degree of simmer was kept up without approach 
 ing a positive boil. 
 
 By and by it seemed to have progressed to a 
 point where it demanded the finishing touches. A 
 large pod of chile mulata, the mildest species of the 
 chile family, had been soaking in an earthen bowl 
 until it had colored the water a dark brown. The 
 young Soyer now took a half dozen cloves of gar 
 lic and a spoonful of the seeds of the chile mulata, 
 
24 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 put them in another dish, and with a stone pestle 
 ground them into a paste. Then he poured the con 
 tents of the other bowl into this one, thoroughly 
 mixed, and turned the mess into the steaming pot. 
 A few moments more of simmering and the podrida 
 was an accomplished fact. It looked good. An 
 intimation that we w r ould like to try it was cheer 
 fully responded to. A rope was lowered and a small 
 bucket of stuff was hoisted up. We all tasted, 
 and all pronounced it good. The bucket was 
 sent back with some silver pieces, which the 
 young monkey pocketed with a polite " mil gra- 
 cias senores." Several passengers, w r ho came off 
 in small boats, were hoisted on board in a chair. 
 The women hid their faces in making the giddy 
 ascent, and bit their lips hard to repress a shriek ; 
 the babies squalled loudly, and the boys kicked 
 and laughed in making the ascent. Leaving 
 Tampico the next morning (Sunday), we an 
 chored in front of Tuxpan. The scenery was 
 very much like that of Tampico an invisible town 
 in the distance, a river and an angry bar upon 
 w r hich the surf was lashing itself to fury. It was 
 a bad bar, and three lighters had gone ashore in 
 the effort to come off to the ship. The " Juanita" 
 (Litttle John) had succeeded in getting safely over 
 the bar, at the expense of a thorough drenching of 
 the crew, and lay alongside, where these unsophis 
 ticated children of nature drew off the drawers of 
 unbleached cotton, which was their only nether 
 garment, and calmly proceeded to wring the salt 
 water from their saturated shirts in the presence 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 25 
 
 of the " passenjaire," male and female after their 
 kind. While lying at Tuxpan, we first began to 
 hear of that winter terror of the gulf, the Norther. 
 A long, low bank of misty clouds gathered at the 
 horizon s edge, and soon we saw the natives, and 
 our own sailors pointing significantly at it. " What 
 is it," I inquired of Captain Mclntosh. "Only a 
 Norther coming," he replied. 
 
 As it happened we ran away from our Norther, 
 and for this once was spared the pleasure of its 
 company. In the night we passed close to the 
 wreck of the City of Havana, the most beautiful, 
 the swiftest and the finest vessel of the Alexandre 
 line, which was wrecked on one of the dreadful 
 coral reefs which make this coast so dangerous. 
 Capt. Phillips, a thorough seaman, and a sober, 
 careful, but over confident man, was steaming 
 along on a fine moonlight night, with the sea as 
 smooth as glass, when he met his fate. Shutting 
 up his glass, he said, "In an hour we will be in 
 Tuxpan." The words were scarcely out of his 
 mouth when his beautiful vessel was firmly im 
 bedded in the saw-teeth of the reef. He lost his 
 place, and shame and grief, it is said, have made 
 him a maniac. A little before daylight we are on 
 deck to catch the first glimpse of the lights of 
 Vera Cruz, one of which flashes forth its friendly 
 rays from the tower on the Castle of San Juan, 
 while the other shines from a church steeple in the 
 city. We go to bed, sleep a little, get up and find 
 our good ship rounding into the harbor between 
 the city and the castle. The sea is smooth, the 
 
26 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 sky blue, and the city of the True Cross lies be 
 fore us, tranquilly stinking in the sunshine, while 
 from the misty clouds that veil the mountain range 
 gleams the white grandeur of Orizaba s peak. 
 
 . 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 VERA CRUZ, from the steamer s anchorage under 
 the walls of the castle, a mile or more from shore, 
 presents an imposing appearance. (There is but 
 one more beautiful view of it to be had, and that 
 is from the stern of the homeward-bound steamer 
 as she goes out.) While the boats of the water 
 men are gathering about the vessel, their owners 
 clamoring for the honors and emoluments of safely 
 landing passengers and luggage on the mole, we 
 take a long look at the yellow, flat-roofed houses, 
 the quaint w^all which encloses the city proper, and 
 the glittering sand-hills in the rear. Dr. Harris, 
 who speaks Spanish as if he really enjoyed it, 
 chaffers with a bare-legged pirate, and finally en 
 gages him to take five of us ashore for fifty cents 
 a head. It \vas in the pirate s mind to ask two 
 dollars a head, but the doctor s fluent Spanish 
 " rattled" him, and he came down to hard-pan on 
 his first bid. The readiness with which it was ac 
 cepted has cast a gloom over his entire life. It 
 will be a matter of undying regret to him that he 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 27 
 
 didn t ask a dollar, even if he had to come down 
 to fifty cents. We descend the ship s ladder, 
 get into the "bota grande, " whose beauties our 
 pirate friend has so poetically eulogized, and are 
 rowed toward tfre shore. The "bota grande " is a 
 clumsy but rather stoutly-built craft, painted blue. 
 Its only claim to grandeur in its interior decora 
 tion is a strip of faded plush with which the stern 
 seat is cushioned. A smell of fish inspires the 
 suspicion that quite recently it has been engaged 
 in the pursuits which kept the apostles in bread 
 and oil previous to the time when they began 
 studying for the ministry. The mole is a wide 
 causeway of dark stone, which extends several 
 hundred feet out into the water. Stone stairways, 
 at intervals, lead down to the water s edge for the 
 convenience of the disembarking passenger. It 
 is an easy matter in this trifling sea, but at times 
 getting ashore is rather exciting to a person of 
 weak nerves. It is quiet enough now. A loafing 
 pelican, which seems to be a sort of harbor pet, 
 takes lazy little flights, and returns again to its fa 
 vorite foraging place. A half dozen semi-am 
 phibious boys, naked from the waist up, are bath 
 ing in the clear water, and the mole is thronged 
 with people. We slide smoothly through the 
 clutches of the custom-house officers, who 
 scarcely make a pretense of opening our modest 
 valises. Upon a demijohn of old Bourbon, taken 
 along for the purpose of making American resi 
 dents in Mexico homesick, is focused the suspic 
 ious gaze of the -pratico. "What is that?" he 
 
28 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 finally inquires. " Hypercoon, " replied Mr. P. 
 The official looked puzzled. He inquired its use, 
 and Mr. P. went through the motions of taking a 
 snifter. "For yourself?" he continued; "is it 
 good?" On being told that it was, the official 
 " smiled, " and told us to pass. He evidently has 
 a favorable opinion of the drinking capacity of 
 the average American citizen. 
 
 All the vexatious preliminaries settled, our bag 
 gage at the depot, we five sat down to a cheerful 
 breakfast in the capacious dining room of the Ho 
 tel Veracruzano. Said dining room was on the 
 ground floor, with the public bar in front. From 
 the rafters hang a score or more ol " Kingan s 
 Reliable" hams in their yellow covers, and we 
 are prouder than ever of Indianapolis enterprise. 
 Ham, however, is a luxury to which the regular 
 boarder at $2.50 per day must not aspire a waiter 
 who speaks fluent English volunteering the expla 
 nation that " hammy too high." We eat our 
 breakfast of soup, eggs, fish, various meats and 
 delicious fruits, with the strong black coffee of the 
 country, and pronounce it good. Our English 
 friend, who has a critical palate, detects the flavor 
 of the Spanish wine in the claret, but is too good- 
 humored to grumble. And then we go out to see 
 the town. 
 
 If one could trust his eyes, Vera Cruz is a 
 cleanly city. Its paved streets are swept every 
 night ; not a speck of dust is to be seen ; not a bit 
 of litter is to be found anywhere. This appear 
 ance of public cleanliness, coming as it does upon 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 29 
 
 the recollection of the horrible filth through which 
 our Indianapolis belles draggle their skirts, almost 
 convinces us that Vera Cruz has been foully slan 
 dered. But unfortunately at this moment the nose 
 comes in with a mass of rebutting testimony which 
 impeaches the credibility of the eyes. As before 
 stated, Vera Cruz is a walled town, w r ith bastion 
 forts at either extremity of the shore front. The 
 city was founded by the Spaniards in 1519, a short 
 distance from the present site, and called Villa 
 Rica de Vera Cruz the rich city of the true cross. 
 It was in a few years removed to the mouth of the 
 Antigua, and again removed to its present site in 
 1590. The wall is built of coral limestone, and is 
 six feet high, three feet thick, and pierced at inter 
 vals for musketry. The city contains about 10,000 
 population inside the walls, and probably as many 
 more outside. It has the massive, monotonous 
 architecture for which the Spaniards in their days 
 of manhood were noted heavy walls, stuccoed 
 with cement and stained yellow, pink or blue ; flat 
 roofs, paved with heavy square bricks, or tiles, and 
 windows heavily grated with iron, giving each 
 house the appearance of a combined fortress and 
 prison. In the city wall and walls of the houses, 
 in the pavements and loose stones, you find the 
 most beautiful formations of coral, and are duly 
 impressed with the industry of the amazing insect 
 which threw up these abominable reefs from the 
 bottom of the sea, and created abundant material 
 for the building of an entire city. Water from a 
 neighboring stream has been conveyed to the city 
 
3O TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 and has been plentifully distributed. Through the 
 center of many of the streets there runs a tiny 
 streamlet, which serves to convey the liquid slops 
 to the Gulf. The zafillotes (buzzards) are a com 
 mon feature of Mexican life in the hot lands. In 
 Vera Cruz they swarm like flies. The zapillote 
 is smaller than our buzzard, neat and trim in its 
 appearance, but nevertheless a buzzard of the 
 straitest sect. 
 
 They sit on the domes of the churches and the 
 roofs of the houses in black clouds, and wade in 
 the little streams of milky slop that trickle through 
 the streets, grubbing for such garbage as is avail 
 able for food. You have to almost kick them out 
 of the way. They turn their bright eyes on you as 
 you pass, and are quick to escape a threatening 
 gesture, though too lazy to get out of the way for 
 a mere feint. A garbage cart will be covered with 
 them until nothing of the cart or its contents is vis 
 ible all scrambling for the food to be found in the 
 mess. They vacate the cart when the driver 
 comes out of the house w r ith a fresh bucket of slop, 
 and take convenient position in the street, but no 
 sooner is his back turned than they mount again, 
 and renew their investigations. These buzzards- 
 are the scavengers of Vera Cruz, but, like all pub 
 lic servants, they find republics at times ungrate 
 ful. Just now a heavy fine protects them from in 
 jury or even insult, but it has not been long since 
 the ayuntamiento (I believe that is what they call 
 the honorable body which is analagous to our city 
 council) took it into their wise heads that the buz- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 3! 
 
 zards were a relic of barbarism, and offended the 
 aesthetic sense of the casual visitor. So they set a 
 price upon their heads a good round price at 
 that and they were slain by thousands. The 
 hunters brought them in by the .hundred, the 
 authorities paid the stipulated two reals per head 
 for them, and then the carcasses were carted down 
 and thrown into the Gulf. The boys, with an in 
 genuity worthy of a better cause, gathered them 
 up again, and continued to present them for re 
 demption as long as they were in a presentable 
 condition. They bankrupted the treasury, but 
 the city was pretty well cleared of buzzards. That 
 year it could be smelled as far out to sea as Lobos 
 island, and the yellow fever was worse than ever. 
 So the next change of administration restored the 
 buzzards to favor, and here they are. A one-legged 
 veteran of the ornithological St. Bartholomew 
 draws a pension. He hops about the streets with 
 agile grace, and is allowed privileges denied his 
 unmutilated brethren on account of his misfortune. 
 The fickleness of the Vera Cruz city government 
 is manifested in other matters than its buzzard 
 policy. The fate of the city wall often trembles in 
 the balance. In time of revolution the gates are 
 closed, and getting in and out is embarrassing. 
 Besides, many think that the wall makes the fever 
 worse by keeping off the winds. So there is every 
 now and then a movement to have it torn down. 
 The magnificent track of the railroad, built out in 
 the water at great expense for the purpose of facil 
 itating the discharge of merchandise from vessels,. 
 
32 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 is another monument of Mexican fickleness or per 
 fidy. The government calmly permitted the com 
 pany to build it, and then notified them that they 
 couldn t use it. The reason given is not a novel 
 one. We have heard it before, even in enlight 
 ened Columbia, the land of the free, etc. They 
 said it would take the bread out of the working- 
 men s mouths. It was the same argument that 
 was urged in the peanut war at Erie some twenty 
 years ago, when the proposed change of railroad 
 gauge to a uniform width, so as to avoid the delay 
 and expense of transfer, created a riot. It is also 
 the same argument which our workingmen em 
 ploy to discourage the employment of Chinamen. 
 Whether it is cheap steam or cheap human labor, 
 the principle is the same, and it is one that would 
 blindly resist every labor-saving invention. 
 
 Vera Cruz has its plaza, as has every other 
 Spanish town. It is a delightful little garden spot, 
 where you sit under the cocoa palms and listen to 
 the chatter of the daws, while the plash of the 
 fountain falls in gentle cadence on the ear. There 
 are beautiful flowers, pleasant seats, an atmos 
 phere that is almost sultry, strange sights and 
 sounds all around you, and everything to make 
 a realization of the fact that it is the middle of 
 January, almost impossible. The daws, or mag 
 pies, or whatever they are, interest me greatly. 
 At first they seem to be the crow blackbird of our 
 temperate zone, but closer investigation shows that 
 they are larger and glossier, and if any additional 
 evidence were needed, their voices are sufficient. 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 33 
 
 They occasionally emit the harsh " chack " of our 
 blackbird, but have an abundance of other tones, 
 clear and musical. They alight at your feet, turn 
 their bright eyes, almost human in their intelli 
 gence, on you, with a quizzical expression, as if 
 anxious to know what you are going to do about 
 it. These birds are carnivorous. They will steal 
 a mutton chop or beef bone, fly with it into a 
 neighboring tree, and tear it in fine style. Speak 
 ing of birds reminds me that there is not such a 
 thing as a devil-sling in all Mexico. Wherever I 
 have gone, birds of all kinds have manifested little 
 fear of man or boy. An American boy in the 
 plaza of Vera Cruz, armed with his favorite devil- 
 sling, would find it a paradise indeed. 
 
 Just across the way from the plaza is the Hotel 
 of the Diligences, a favorite loafing place for for 
 eigners and natives. They sit outside of the cafe, 
 under the portal, drinking coffee, cognac and selt 
 zer, or whatever they may choose, and smoking 
 the cigars of the country, which are very good and 
 very cheap. On each table is a little brazier with 
 lighted charcoal, for renewing the cigars. The 
 Latin races are generally poor drinkers. With 
 plenty of light wine, and a little eau sucre or cor 
 dial now and then, and an occasional thimble-full 
 of cognac, they can rub along. But Vera Cruz is 
 an exception to the rule. It would be considered 
 a hard-drinking city, even in the United States. 
 The glasses are a third larger even than those of 
 New Orleans. A short life and a merry one seems 
 to be the rule with the Veracruzanos, and the 
 
34 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 amount of tobacco they burn and brandy they de 
 stroy is a subject of wonderful remark all over 
 Mexico. There is little of the extreme poverty 
 which is visible in the interior. Yellow Jack pro 
 tects the people already acclimated from competi 
 tion. Annually, there comes from the interior a 
 few score of young men of all conditions, to make 
 their fortunes, and annually the bronze devil gath 
 ers them in. 
 
 As we sit in the plaza our English friend, who 
 has a mania for laying small wagers on quaint 
 events, proposes to bet that within five minutes 
 from a given time ten men will not pass between 
 the arches of the portal directly opposite before 
 one woman does. Mr. P. takes the bet. One, 
 two, three, five, eight men are scored, and it seems 
 that our English friend is booked to lose, when an 
 old woman, very drunk and very dirty, comes 
 staggering along and changes the prospect. The 
 odds are two to one in favor of " the Colonel, " as 
 we have dubbed our Englishman, when the woman 
 stops to look at some lottery tickets, and while she 
 is selecting a lucky number two swaggering sail 
 ors, arm in arm, pass under the arches, and the 
 Englishman loses. Mr. P. then proposes to bet 
 that ten women will pass between two arches of 
 the portal on the other side of the square before 
 five men do, but, as that road leads directly to the 
 cathedral, in which services are being held, the 
 colonel declines. 
 
 We finally fell into the tide of people that 
 seemed to be flowing into the cathedral, and en- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 35 
 
 tered that sacred structure. It was on the occa 
 sion of the bishop s visit, and Vera Cruz, which i& 
 not nearly so devout a city as its name would indi 
 cate, had turned out almost en masse to absorb re 
 ligion enough to tide it over the spring season. 
 Every fond mother, and they were of all colors and 
 conditions, many of them guiltless of the sacred 
 circlet which testifies to the legality of love, had 
 brought her infant to receive the rich boon of the 
 bishop s blessing. There were at least five hun 
 dred mothers, each with a squalling infant in her 
 arms, and some of them with two. For ear-split 
 ting shrillness and harshness I will pit the squall 
 of the Mexican olive-branch against any other 
 sound, vocal or mechanical, in the world, not ex 
 cepting the creak of an ungreased axle or the 
 matin song of that domestic warbler, the guinea 
 hen. They kicked and squalled, and the over 
 worked bishop dissolved in perspiration as he hur 
 ried through his arduous task. 
 
 A couple of brief letters were written in the pub 
 lic room of the hotel, and the colonel accompanied 
 me in a wild hunt for the post-office. A very col 
 ored individual was encountered on the street. 
 Here, I thought, is one man at least, in this fra 
 grant pandemonium of brandy, buzzards and bur 
 ros, who can speak English. But I slipped up on 
 it. Another colored man likewise failed us. Then 
 I happened to remember that scores of Cuban ne 
 groes had come over from Havana with their mas 
 ters in times past, and, learning that there was no 
 slavery in Mexico, had concluded to remain. 
 
36 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 They are black to glossiness, and look as if not 
 more than one generation stood between them and 
 the horrors of the middle passage. The colonel 
 spoke French, German and Italian fluently, but no 
 Spanish. One and another pedestrian was tried 
 with " Parlezvous Francaise? " varied with " Vous 
 parlez Francaise, monsieur," but all to no pur 
 pose. And then we tried to patch up a sentence 
 of such disjointed Spanish words as lingered in 
 our memory. ." Dondecs la"- . Here we stuck 
 fast. We could think of no Spanish word bearing 
 on the question of letters or stamps. "Post res- 
 tante " was tried, but without avail. Finally it 
 came to me "el correo." How and when I ac 
 quired it I know not. It seemed like inspiration. 
 As soon as they knew what we wanted they not 
 only manifested a willingness to direct us, but sent 
 a brown boy to show us the way. At the postof- 
 fice we first became acquainted with the delicious 
 deliberation with which public business is trans 
 acted in this delightful country. The postoffice 
 was enjoying its siesta, and was not to be disturbed. 
 At four o clock they would be ready to take our 
 letters. In civilized countries you can stamp a 
 letter, and send it to the office by a boy. Not so 
 in Mexico. The government prints stamps, it is 
 true, but they can only be affixed to a letter in the 
 presence of an official. Otherwise they are nil. 
 This requires the personal presence of the writer 
 every time a letter is mailed, or of his agent. 
 
 Having pretty thoroughly done the interior, I 
 straggled through one of the gates to have a look 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 37 
 
 at the extra-mural population. There is another 
 beautiful park just outside the gate through which 
 I emerged, with cocoanut trees, full of fruit, and 
 other curiosities to the Northern eye. There 
 was a stinking ditch, covered with lily pads, and 
 beyond lay the outer city. There are streets of 
 rude board, adobe and reed houses, populous with 
 babies, dogs, cocks, goats and vermin. It is alto 
 gether inferior in architecture and tone to the in 
 side city, but richer in smell, if possible. As I 
 thread my way through the streets in an aimless 
 sort of manner, "gawking" about, I become im 
 pressed with a Mexican trait which is remarkable 
 the almost entire absence of curiosity on the part 
 of the lower classes. Nobody gives me more than 
 a passing glance. Before a dark hovel, in one of 
 the worst quarters of the outside city, an Indian, 
 freighted like a pack-mule, has stopped for a mo 
 ment, and devoutly makes the sign of the cross as 
 I overtake him. I look inside, and see lighted 
 candles, weeping women and children, a dark, 
 scowling masculine face which seems to express a 
 rebellious defiance of fate, and a dying woman, 
 whom a priest is shriving. "What is it?" I ask 
 of the pack-mule in the best Spanish I can muster. 
 "j7 vomito!" I feel my hair bristling up, and a 
 cold chill runs down my spinal column. I don t 
 believe him, but, nevertheless, I saunter back to 
 ward the hotel, at the rate of about eleven miles 
 an hour, as Mark Twain expresses it. I had al 
 ways been told that yellow fever disappears, even 
 from Vera Cruz, when the Northers begin to blow 
 
38 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 in the fall. Nevertheless the remembrance of that 
 dying woman haunted me, and that night, as we 
 were taking a cup of delicious Cordova coffee at 
 the house of the American consul, Dr. Trow- 
 bridge, I asked him: "Any yellow fever in the 
 city, Doctor?" "Y-a-a-s," he replied, "a good 
 deal of it. Generally it disappears with the first 
 Norther, but this year it has staid with us a fact 
 which none of us can account for. But it is en 
 tirely confined to the lower classes." It is curious 
 to see how these old stagers, who have passed the 
 ordeal of Yellow Jack and slipped through his 
 clutches, snap their fingers in his face. They 
 whistle him down the wind. "Not a bit of dan 
 ger," says Dr. Trowbridge, "unless you get 
 scared. All the people who die of yellow fever 
 are frightened to death." " But, Doctor," I feebly 
 suggested, "how did the people get in the habit 
 of being scared." The doctor looks thought 
 fully at the ceiling a moment, and then intimates 
 that in his opinion I am "getting too durned in 
 quisitive." All of which reminds me of the French 
 turnkey s method of consoling the poor devil who 
 is being carted to the guillotine. " Courage, mon 
 brave," he says, slapping him on the shoulder; 
 " it is nothing as you will see." Yellow fever is 
 nothing to these fellows who have had it, and are 
 no longer eligible ; but to me it is a great deal, 
 and I begin to have an ardent longing for the at 
 mosphere of the interior. 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 39 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE public washing place of Vera Cruz is a 
 curious institution. Stone troughs, about three 
 feet high, extend around two sides of a large 
 square. These troughs are divided into compart 
 ments which look very much like stable mangers, 
 and each compartment in addition to the recepta 
 cle for the water is furnished with a- stone slab 
 upon which the linen is rubbed. Probably a hun 
 dred brown women, some of them young and 
 handsome, and others old enough and ugly enough 
 to have stirred Macbeth s hell-broth, were busily 
 engaged in rubbing, smoking and chattering as 
 we passed ; none of them gave us more than a 
 passing glance. Their costume was cool, by no 
 means burdensome, and admitted of a lavish ex 
 posure of bust, arm and ankle. The water is fur 
 nished by the city aqueduct, and each washer pays 
 a stipulated rent. On the whole, it is a great im 
 provement on the mode of washing as practiced in 
 the interior, to be hereafter described. Such of 
 the linen as was hung out to dry seemed to be de 
 lightfully white and clean, but the process, I under 
 stand, is rough on material and buttons. Leaving 
 the washery we came across an artesian well in 
 process of construction. Here we found a young 
 man from Evansville, by the name of Collins, 
 whose father had moved to Mexico twenty years 
 
40 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 ago. Although American born and educated, Mr. 
 Collins had lived so long and so exclusively among 
 Spanish-speaking people that his English had a 
 decidedly foreign accent. 
 
 The train for Mexico leaves at midnight. Tired 
 of sight-seeing, we inflicted our company on Dr. 
 Trowbridge, the American consul, for the even 
 ing. Here we met Mr. Foster, the American min 
 ister, on his way to Washington, who very kindly 
 gave us letters to his secretary, Mr. Richardson, 
 and other parties in the city of Mexico. Having 
 passed a very pleasant evening, we took up the 
 line of march for the depot, holding our noses 
 with one hand and our traveling-bags with the 
 other. Vera Cruz is self-assertive in daylight ; at 
 night she is overwhelming. At last, the prelimi 
 nary fussing and fuming, and baggage-weighing 
 and ticket-buying having been accomplished, we 
 are snugly ensconced in a compartment of the En 
 glish car, and the train moves out. 
 
 The first fifty miles of the road is through a 
 "chapparel" country, and by most persons the 
 scenery is considered dreary and tiresome. It in 
 terested me, however, almost as much as the sub 
 lime mountain views further on. I didn t see 
 much of it going out, but had a good look at it on 
 the return trip. It is a thorny jungle all the way, 
 with here and there a little village. You see a 
 tangled network of thorns, with the bare trunks 
 of mahogany-looking trees shining through the 
 mass. There seems to be at least twenty varieties 
 of tree and shrub, all richly garnished with thorns, 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 4! 
 
 the tree-tops woven into fantastic shapes. There 
 are brilliant flowers of many colors, and strange 
 birds flitting about. One tree, without leaf, is 
 covered with a profusion of yellow flowers as large 
 as a hollyhock. It is the richest and most beauti 
 ful yellow I ever saw, and is called the flor de 
 dias the day flower. Of the birds a thrush, 
 speckled like a guinea fowl, seems to be the most 
 startling departure from the ornithological costume 
 of our colder clime. The most astonishing feature 
 of the chapparel country is the tremendous growth 
 of the cactus. The prickly pear, which with us is 
 cultivated in flower pots, here attains the thickness 
 of a man s body in its trunk, is twenty feet high, 
 and its spreading branches cover an area of twelve 
 or fifteen feet. The organ cactus also grows to 
 the same size, and looks like an immense can 
 delabra. This- organ cactus is the night blooming 
 cereus of our green-houses, but instead of grow 
 ing in the slender, rope-like form it does with us, 
 here its pipes are as thick as a man s arm, and 
 grow to a height of eight or ten feet. On the table 
 lands it is used for hedging, and miles and miles 
 of it may be seen devoted to this purpose. 
 
 Dr. Harris has a small coffee plantation at Cor 
 dova, and was obliged to stop there on his way 
 home to settle up one of the numerous financial 
 complications which foreigners of means are eter 
 nally getting into with the government, local or 
 general. As none of us had ever seen the fra 
 grant bean growing, we concluded to accept his in 
 vitation and lay over one day. We arrived at the- 
 
42 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 station about five o clock. Much to our surprise 
 we found a street railway car at the depot, ready 
 to take us to the town, about a mile distant. Ar 
 riving at the town, we routed Dr. Russell from 
 his sweet dream of peace, and were made wel 
 come to the luxuries of wash-bowl, towel and 
 soap. Dr. R. is the last man of the ill-fated Car- 
 lotta colony a band of fiery-hearted Southrons 
 whose high-mettled souls revolted at the thought 
 of living under the accursed gridiron flag, and, 
 as cruel fate had denied them the privilege of ex 
 piring in the ultimate ditch, they packed up the 
 few remaining "calamities" the cruel fortune of 
 war had left them, accepted the cordial invitation 
 of Maximilian and went to Mexico. At first the 
 accounts that came back from the exiled warriors 
 exhaled only the aroma of the rose. Never was 
 >such a climate; never such a soil-; never so near 
 an approach to the primal paradise. The juci- 
 ness of the orange, the mealiness of the banana, 
 the flavor of the coffee, the saccharine richness of 
 the cane, the balminess of the atmosphere, were 
 all set forth in glowing accounts that made mil 
 lions of half-frozen Yankees mad with envy. They 
 almost wished that they had been licked in the 
 great fight, and had run away from their country 
 in a sulk, if it had taken them to such a delightful 
 climate, where a fellow had nothing to do but loll 
 in the shade, and let the mango juice run down 
 upon his beard like Aaron s precious ointment, 
 while his coffee trees bent beneath their burden, 
 and his yams grew to the size of flour barrels. 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 43 
 
 By and by other and less entrancing accounts 
 leaked out. One by one the colonists were fever- 
 stricken and died. Then Maximilian was butch 
 ered, and the incoming administration began to fon 
 dle the Carlotta colony in a way that was like unto 
 the manner in which a grizzly bear caresses a call. 
 Then such of them as had escaped the fever be 
 gan to straggle back to the United States, work 
 ing their passage in sailing vessels, \vith sallow 
 faces, meagre wardrobes, enlarged livers and a 
 change of heart so far as their sentiments toward 
 the old flag were concerned. There is nothing that 
 takes the rebellion out of a fellow so quickly and 
 completely as residence among the Latinized mon 
 grels of Mexico, and the few of the Carlotta colo 
 ny who still survive feel such a thrill shoot through 
 their lumbar vertebrae at the sight of the old flag 
 as we, who have never sinned and repented, are 
 strangers to. Dr. Russell is the Last Man. He 
 is sad, silent and gentle now, all the fierceness of 
 his ardent nature having been burnt out in the re 
 fining fires of adversity. He remains because his 
 interests keep him here, and he has become to a 
 certain extent reconciled to his exile, but his heart 
 is still in the Union, and he could almost put his 
 arms about a Massachusetts Yankee s neck. The 
 doctor runs a coffee plantation and practices medi 
 cine at intervals. To the poor he is a benison, and 
 many a fever-stricken Indian owes his life to his 
 unrequited attention. He speaks Spanish with 
 Castilian purity, and that easy, self-assured delib 
 eration which alone can hold its own with the po- 
 
44 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 lite guile of the Mexican officials ; he is tenacious 
 of his rights. Only a few days before we arrived 
 he had his horse shot from under him, but I am 
 happy to say the act had no political significance. 
 It was the protest of Mexican communists who 
 were disposed to dispute the title which the govern 
 ment had given the doctor to his lands. By the 
 way, the doctor desires to hear from the heirs of 
 Bernardo G. Colfield, a colonist from Indiana or 
 Illinois, he thinks, who went to Cordova in 1865, 
 bought lands, returned to the United States and 
 died. The lands have increased in value, and he 
 thinks something can be saved for the heirs by 
 paying up the taxes. 
 
 Cordova is a Spanish town. They are all alike, 
 the same low, flat-roofed, yellow houses, thick 
 walls, brick roofs and floors, grated windows and 
 open "courts," with a fountain and flowers in the 
 better class of dwellings ; the same old churches, 
 often embellished with blue porcelain tiles, and the 
 same garden spot of a plaza. 
 
 Possibly Cordova has more "get up" about it 
 than the ordinary Mexican town of its class. It 
 has public schools of which it is justly proud, and 
 aspires to be the rural Athens of Mexico. While 
 we were there a furious discussion was raging in 
 its newspapers among the dilletanti as to whether 
 the name should be spelled with a " b " or a " v." 
 The preponderance of evidence seemed to be in 
 favor of the " b," though the bulk of usage takes 
 Sam. Weller s view of it, and spells it "with a 
 wee." By the way, Mexican orthography is one 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 45 
 
 of those things which no fellow can find out. 
 They use the "b" and the "v," the "g" and the 
 "j," the "s" and the "x," and various other let 
 ters, interchangeably, and not infrequently you 
 find a word in which three letters may be used in 
 terchangeably. General is spelled with a "g" or 
 a "j," just as the speller happens to be a liberal 
 or a conservative. Mexico is spelled with an "x" 
 or a "j," and pronounced Meh-ico. Orizaba with 
 a "b" or a "v," Tuxpan with an "x" or an "s," 
 and some of them confuse the "n" and "m." The 
 "y" and the "i" also get mixed. 
 
 Cordova is situated on the first plateau of the 
 elevations which gradually lead up to the table 
 lands, nearly eight thousand feet above the level of 
 the sea. It is in the "hot lands," and everything 
 is decidedly tropical in appearance. Vegetation 
 is rank, and the atmosphere moist. The unculti 
 vated lands are almost an impenetrable jungle, 
 .starred with the brilliant red flowers of the tulipan 
 and other floral beauties. Cocoa nuts, mangoes, 
 zapotes, guavas, oranges, lemons, and scores of 
 other tropical fruits, abound, while myriads of the 
 most magnificent orchids the world can show are 
 found clinging to the trees. Coffee, tobacco and 
 fruits are the principal products. The Cordova 
 orange is the best in the world ; the Cordova coffee 
 is taking high rank, and the tobacco is equal to the 
 best of the Cuba product, though different in fla 
 vor. Dr. Harris plantation is most romantically 
 situated about a mile and a half from the town, on 
 the bank of a little river which tears along over its 
 
46 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 rocky bed several hundred feet below. The road 
 to the plantation lies through long lanes of hedge 
 rows, with coffee plantations on either side. Na 
 tive huts, built of reeds and thatched with straw,, 
 without window or chimney, and with the damp r 
 dank earth for a floor, line the way. Lank dogs 
 erect their mangy bristles as we pass, and magnifi 
 cent fighting cocks, tethered by the leg, make a 
 passing comment. Little brown babies, naked 
 as when they came unbidden into this cruel 
 world, and with a premonition of the fate to which 
 they are born in their sad faces, stop rolling in the 
 dirt as we pass, and fix their round white eyes on 
 us in the nearest approach to curiosity which we 
 have yet seen in Mexico. We begin to see and 
 feel the misery which an inscrutable providence 
 has permitted to be fastened on this fair land. We 
 see it in these miserable, fever-breeding, vermin- 
 haunted huts, but more than all in the sad, despair 
 ing gravity of the native countenance. 
 
 But to return to bur coffee. The coffee trees are 
 planted in rows, with intervening rows of bananas, 
 which grow to the height of fifteen or twenty feet. 
 The latter are planted for the purpose of shading 
 the coffee trees, which love moisture and heat, but 
 quail beneath the direct rays of the vertical sun. 
 The bananas are a mere side issue, but not infre 
 quently a planter will make his year s expenses off 
 the fruit crop, and have the coffee for clear profit. 
 I am told that thare is no more beautiful sight than 
 a coffee field in full bloom. The flowers are very 
 much like orange blossoms, and exhale a delight- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 4ft 
 
 ful fragrance which loads the air for miles around. 
 Now the trees are in full fruit and bending beneath 
 the load of berries, which are dark purple in color, 
 and look very much like the cranberry. The pulp 
 which surrounds the berry has a pleasant, slightly 
 pungent, sweetish taste, and the pickers, who be 
 come addicted to nibbling as they pick suffer from 
 sleeplessness. The coffee trees on- the plantations 
 are all the way from four to twelve feet high, 
 though in some of the gardens about Cordova they 
 have grown to be as large as the medium-sized 
 maples which shade the streets of Indianapolis. 
 Planters are sorely bedeviled with the mischievous 
 work of a sort of mole or underground rat, which 
 cuts off the trunk of the tree with its sharp teeth, 
 and lets it fall. These pests seem to have no par 
 ticular object in view. They find the tree in their 
 way and cut it down. In some instances, Dr. 
 Russell says, they will cut down trees eight inches 
 in diameter. The planter, going through his 
 grounds, gleefully rubbing his hands and estimat 
 ing the number of quintals he will have, finds here 
 and there a tree with its rich burden of fruit top 
 pled over, and if an impatient oath escapes be 
 tween his set teeth, probably the recording angel 
 will take the provocation into account. Two of 
 these rat-felled trees we trimmed for walking 
 sticks, and it is cited as a remarkable fact that we 
 carried them clear to the city of Mexico and back 
 to Indianapolis. When the berries are picked 
 they are spread on the ground and the pulp allow 
 ed to rot, being frequently stirred. If rain comes, 
 
48 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 they must take it, for the berry will not cure under 
 shelter. After a walk over the plantation we sat 
 down to rest and eat fruits at the cottage, where a 
 slender brown fellow was pounding coffee in a 
 wooden mortar, to liberate the membrane which 
 envelops the grains, and a bright-eyed, rather 
 pretty and demure Indian girl was sifting and as 
 sorting the grains. The usual dog came and 
 sniffed at the calves of our legs ; two bright little 
 girls, mahogany in color, came and brought tor 
 tillas and fried eggs as a present to Miss Harris, 
 whom they had become acquainted with on a 
 former visit, and one of the doctor s familiars 
 brought us oranges, sweet lemons, bananas, and a 
 small palm nut, about the size of a walnut, very 
 hard to crack, and of very little account after it 
 was cracked. Here Dr. Harris and Dr. Russell 
 talked coffee, while P. and myself ate oran 
 ges, and the colonel admired the demure little 
 maid or matron who was sifting coffee. The col 
 onel declared he had never seen a finer pair of 
 eyes in his life, and wondered how old she was. 
 Dr. Russell translated the question to her, and she 
 replied, with a laugh: "Jj^uien sabe?" "who 
 knows." (It is a fact, the doctor told me, that 
 many of them don t know their ages). The de 
 mure little woman was conscious of the admiration 
 she had inspired, and liked it. Not so with the 
 man at the pestle husband or lover as the case 
 might be. He brought his pestle down with a vim 
 which made it whistle viciously, and a pained look 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 49 
 
 came over his brown face as he noted the girl s 
 coquetry and the Colonel s pretense of gallantry. 
 It is a lesson one soon learns in this strange coun 
 try not to admire the native women too pronouncedly 
 in the presence of the men, unless you are prepared 
 to have a knife scoured in your ribs, or your head 
 split open with a machete. The women do not ob 
 ject, but their lovers have little toleration for flirta 
 tions in which they do not play the principal role. 
 But to return once more to our coffee. The crop 
 this year is immense, and can not be all harvested. 
 As the berries do not all ripen at once, the pickers 
 must go through several times. In the last pick 
 ing they strip the trees of the green berries so as to 
 give them a chance to rest awhile before beginning 
 the next crop. The planters suffer greatly from 
 thieves, but still make large profits. The culture 
 is increasing each year, and new plantations are 
 being continually opened. The foreign demand 
 for Cordova coffee is constantly increasing, and al 
 ready the dealers of New Orleans are palming off 
 other brands as the genuine Cordova article. On 
 the tips of each twig grow a handful ofsmall, round 
 berries, w 7 hich are called car icar ilia. This berry 
 is so highly prized by Mexicans that none of it is 
 ever exported. While the ordinary Cordova ber 
 ries sell at seventeen cents a pound, car icar ilia 
 commands forty cents for home consumption. Miss 
 Harris gave us a small bag of these fancy berries, 
 w r hich we brought home with us. I have been ex 
 perimenting with caricarilld) and must confess that 
 I can not find anything remarkable in it. It is 
 4 
 
5O TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 very strong and heavy-flavored, and makes a clear 
 and very black coffee, but seems to lack the deli 
 cate aroma of some other brands. I am half in 
 clined to accept Dr. Russell s theory. Though a 
 coffee-grower himself, he contends that all this pre 
 tense of nice discrimination in coffee is sheer hum 
 bug. He says he has tested experts with alternate 
 cups of coffee made by the same artist, one of the 
 car icar ilia and the other of the blasted, cracked 
 and refuse grains, and they couldn t tell one from 
 the other. Perhaps it s like it is with whisky. 
 When a fellow is nearly dead for a drink a swig of 
 r. g. makes him smack his lips and gabble about 
 nectar, while under other circumstances he will de 
 nounce the finest eighteen-year-old Bourbon as r. g. 
 When he gets one or two drinks into him, his palate 
 lies like a politician. 
 
 A curious tribe of Indians are seen in the streets 
 of Cordova. The men wear the ordinary ponche 
 and a pair of white cotton trousers, coming down 
 halfway to the knee, while the women are plainly 
 attired in white shirt and a strip of blue cloth tied 
 about the waist and falling to the ankles. They 
 pay tribute to the Mexican government but will not 
 serve in the army. The women will not speak to 
 or look at anybody not belonging to their tribe, 
 and the men boast that they were never conquered 
 by the Spaniards. Miss Harris called my atten 
 tion to something hanging out of a shop window, 
 which looked like two or three bundles of fodder 
 arranged to shed the rain. It proved to be a Mex- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 51 
 
 ican overcoat, made of grass and worn by these 
 people in the rainy season. 
 
 While sitting in Dr. Russell s parlor in the even 
 ing, said parlor being ornamented with a pair of 
 navy sixes and a Winchester rifle, we were startled 
 by a terrible scurrying and scampering in the gar 
 ret overhead. On inquiring of the doctor \ve were 
 told that it was only his opossums at play. These 
 creatures are harbored on account of their rat- 
 hunting propensities. We had put in a busy day 
 at Cordova. After dinner at the house of a Ger 
 man woman who had listened to Dr. Russell s in 
 tercession and kindly consented to feed us, three 
 of us retired to rest at Don Juan s hostelrv, while 
 
 *J J " 
 
 Dr. Harris and his daughter were accommodated 
 with a bed at Dr. Russell s. As we had to get up 
 at four, a good deal of solicitude was expressed as 
 to the reliability of Holy Cross, the porter of Don 
 Juan s inn, whose duty it was to wake us. The Don, 
 who is a smoothly-shaven, dulcet-voiced Castilian, 
 and looks as if he ought to have been a priest, 
 shrugged his .shoulders when questioned as to 
 Holy Cross s liability to oversleep himself, and re 
 plied that he (H. C.) was a mule. Dr. Russell 
 gave it as his opinion that if Holy Cross should 
 have an attack of nightmare about half-past three, 
 and should wake up just as the wild bull was over 
 taking him, he would not go to sleep again until 
 four, and we would be aroused in time. The con 
 sequence was that we all went to bed with it on our 
 minds, and began getting up in sections, all the 
 way from midnight to four o clock. Don Juan s 
 
52 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 rooms are not as magnificently furnished as those 
 of the New York hotels. Our room had a brick 
 floor, grated windows, doors like a jail, and a key 
 that would weigh about seven pounds. The beds 
 were mere cots, without mattrass, but covered with 
 the snowiest linen sheets and the gay blanket of 
 the country. Notwithstanding the novelty of the sit 
 uation, we slept soundly until we began getting up. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 I HAVE frittered away my descriptive powers on 
 inferior subjects, and therefore can not do justice 
 to the beauty and grandeur of the mountain scen 
 ery of Mexico. After leaving the " low flat land " 
 of the coast, and beginning the ascent to the table 
 lands, the route affords a constant succession of 
 surprises. First come the Chiquihuites, groups of 
 round, smooth domes, covering the mountain tops, 
 and looking like inverted peach baskets. In the 
 mellow distance the verdant pines that cover the 
 surface of these baby mountains are indistinguish 
 able as individual trees, and the surfaces look 
 smooth as if the grass had been closely cut with a 
 lawn mower. There are fleeting glimpses of water 
 falls, where a silver stream bursts through a dark 
 gorge in the mountain s side, tumbles in a white 
 sheet over a precipice, and then foams its way to 
 the Gulf. Over immense iron bridges, apparently 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 53 
 
 sixty, seventy or a hundred feet high ; creeping 
 around the edges of chasms where a broken rail 
 would give a sheer fall of a thousand feet ; plung 
 ing through tunnel after tunnel, the train goes, 
 drawn by an immense double-headed engine up, 
 up, until the rarified air makes breathing difficult, 
 and the blood gushes from the noses of some of the 
 passengers. Within a distance of thirty miles the 
 train makes an ascent of four thousand feet. For 
 two hours, at least, we circle around the little In 
 dian village of Maltrate, on different levels, until 
 Alta Luz (high light) is reached. It seems as if we 
 cannot get away from Maltrate. First we stop there, 
 and are besieged by scores of spruce and rather 
 handsome Indian women with tortillas, delicious 
 pine apples, chirimoyas and other fruits to sell. The 
 chirimoya is the crack fruit of Mexico. It is large, 
 greenish-looking, irregular in shape, some of the 
 biggest weighing a pound, and full of a custard- 
 like pulp, the sweet richness of which is tempered 
 with a delicious sub-acid. The village of Mal 
 trate is pure Indian. No white man need apply. 
 It is a neat, trim-looking place, and is full of caste. 
 They have an aristocracy, a middle class and a 
 poor class, and are great sticklers for keeping up 
 the barriers between them. Leaving this village 
 the train climbs around and around, almost doub 
 ling on itself, and from higher elevations the vil 
 lage again bursts upon our sight, until finally from 
 Alta Luz it is seen far, far below, its streets and 
 houses and neatly-trimmed gardens looking like a 
 toy village. Men and beasts appear as insects. In 
 
54 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 making the ascent we get glimpses of delightful 
 valleys, which seem in their sylvan beauty and 
 the freshness of their verdure to realize our dreams 
 of Paradise. Up one of these fair vales, just be 
 yond a clump of what seem to be fruit trees, but 
 unfortunately out of sight, lies another Indian vil 
 lage, more remarkable even than Maltrate. Its peo 
 ple are more exclusive than the Japanese used to be. 
 They will not even give a white man food or shelter 
 for fear he may be seeking a lodgment in their 
 town. 
 
 Fantastic names are given to many of the points 
 of interest in this mountain region, such as "El 
 Infernillo" (the Little Hell), Devil s Balcony, etc. 
 In some places, we are told, the workmen, tied in 
 chairs, were swung from the precipices, and thus 
 suspended over a chasm hundreds of feet deep, 
 hewed the roadway out of the solid rock. The lit 
 tle shanties of the road watchmen, with maybe a 
 bit of garden around them, are the only signs of 
 civilization seen as we rise above the valleys. All 
 is wild, weird and grand oppressively grand. 
 
 At Boca del Monte (throat of the mountain) the 
 highest elevation is reached, and we enter upon 
 the table land, 7,500 feet above the sea. It is a 
 small station, with a few eating and drinking 
 houses. The woods are full of a very peculiar or 
 chid, w r hich has a vermilion-colored cone about 
 eight inches long, an inch and a half thick, and 
 covered with over-lapping scales like those of a 
 pineapple. The Mexican trees are full of para 
 sites. Besides the orchids mentioned, there are 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 55 
 
 thousands of little tufts of a moss-looking sub 
 stance fastened to the limbs. 
 
 From Boca del Monte to the city an entirely new 
 variety of scenery is presented. It is a flat, tree 
 less stretch of arid-looking land, in many respects 
 like our western plains, but hedged in with blue 
 mountains. Immense fields devoted to the culti 
 vation of maize and barley are seen on either side, 
 with the white farm-houses, walled like forts and 
 surrounded by the adobe huts of the peons, in the 
 distance. Scarcely a tree or a shrub is to be seen. 
 It is one eternal, monotonous expanse of brown, 
 earth, with scarcely a morsel of green to relieve 
 the tired eye. The low, stunted stalks of last sea 
 son s corn crop, planted a single grain in the hill, 
 and the barley stubble, indicate that the land is 
 productive ; otherwise we would set it down as a 
 desert. There are no fences. Ditches seem to 
 mark the measure of the land. Some of the haci 
 endas are of immense extent, embracing land 
 enough for an entire county. Doubtless in the 
 rainy season there is a change for the better in the 
 appearance of the country, but in January it looks 
 gloomy enough. As we trundle along at the leis 
 urely Mexican rate of travel, which, moderate as 
 it. is, is fast enough to raise clouds of dust, we see 
 from the car window herds of circling horses 
 tramping out the grain which the peons are win 
 nowing ; herds of cattle, black sheep and lop-eared 
 swine ; while every few moments a whirlwind car 
 ries a spiral column of dust far upward toward the 
 sky. The atmosphere is delightfully clear, and the 
 
56 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 blue mountains, which are leagues upon leagues 
 away, seem almost at our feet. Now we see great 
 Orizaba s glistening peak, so close that through a 
 field glass we can mark the wide chasm through 
 which he once poured his flood of hissing lava, and 
 now some pigmy peak obscures the view. Malin- 
 che (named after the Indian mistress of Cortez) is 
 an unassuming mountain, whose moderate height 
 does not admit of eternal snow. 
 
 Very frequently she wears a white head-dress 
 for her morning reception, but the hot sun soon 
 burns it away. Then comes a happy point where, 
 if the atmosphere is favorable, all three of the 
 great snow mountains, Orizaba, Popocatapetl and 
 Ixtaccihuatl, are visible. The man who is fortu 
 nate enough to get this magnificent view, for even 
 one fleeting moment, will have something to re 
 member as long as he lives. There is something 
 in the cold, pure majesty of the snow r mountains 
 which fascinates and overawes. The more you 
 see of them the less familiar they become. Thev 
 are no longer inanimate things. They seem to sit 
 in calm judgment on the sin-cursed land. 
 
 Mexico is probablv as quiet now as it ever has 
 been or ever will be. But we see many things 
 that testify to the uncertain tenure of life and prop 
 erty. An escort of soldiers accompanies each 
 train. The white arms of crosses, erected at inter 
 vals along the roadside, mark the spots where the 
 bones of murdered men are crumbling to dust, 
 and at each station a squad of cavalry, mounted 
 on richly caparisoned horses, with carbines in 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 57 
 
 holsters and sabres at their sides, are drawn up 
 along the platform. These are detachments of the 
 Interior Guard, an organization gotten up by Diaz 
 to protect his own and the people s interests against 
 robbers and revolutionists. This guard is made 
 up of a much better class of men than the regular 
 army. The finest squad I saw was at Huamantla, 
 a town which has the proud distinction of having 
 more churches and robbers than any other place 
 in Mexico. They were fine-looking, intelligent, 
 determined fellows, and the most magnificent 
 horsemen in the world. They ride erect in the 
 saddle, with their legs straight in the stirrups, and 
 horse and rider move so harmoniously that they 
 seem to be blended in a single animal. 
 
 By and by we get out of the barley country and 
 strike the pulque region. Here a new wonder 
 opens to the view. For hours and hours the train 
 passes through interminable fields of the American 
 aloe, or maguey, as it is called. It is what is 
 known in American green-houses as the cen 
 tury plant. From it is procured the national tipple 
 of Mexico pulque. The vastness of these pul 
 que fields is almost incredible. On either side, be 
 hind, ahead, as far as the tired eye can reach, you 
 see nothing but endless rows of maguey plants, in 
 various stages of growth, some of them shooting 
 their tall bloom spires twelve or fifteen feet in the 
 air, but most of them getting ready to yield their 
 sap for the favorite drink. It takes eight years for 
 the maguey to come to perfection. At this age the 
 tap root is cut, the center of the great plant scooped 
 
5 8 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 out, leaving a hollow cup that will hold two or 
 three gallons of sap, and the work of pulque mak 
 ing begins. For eight or nine months the sap 
 flows, and a healthy, well-grown plant will yield 
 four or five hundred gallons of fluid, after which it 
 is done for. The unfermented juice is called agua 
 miel (honey water), and is well entitled to the 
 name. It is very rich in saccharine matter, and 
 very delicate. When slightly fermented it is a 
 pleasant, refreshing drink, with the merest trace 
 of alcohol, but when "at its best," as the Mexicans 
 like it, after having been wallowed about in the 
 filthy pig-skins in which it is transported, it be 
 comes the most atrocious beverage that ever a man 
 put into his stomach. In this condition of "ripe 
 ness" it is milky white in color, thick and ropy, a 
 powerful intoxicant, and tastes like rotten butter 
 milk braced up with pine-top whisky. It is more 
 infamous than hard cider or "black-strap." I had 
 heard much of pulque, and with that curiosity 
 which naturally precedes the acquisition of knowl 
 edge, embraced the first opportunity for making its 
 acquaintance. I bought some from an Indian girl, 
 paying a claco (about a cent and a half) for a quart 
 of it, vessel and all, and tasted. It was fresh from 
 the plant, with just enough of fermentation to pro 
 duce a creamy foam on the surface, and had never 
 touched a pig-skin. I found it nice but formed a 
 rather contemptuous opinion of its drunk-making 
 powers. 
 
 The next I tasted was in the city of Mexico, 
 where the gaily-painted sign of a dancing girl, 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 59 
 
 with an inscription announcing " pulques finos-y ac- 
 creditos" invited the weary wayfarer to pause and 
 " refresco " himself. In response to my demand 
 the vender seized a large glass that would hold 
 about a pint, and with a leprous thumb on the out 
 side and a leprous finger on the inside dipped it in 
 to the barrel, and drew it forth full of" accredited " 
 pulque. The finger in the glass made me feel a 
 little qualmish, and I motioned toward a vessel with 
 a handle. With a muttered imprecation, and a 
 growl which seemed like a Spanish translation of a 
 celebrated apothegm, to the effect that " some folks 
 are a 1-e-e-tle too nice to live," he filled up the other 
 glass without giving his fingers a bath. Ugh ! I 
 can taste it yet. I can fancy nothing like it unless 
 it be the fermented must of grapes mixed with ran 
 cid buttermilk, and flavored with " all sorts " from 
 a villainous rum-mill. The maguey is propagated 
 from shoots or suckers. These shoots are taken up, 
 the roots cut off, and then the plants are left lying 
 in the sun for a month or two, until thoroughly 
 dried, when they are planted. Unless taken 
 through this preparatory course the absurd things 
 would rot on being put into the ground. What 
 most astonishes the traveler is the overwhelming 
 extent of pulque culture. Here are millions of 
 acres of land devoted to the culture of a luxury- 
 something that goes down the throat and produces 
 neither bone, blood nor muscle. It is the thief 
 that steals away the miserable brains of these two- 
 legged beasts of burden. The "invisible spirit" 
 of pulque leaves visible traces all over this part of 
 
6O TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 the republic. The " pulque train" leaves the city 
 of Mexico every morning, and returns at night, la 
 den with the precious juice. 
 
 It is distributed all over the city and in the sur 
 rounding towns in pig and sheepskins. A load of 
 these pulque-filled skins reminds me of nothing so 
 much as a lot of cholera hogs in a dead animal 
 wagon on the way to their destination. They lie on 
 their backs in the cart, their feet sticking up, and, 
 the liquor having softened the skin, they shake 
 and quiver in the most disgusting manner. The 
 gayest shops in the city are pulque shops. The 
 stuff is so disgustingly cheap, and when in prime 
 condition so full of drunk, that it is astonishing 
 how little of real drunkenness is seen. When 
 cleanly and carefully handled, however, pulque is 
 capable of being made into a very appetizing 
 drink. It is so delicate that the slightest contact 
 with a pig-skin ruins it, but when fermented in 
 earthen jars it becomes a very pleasant and com 
 paratively harmless beverage. At Dr. Harris 1 I 
 tasted some which had all the sparkle and fresh 
 ness of champagne. The doctor says it cured 
 him of a bad case of dyspepsia, and that when 
 cleanly prepared it is a sovereign remedy for many 
 forms of that disease. The pulque plant is capa 
 ble of being useful as well as ornamental. Ropes, 
 paper and linen may be made of its fibres. In 
 the museum of the city of Mexico may be seen 
 specimens of the picture writing of the Aztecs, 
 upon paper made from this plant. Perhaps the 
 time may come when so poor a people as the ma- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 6l 
 
 jority of Mexicans are can find something better 
 for the maguey to do than to make them drunk. 
 
 The pyramids of San Juan Teotihuacan are about 
 the last visible point of interest before entering the 
 city of Mexico. Soon after leaving this point night 
 overtakes the train, and with the exception of occa 
 sional glimpses of lake Texcuco nothing is to be 
 seen until we fetch up in the depot at Buena Vista, 
 and once more have the delightful felicity of run 
 ning the custom-house gauntlet. It is one of the 
 peculiarities of the Mexican mode of doing busi 
 ness that the traveler, having passed through one 
 custom-house at Vera Cruz, encounters another at 
 the end of his journey which looks like rubbing it 
 in on a fellow. The pyramids supposed to repre 
 sent the sun and moon are great mounds of earth, 
 full of bones and precious relics. Wagon-loads of 
 grotesque heads of men and animals, moulded in 
 clay and cut in stone, are picked up in the neigh 
 borhood, and one little, two little, twenty little " in- 
 jun boys " offer them for sale. I bought about half 
 a gallon of these images, with some spear and ar 
 row-heads of obsidian (the black glass-like sub 
 stance of which the blades of Lew. Wallace s ma- 
 quahuitls were made) for a real twelve and a half 
 cents. They were mostly of clay, but among them 
 were a head of cut stone and two or three stone 
 buttons or beads, which the young savage had tied 
 together by a string, and which he held up for my 
 admiration as something especially precious. As I 
 afterward saw some of the same kind in the museum, 
 I conclude that they are more ancient than the clay 
 
62 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 images. It isn t always safe to purchase relics, but 
 these images are so abundant about San Juan that 
 it is infinitely cheaper to pick up the genuine than 
 it would be to make counterfeits. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A COLORED coachman conveyed us from the de 
 pot to the Hotel Comonfort, in the street of Cinco 
 de Mayo, (the 5th of May.) This is a favorite 
 name for pulque shops and other things in the city 
 of Mexico. On inquiry we learn that the 5th of 
 May has almost as much importance in Mexico as 
 the Fourth of July with us. On that day they de 
 feated (or thought they did) the French at Puebla. 
 Our colored coachman proves to be a Georgia ne 
 gro who came out with Scott s army as servant to 
 one of the officers. On the withdrawal of the 
 army he concluded to remain. He liked the cli 
 mate. Better still, he liked the idea of being his 
 own master. He has accumulated lucre, and on 
 the whole is pretty well contented with the situa 
 tion. Before the emancipation his heart was nearly 
 broken with the longing to revisit the scenes of his 
 childhood. Now that he could safely make the 
 visit without danger of having the shackles refas- 
 tened on his limbs, he cares less about it, though he 
 still vaguely intends to carry out the project at 
 some future time. He has become thoroughly in- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 63 
 
 fected with the indolent manana spirit of Mexico, 
 which makes a point of never doing to-day that 
 which can be put oft till to-morrow. The Hotel 
 Comonfort we found to be a rather modern build 
 ing, for Mexico, built with open interior court and 
 inside galleries for each floor. It looked a little 
 queer to see the stars above us in place of a roof. 
 We got good rooms at the rate of forty dollars per 
 month, neatly carpeted and furnished with brass 
 bedsteads and soft mattresses. We had scarcely 
 got settled in our new quarters before Pedro Dal- 
 cour, our young Mexican friend, came to call on 
 us, and took us out for a walk. 
 
 The cocktail and helmet hat have both invaded 
 Mexico. After taking a cup of delicious chocolate 
 such as can be found nowhere else than in Mexico 
 we dropped in at a canlina to sample the bever 
 ages of the country. While sipping a mild dilu 
 tion of cognac, I heard the familiar screech of a 
 drunken man in the street, and a moment after a 
 young Mexican, in a helmet hat, burst into the 
 room, and began a series of the most affectionate 
 demonstrations. He was frightfully drunk drunk 
 enough for the United States. He embraced the 
 colonel, and fell upon P. s neck. Then he threw 
 a hard dollar on the table, and insisted on a drink 
 all around w r ith his amigos Americanos. He loved 
 the gringos because they had some style ab.out 
 them. We got away as quickly as \ve could. 
 " What has that man been drinking ?" I asked of 
 Pedro, who speaks a little English. " Cocktails ! " 
 he replied. The cocktail came in with the helmet 
 
64 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 hat some weeks previous, and this progressive 
 Mexican took to them both. Pedro predicted that 
 he would sleep in the deputacion, a prediction 
 which, as we learned afterward, was verified. I 
 may as well state, however, that this was the only 
 howling drunk we saw in Mexico. 
 
 I got but little sleep the first night in the Hotel 
 Comonfort. There was a niggardly allowance of 
 bed clothing, and my first experience of the 
 boasted climate of Mexico was anything but reas 
 suring. It was an eager and a nipping air, and 
 the great ulster which I had taken along with 
 many misgivings, proved my salvation. There 
 was a bell in the church of the Profesa, just 
 across the way, which began ringing about four 
 o clock and kept up a succession of sharp, quick 
 strokes, with a few minutes intermission between 
 each attack, until six. And throughout the night 
 the policemen broke out every hour with a long- 
 drawn, shrill whistle. The Mexican policeman 
 is the sleepiest of his kind. During my stay I 
 rarely saw one at night that \vas not asleep. He 
 wraps his blanket around him, sits him in a door 
 way, and laps his gentle soul in the elysium of 
 dreams, during which his number comes from the 
 lottery wheel, and for a few brief hours he is a 
 nabob. I suppose they must take turns at the 
 whistle, as it is as regular as clockwork. 
 
 I got up early in the morning, and went out 
 alone to hunt a barber-shop and bath-room. I 
 found the barber first, a grave and grizzled man, 
 with an evident admixture of the Indian in his 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 65 
 
 blood. He sat me down in a low chair without 
 any back, in front of a mirror ; there was a little 
 table, in the drawer of which he kept his imple 
 ments, the lower part of the mirror being hidden 
 by folds of glazed muslin. I had to stick my legs 
 under the table, and " scrooch " a little every time 
 he went to the drawer for the implements of his 
 diabolical trade. I came very near falling into 
 his trap. His little game was to harrass me into 
 stretching my legs through his two-dollar looking- 
 glass, and then charge me sixteen dollars for the 
 damage. He lathered well, and I began to be 
 lieve that for once my prescient soul was apprehen 
 sive without cause. He seized my nose and began 
 to rasp. The Mexican razor is uniformly dull, 
 but he made up in strength what it lacked in edge. 
 He shaved with a broad, free stroke, cutting up 
 ward where a United States barber cuts down, and 
 doing everything in a way of his own. I set my 
 teeth hard and breathed a silent prayer. Now 
 I thought an ear would surely go. That peril 
 passed, I would have paid a high premium to in 
 sure mv nose. He finally got through, and be 
 yond the fright I was none the worse. Then he 
 held a soup dish rilled with lemon juice under my 
 chin, sponged my face, threw a towel over it, and 
 signified that I might finish the job myself. 
 
 At the bath-house they brought me a little cake 
 of soap, which looked like a cracker, two tiny bot 
 tles of sweet-smelling oleaginous stuff, and a wisp 
 of sea-grass like a bird s nest. " Camisa calicnteT 
 inquired the attendant. tfc Si" I replied. You must 
 5 
 
66 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 always say k Si " in Mexico whether you " see it 17 
 or not, as it impresses the attendant with the idea 
 that you know what you are about, and wall not be 
 easily swindled. I got into the soft hot water and 
 gave myself up to the luxury of the bath, all the 
 time wondering what a camisa calicntc was, and 
 feeling a sense of injury because he had not brought 
 it. Coming out of the bath, a new wonder present- 
 ed itself that bird s nest. Of the two vials of oil 
 I assumed one was for the hair and the other for 
 the skin, but the bird s nest puzzled me. Finally I 
 guessed it. It \vas to be used as a flesh brush, and 
 right w r ell did it answ r er the purpose. I had about 
 got through \vith my rubbing and scrubbing, when 
 the attendant came and brought me a night-shirt 
 which had been warmed at the fire. This, then, 
 was the camisa calientc, but its use puzzled me. 
 With a feeling of awe I hurriedly dressed and 
 sneaked out, leaving the pesky thing neatly folded 
 up. To this day I am ignorant as to what I ought 
 to have done with it. " Ctianto," I asked of the 
 attendant. He told me just how much, but I wasn t 
 yet up in the matter of reals and medtos. In de 
 spair I gave him three quarters. For a brief mo 
 ment he hesitated between the temptation to de 
 mand more and the impulse to be content with \vhat 
 I had given. Then he thought of his sainted 
 mother, and w r ith a sigh gave me back one quarter 
 and a six-and-a-fourth cent piece. 
 
 Mexico is not a willed city, though most people 
 have that impression. It is surrounded by ditches 
 and canals. The private walls which are found 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 67 
 
 everywhere, and the great aqueduct built by the 
 Spaniards a hundred and thirty-eight years ago, 
 often confirm visitors in the erroneous opinion that 
 it is walled. It has a population of about two 
 hundred thousand, less by a hundred thousand 
 than at the time of the conquest. Its architecture 
 is massive and monotonous. The site is in a level 
 plain, once the bed of the lake, surrounded by 
 mountains. Its sky for the greater part of the 
 year is of the purest sapphire the clearest, 
 brightest, most brilliant blue, with not a cloud 
 speck to be seen, though a haze generally hangs 
 about the mountain tops, hiding the peaks and 
 bases of Popocatapetl and Ixtaccihuatl. Now 
 and then this haze is swept off, and for an entire 
 day the two snow mountains, which are distant a 
 full day s journey, seem no more than five miles 
 away, while the nearer ranges are almost within 
 rifle shot. On these rare occasions the view from 
 the cathedral tower is worth a journey round the 
 world to see. With the exception of the fires of the 
 charcoal burners which dot the mountain sides, 
 there is nothing to cloud the air. Mexico burns 
 little fuel. The patient mule furnishes the motive 
 power for her few manufactories, and there are not 
 a hundred stoves or grates in the entire city. A 
 very little charcoal in an open brazier is made to do 
 a great deal of cooking, and no fuel save that 
 which may be acquired at the drinking houses is 
 needed for heating. The city is badly drained. 
 Originally a lake, with canals for streets, and an 
 occasional solid causeway, its site is now a morass, 
 
68 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 with the water but a few feet below the surface. 
 Its boasted climate is peculiar you freeze on one 
 side of the street and roast on the other. 
 
 The ratified air affects some people very dis 
 agreeably. After a week s residence you feel as 
 if you had been baked in a lime-kiln until every 
 particle ot moisture had been expelled. Eyes, 
 nose, mouth, lips and throat are parched. Some 
 visitors are unable to sleep. Climbing a single 
 flight of stairs takes away your breath, and you 
 have to sit down at the top and gasp. As for 
 health, the death-rate is higher than that of Vera 
 Cruz. Typhoid fevers are almost epidemic the 
 year round, and pneumonia runs a rapid and gen 
 erally fatal course. The old residents seem pe 
 culiarly susceptible to colds, and spend most of 
 their leisure time in putting on and off their over 
 coats, and getting out of the way of drafts. Their 
 existence is a nightmare, and yet they will over 
 whelm you with eulogies of their "delightful cli 
 mate." The surroundings are lovely in spots. 
 There are beautiful roadways, lined with trees, and 
 statuary and stone benches at intervals. Where 
 the land is irrigated it is marvelously green and 
 fresh, but in other places it looks dry and parched, 
 and in spots the receding lake has left saline and 
 alkaline wastes where no sprig of vegetation 
 grows. The ditches are covered with a green 
 and purple confervoid growth. Everywhere the 
 eucalyptus tree, imported by Maximilian, shoots 
 its graceful spire toward the sky. In former times 
 the city was subject to overflow. A lion s head at 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 69 
 
 the corner of St. Francis and Holy Ghost streets 
 marks the height of the last serious inundation, 
 about fifty years ago. The head is seven or eight 
 feet from the ground. At this time there was seri 
 ous talk of removing the city to the high ground 
 about Tacubaya and Chapultepec, but a lucky 
 earthquake let out the water, and since then the 
 lake has almost entirely disappeared. It is a curi 
 ous city, inhabited by a curious people. They shoot 
 their emperors, hang their pictures on the palace 
 walls, and educate their children. They divide 
 their loving admiration between Iturbide s por 
 trait and the quaint old flint-lock muskets with 
 which they did him to death. The government is 
 a republic modified by despotism. It is a nation 
 of incongruities. Caste is cruel, and democracy 
 ostentatious. Politeness that means nothing is op 
 pressive. The millionaire who lights his cigarette 
 from a naked Indian s -puro utters his " mil gra- 
 cias, Senor" with an air of sincerity that carries 
 conviction, and bows with a courtly grace that is 
 enchanting. He will tell you that his house, his 
 horse, his purse, his everything, is yours ; but it is 
 merely a pleasant fiction which has become sanc 
 tified by antiquity. He would be inexpressibly 
 shocked and grieved if you were to take him at 
 his word. 
 
 Mexican law is one of those things that no fel 
 low not even a clairvoyant can find out. When 
 the authorities want to do anything, they can al 
 ways rake up a law to suit the case from their legal 
 junk shop, or if they can t find one entire, they will 
 
7O TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 take broken pieces and patch up one to suit. They 
 have an assorted lot of laws laid away for emer 
 gencies ; and yet they have some crude ideas of 
 justice which might be serviceably adopted by 
 more civilized communities. A dead-beat may be 
 jugged in Mexico, while with us he is cock of the 
 \valk. If you are beaten out of money or prop 
 erty by a s\vindler, you can put him in jail and 
 keep him there. In fact, you ve got to keep him 
 there, because if he gets out the very first thing he 
 does will be to slap you in. The only safe way to 
 let a fellow out of jail is to make him give bond, 
 with approved security, that he w r ill not retaliate. 
 Mexico is the only city in the world that has sub 
 dued its hack-drivers. Some of them have coun 
 tenances that would insure a verdict of guilty on 
 most any charge, but you never hear of their rob 
 bing passengers, or attempting to over-charge 
 them. Fifty cents an hour is the established rate, 
 and I never heard of one demanding more. A 
 trifle, pour boire, is usually thrown in as a gratuity. 
 Neither are they noisy and insolent as in other 
 cities. They never yell at each other in passing. 
 Their reticence and general good behavior inspired 
 me with awe. But Mexican la\vs are stringent, 
 and are mercilessly enforced against the lower 
 classes. The silence of the population seems phe 
 nomenal to an American. In the market places 
 there is no loud talk. Even the donkey-drivers 
 admonish their puny beasts with a \vhispered 
 "tehee!" 
 
 The deportment of the Indian population is 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 71 
 
 quiet and accords with the sad gravity of their 
 faces. Indeed, the more I see of this people, the 
 less credence I give to tales that are told of 
 their indolence and treacherous cruelty. So far 
 from being lazy they are the hardest workers I ever 
 saw. A Mexican Indian s spine must be a curious 
 piece of mechanism. You see hundreds and hun 
 dreds of them coming in every morning from the 
 surrounding villages, loaded like pack-mules, with 
 fruit, vegetables and other articles. They travel 
 at a swinging dog trot, and will come a distance 
 of ten or twelve miles, carrying burdens that do 
 not weigh less than three or four hundred pounds. 
 And they are not large men, either. Stone, lum 
 ber, charcoal, and other bulky materials are car 
 ried on the backs of men and donkeys. There 
 are few carts. Licensed carriers, wearing leath 
 ern helmets and a leather armor with their number 
 on it, are seen everywhere. Four of them will 
 pick up a great piano and trot entirely across the 
 city with it in less time than you could hitch up a 
 dray and haul it. The water from the aqueduct 
 is deposited in fountains in different parts of the 
 city, and these carriers distribute it among the 
 houses. Their honesty is such that they are al 
 lowed to enter houses without watching. At each 
 trip the carrier leaves a little red bean, and by 
 these, settlement is made at the end of the week. 
 Everything is done by hand, and labor-saving ma 
 chinery is regarded as a robbery of the poor. The 
 streets are cleanly swept every night by squads 
 of men armed with little bundles of twigs. The 
 
72 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 scrupulous cleanliness of the streets and parks, and 
 the absence of coal dust in the air, is more than 
 counteracted by the horrible tilth of the ditches 
 in the suburbs. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OUR first day in Mexico was spent in aimless 
 floundering, trying vainly to get started. First 
 there were the colonel s shoes to be attended to. 
 Being a large, heavy man, the effect of walking 
 over cobble stones in a pair of short shoes may be 
 imagined. He had been recommended to a shoe 
 maker named Ribham, in the Calle de something 
 or other, who would build an addition on them that 
 would give his great toe surcease of sorrow. 
 Through the street of the silversmiths we went, 
 and then through the street of the shoemakers, in 
 hot pursuit of Mr. Ribham. Of course no other 
 shoemaker knew of such a man, and they all said 
 the job couldn t be done. The colonel d d them 
 in robust Anglo-Saxon for a set of pepper-eating ,, 
 leather-mangling dunderheads. He knew it could 
 be done, because an American shoemaker had told 
 him it was feasible. An American dentist had told 
 him the truth about the possibility of replanting a 
 tooth, and now he believed in the reliability of 
 American judgment in mechanical matters. Finally 
 a bright-eyed boy professed to know where Rib- 
 ham s shop was, and started to lead us thither. He 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 73 
 
 took us through another street of shoemakers, past 
 signs of the "Blue Boot, 1 and the "Pretty Little 
 Red Boot," and a score of other endearing and 
 seductive titles. As he passed each shop the lit 
 tle scoundrel would closely scan our countenances 
 as we read the signs, to see if he had stumbled on 
 the right place. Finally he boldy led us in the last 
 shop, with the confident assertion that that was the 
 place. The colonel held a quarter between his 
 thumb and finger, and was about to drop it into the 
 expectant palm of the little ruffian when he happened 
 to read an interior sign which bore the legend, " M. 
 Gradt." He held his quarter a little longer and 
 inquired for Mr. Ribham. They didn t know him 
 and had never heard of him. The colonel turned 
 on that boy, and in his usual vigorous Anglo-Saxon 
 gave him a concise " piece of his mind." He held 
 the gleaming coin up before his eyes, and impressed 
 it on his youthful mind that he should never clutch 
 it. He hated a liar. But he couldn t expect any 
 thing better of a descendant of the savages who 
 shot Maximilian. And then we started again. We 
 would go into stores and inquire if they parley- 
 voo d Francaise, or German, or English, and make 
 further inquiries for Ribham. Finally we got on 
 his trail again, and after weary wandering for a 
 half hour, and enjoying the delightful confusion 
 which comes from the Mexican system of giving a 
 street a fresh name every square or two, we found 
 Mr. Ribham s place, but, alas ! he had moved. A 
 pretty little French-speaking woman gave us accu 
 rate directions, but the colonel s dogged pertinacity 
 
74 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 was exhausted, and he acknowledged himself dead 
 beat. On our way to the hotel, however, we passed 
 another shoe shop, in the window of which was a 
 pair of slippers made of the furred skin of some 
 wild animal. The beauty of the workmanship at 
 tracted our attention, and once more we entered. 
 
 The shoemaker was an intelligent brown fellow 
 with a German wife, who talked fluent French and 
 acted as interpreter. They didn t know Ribham, 
 but on learning the nature of the job required, the 
 shoemaker unhesitatingly announced his ability to 
 do it. The colonel was delighted to find a couple 
 who had confidence in themselves, and to whom 
 he could make himself understood. He explained 
 to the madame that he had suffered inexpressible 
 "douletir" on account of those shoes, and returned 
 once or twice after having started to again impress 
 it on the shoemaker to be sure and make them 
 long enough. Our next exasperation was trying 
 to find the colored coachman who had brought us 
 from the depot, and who could speak English. We 
 had his address, but couldn t find the location, 
 and none of his accursed competitors would direct 
 us there. Finally the colonel gave one of them a 
 half dollar to go and fetch him. He did bring a 
 black fellow, but he couldn t speak a work of Eng 
 lish. Finally we got on the trail of an English 
 man named Hawthorne, who keeps a coach and 
 acts as guide, and were driven to his house in the 
 Second Providencia. He was not at home, but his 
 wife, a wholesome English woman, assured us he 
 would soon be in. She informed us that she made 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 75 
 
 the mince and mutton pies for the American and 
 English residents in the city, while her husband 
 acted as coachman and guide. Presently Haw 
 thorne himself came in a fine-looking, stalwart 
 Englishman, in a duck roundabout, corduroy trou 
 sers and cavalry boots. We soon struck a bargain 
 with him $6 per day for his coach and a Mexican 
 driver, and his own services as guide and interpre 
 ter. We kept him during the rest of our stay, and 
 the colonel was so well pleased with him that he 
 took him with him to Havana and through Central 
 America. 
 
 Having spent the greater part of the day in fum 
 ing and fretting, we concluded to utilize the re 
 mainder by making a call on Dr. Harris at his 
 suburban residence, No. 6 Buena Vista, near the 
 San Cosme gate. Taking a street-car at the plaza 
 we rode to the doctor s place, but being apprehen 
 sive that it w r as a little too early, we strolled into a 
 Jar din des Plantes just opposite, kept by an in 
 telligent German. He had flowers of all kinds, 
 and thousands of eucalyptus and fruit trees ; but 
 w r hat interested me more than anything else was 
 his display of orchids. Of these he had eighty 
 different varieties, a dozen or so of w T hich w r ere in 
 bloom. The beauty of these plants is beyond de 
 scription. They were attached to blocks of \vood, 
 each block cut from the tree which the particular 
 orchid might happen to prefer, and hung up like 
 picture frames on the wall, where they grew and 
 flourished, drawing their sustenance from the air. 
 Certainly they can get little nutriment from the 
 
76 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 dry blocks of wood to which they are attached. 
 The florist informed us that he had sent a lot of 
 these orchids to the great exposition in St. Peters 
 burg. They happened to get there in good condi 
 tion, and attracted much attention. The govern 
 ment was so well pleased that it voted him an 
 annual pension of two hundred roubles, on condi 
 tion that he would each year send a lot of orchids 
 to their exposition. Mexico is the home of the 
 orchid. In the number of varieties and the beauty 
 of individual specimens it can beat the world. In 
 the hot moist lands the more gorgeous specimens 
 are found, but the mountains are also full of them. 
 Miss Anna Harris, one of the doctor s daughters, 
 (of whom he has four) is making a painted collec 
 tion of the orchids of Mexico, and proposes to 
 publish a large book, with costly colored plates, 
 descriptive of them. She is a talented artist; in 
 fact three of the doctor s daughter s are painters, 
 one excelling in portraits, the other in landscapes, 
 while Anna s genius has its best field in the accu 
 rate and faithful representation of plants and flow 
 ers. The work will be large and costly, but no 
 professional or amateur florist in Europe or Amer 
 ica can afford to be without it, and every lover of 
 flowers will want it. 
 
 In strolling about the florist s grounds we found 
 some gnarled and twisted trees which looked as if 
 they might have been sturdy saplings when the 
 Aztecs founded their capital. The colonel, who 
 has seen olive trees in Syria, Spain, Italy and 
 France, was quite sure they were olives. I picked 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 77 
 
 up some of the fruit which lay under one of them, 
 and bit into one of the specimens to see what a fresh 
 
 olive tasted like. I ll never do it again. It was a 
 
 & 
 
 blasted olive, and I spat and sputtered for the rest 
 of the day in the vain effort to get the taste out of 
 my mouth. It was like a pill of socotrine aloes 
 and quinine, with a little tallow to make it hang 
 together. The member of the Kentucky legisla 
 ture who offered a .$25 reward at the Gait House 
 for the man who salted "them plums" w r as not 
 half so disgusted. A little further on we found 
 about ten bushels of olives spread out to cure for 
 the oil press. The colonel assured me that these, 
 which had not been stung by the curculio, were 
 not bitter and I took his word for it. After hav 
 ing exhausted the attractions of the florist s we 
 crossed over to the doctor s, and a venerable Mex 
 ican who had been twenty-five vears in his service 
 answered a punch of the pneumatic bell from the 
 colonel s cane. The doctor lives in a beautiful 
 place, embowered in flowers, embellished with 
 fountains, and ornamented with eucalyptus and 
 other trees. There were great beds of violets that 
 loaded the air with their delicate perfume, and 
 roses everywhere. The Mexican roses, however, 
 have no smell. The house is Spanish in exterior 
 thick walls, flat roofs, cream-colored stucco, 
 grated windows and all but in the interior it is 
 American. It has grates and chimneys, carpets 
 and American furniture. The doctor is one of 
 those Mexicanized foreigners who spend half their 
 leisure time in eulogizing the Mexican climate and 
 
78 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 the other half in putting on and oft their overcoats 
 and shawls. Eternal vigilance in hunting drafts 
 has made him as nervous and excitable as a wo 
 man. If there is anything he hates worse than a 
 draft it is a forced loan. He says he came to Mex 
 ico to recover his health, and to escape the hurly- 
 burly of American life, and, as the fellow who 
 tried the whistling cure for stammering jerked out 
 between whistles, "you can see, stranger, it has 
 done it. 1 
 
 About five years of the twenty-seven he has lived 
 in Mexico have been spent in a state of siege, with 
 contending factions holding different sections of 
 the city, and firing six pounders at each other from 
 the towers of the churches. There would be an 
 intermission until ten o clock every morning for 
 the people to go to market, and then the signal 
 gun would warn all the non-combatants to hunt 
 their holes, and trouble w r ould begin again. Six 
 months of this calm and restful existence was 
 enough to make one forget the hurly-burly of 
 American life, and we saw the good effects of it 
 in Dr. Harris. He reminded me of nothing so 
 much as that excitable piece of fireworks called a 
 serpent, which jerks itself in forty different direc 
 tions in as many seconds. One morning while the 
 doctor was up on the roof of his house, building a 
 furnace to be used in his profession of dentistry, he 
 observed a Mexican soldier in a neighboring tower 
 regarding him with an unusual degree of interest. 
 The fighting was going on all around him, but the 
 doctor paid no attention, for they generally re- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 79 
 
 spected non-combatants ; but the intentness of this 
 iellow s stare finally suggested to him that he had 
 better retire. Before he had time to carry put this 
 determination, the soldier raised his rifle, and sent 
 an ounce of lead whizzing through his hair. Oh, 
 this Mexican life is very restful. 
 
 We had some music from the girls, examined 
 their paintings, strolled through the grounds, and 
 spent an agreeable afternoon. The colonel was so 
 delighted with a Mexican song called " Las Penas 
 de Corazon " (Pains of the Heart) that he pre 
 vailed upon the girls to sing it again, and the next 
 day hunted it down to send to a lady friend in 
 London. It is a peculiar composition, the music 
 wailing, and the words hot as Mexican chile. We 
 left Dr. Harris s with the impression that he has a 
 little local paradise of his own, but that we would 
 not care to live in it. The high walls surrounding 
 the grounds and the barred windows are all too 
 suggestive of a prison. At six o clock the faith 
 ful servant is sent home, the gates closed, the 
 drawbridge lowered, and until three o clock the 
 next afternoon nobody can get in. They may ring 
 the bell to all eternity, but nobody will respond. 
 This restful life of Mexico has its little drawbacks. 
 
 The Mexican women of the lower strata have 
 three great industries rubbing corn into paste for 
 tortillas, peddling lottery tickets and washing 
 clothes. The corn for the tortillas is first soaked in 
 alkaline water to soften it and remove the husk, and 
 is then rubbed on a flat stone, with a stone pestle 
 held in both hands like a rolling pin, until it is con- 
 
8O TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 verted into soft pulp, in which condition it is spread 
 into thin cukes and baked without salt. The re 
 sult is the tortilla plain and simple, a tough flap 
 jack which a hungry man would be culpable to 
 throw over his shoulder, but which a well-fed gringo 
 is not apt to hanker after. The tortilla enchilada is 
 a plain tortilla embellished with a compound of pep 
 per, tomatoes and garlic, and made into a conve 
 nient roll. Making tortilla paste seems to be a so 
 cial and gregarious employment, or it may be that 
 certain establishments keep the tools, and rent them 
 for a price. At least I always found from one to a 
 dozen women in every room where the preparation 
 of the corn was going on, all rubbing for dear life, 
 and rubbing with care. Lottery selling is done on 
 a commission, and the sellers, both male and fe 
 male, confront you at every turn. The wailing cry 
 of " jQuatro mil pesos ! " is eternally ringing in your 
 ears. Everybody buys lottery tickets. These peo 
 ple are so very poor, and their condition is so ut 
 terly hopeless, that one can scarcely blame them for 
 seizing even upon the most desperate chance of 
 emerging from it. One day a rather good-looking- 
 young woman, whose audacity had been reinforced 
 by numerous draughts of pulque, tackled me in the 
 street, and begged a medid " for the love of God." 
 On being asked what she wanted with it, she inno 
 cently replied, " To buy a lottery ticket." Such 
 refreshing candor was not to be resisted ; I hope 
 she drew one-sixteenth of the capital prize. Na 
 tives complain that foreigners, who buy tickets just 
 for the fun of the thing and don t need the money, 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 8 1 
 
 draw all the big prizes another instance of the 
 cruelty and capriciousness of fate. The washing is 
 mostly done in the open air. You see hundreds of 
 women strung along the banks of the ditches and 
 canals engaged in this laborious work, while their 
 naked children, with round staring eyes and pro 
 truding abdomens, roll in the dust. The women 
 sit on their knees on the bank, reach forward and 
 dip the clothes in the water, and then rub them on 
 a flat stone. No more painful and uncomfortable 
 position could be devised, but your Mexican is aw 
 fully conservative, and very much in favor of doing 
 everything as it has been done for the last five hun 
 dred years. The surface of the water in all these 
 ditches is completely covered with a purple conferva* 
 while the banks are hideously filthy, and the legs 
 of an occasional dead dog or cat are seen sticking 
 up through the scum ; but beneath, the water is 
 found comparatively clear. Besides the women 
 engaged in these three leading industries many of 
 them compete with the men in their capacity of 
 beasts of burden, and carry loads that would 
 make a pack-mule groan. Not infrequently you see 
 a slender w r oman carrying a pannier full of fruit 
 on her back, with a child tied up in her rcbosa in 
 front, and maybe a full basket on one arm. The 
 rebosa is a long wide scarf which the Mexican wo 
 men wind about the head and across the bosom, 
 thus making it answer the purpose of both shawl 
 and hat. Almost every woman you meet either 
 carries a baby swung in the folds of her shawl or 
 else shows that she is in the line of promotion. 
 6 
 
82 TRIP TO MKXICO. 
 
 Girls who seem but children themselves have babies 
 of which thev are proud, though perhaps it would 
 be difficult to muster a husband for inspection if 
 suddenly called on. Women of the middle class 
 seem to have little to do but sit at the windows in 
 the afternoon, embroider a little, gabble a good 
 deal, look demure and flirt with any audacious 
 gringo who may kiss his hand to them. 
 
 The women of the upper class dress themselves 
 in gorgeous array in the afternoon, put on a be 
 wildering quantity of laces and diamonds, and shut 
 themselves in close carriages to be driven along 
 the paseo, past the statues of King Charles and 
 Christopher Columbus, on the Chapultepec road, 
 then to turn and go over the ground two or three 
 times more. Women of high social position are 
 usually attended by wonderful masculine creatures 
 of the genus caballero. One soon learns in Mex 
 ico to address a working man as hombre, and to 
 call a man in a higher walk of life Senor. But 
 when you want to be particularly deferential, it is 
 " the cheese" to call him caballero. The caballero 
 of the pasco is a gaily-bedizened creature. He is 
 dressed in the extremest agony of the national cos 
 tume gold-corded jacket and slashed pantaloons, 
 \vith buttons of silver ; tremendous sombrero, with 
 its awful band of gold cord ; saddle and bridle 
 richly ornamented with gold and silver, and a keen 
 rapier in a buff leather scabbard at his side. He 
 can ride well, and could fight a bull in the ring, 
 but his principal use is to gallop alongside of my 
 lady s carriage, and talk at her through the open 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 83 
 
 window. That rapier inspires a gringo with whole 
 some respect. The caballcro is chivalric in his 
 bearing, and his mouth, an occasional glimpse of 
 which crops out from beneath his waxed mustache, 
 has a chronic set, indicative of a high order of per 
 sonal courage. But I understand that when one 
 of these bravos has occasion to travel in a dili 
 gence, he puts on the plainest apparel, divests him 
 self of his ultimate weapon, and when called upon 
 by the brigands to " shell out," lies flat on his face 
 while they go through him. If they can attach 
 themselves to a party of Englishmen or Americans, 
 however, with Winchester rifles and the nerve to 
 use them, they go through with flying colors. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE church power is thoroughly broken in Mex 
 ico. What Juarez began in the confiscation of* 
 church property Lerdo finished in the expulsion of 
 the Sisters of Charity. The latter measure strikes 
 even the Protestant conscience as a hard, brutal 
 expedient, but it was probably needed to complete 
 the work that Juarez began. As the women of the 
 South kept the fires of rebellion in full blaze long 
 after the men would have faltered and fainted, so 
 did these saint-like fanatics keep alive in the hearts 
 of the common people a dangerous spirit of resist 
 ance to the encroachments of the government on 
 
84 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 what they deem sacred things. In no country on 
 earth is there greater freedom of religious thought 
 and action than in the large cities of Mexico at the 
 present time. To such an extent has the revolu 
 tion been carried that religious processions are for 
 bidden by law, and the priesthood are prohibited 
 from appearing in public in the peculiar costume 
 black gown and immense shovel hat which they 
 used to wear. In the olden time the common people 
 Avould prostrate themselves in the dust when a pro 
 cession passed, and the foreigner who didn t get 
 down of his own accord was pretty apt to be 
 knocked down ; but now no body pays any more 
 attention to a priest than to any other man. They 
 generally wear a plug hat and long circular cloak 
 of black cloth, with the right skirt thrown over the 
 left shoulder. Some of the younger of them pre 
 sent a rather jaunty appearance. The first I saw r 
 I mistook for a lawyer ; the next I put down as a 
 monte dealer, while the third, who was older and 
 fatter, I was sure was a cabinet minister. The 
 priests are poor now. The churches have been 
 despoiled of their magnificent revenues, and the 
 priests no longer get any assistance from the state ; 
 but thev stick manfully to the work. The com 
 mon people seem to be very devout. You rarely 
 enter a church that you don t rind scores of poor 
 laborers, many of them not having clothes enough 
 on them "to wad a shot-gun," kneeling before 
 the shrine of their favorite saint, and pouring out 
 their starved and stunted souls in an intensity of 
 devotion which seems incomprehensible to us bar- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 05 
 
 barians of the north when unassociated with the 
 excitement of the Methodist mourner s bench. In 
 this silent worship the devotee has none of the 
 spurs that are necessary with us to goad the slug 
 gish fancy into a canter. There is no pealing of 
 the organ, no eloquent exhortation from the lips of 
 the minister. Having delivered his load of char 
 coal or fruit, the peon drops in on his way home, 
 gets upon his knees, and for a quarter of an hour 
 is oblivious of everything save his worship. As 
 you sit and watch this human beast of burden with 
 his clasped hands, closed eyes and lips in tremu 
 lous motion, you may believe him ignorant and 
 fanatical, but you cannot believe him insincere or 
 hypocritical. 
 
 Everywhere we mingled with these people at 
 their devotions. We strove to avoid offense as 
 much as possible, but through ignorance we doubt 
 less shocked them many times by an apparent 
 want of reverence for what they consider sacred. 
 But beyond a pained and hurt look now and then, 
 they made no sign. It is not likely that a party 
 of Mexicans, having as little veneration for our 
 religion as we had for theirs, could take the same 
 liberties in our churches, without unpleasant con 
 sequences. So far as I could see, the Methodists 
 are becoming the most intolerant and arrogant of 
 all sects in Mexico. They are determined to 
 make the most of the "religious toleration" which 
 has been established. They are aggressive, and 
 they push their outposts into the interior. Every 
 now and then they appeal to the government for 
 
86 
 
 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 protection. We called upon Dr. Butler, the gen- 
 eral-in-chief of the proselyting army. He could 
 give us but little time, as he had an appointment 
 with President Diaz at three o clock. On the suc 
 ceeding Sunday a new church was to be dedica 
 ted in a neighboring village, and the "fanatics" 
 had announced that if dedicated at all it would be 
 dedicated in " torrents of blood." The local au 
 thorities had been appealed to, but declined to act, 
 and the doctor had carried the matter to the Pres 
 ident himself. It was quite inspiriting to witness 
 the gusto with which the oily old gentleman told 
 of the troubles in his "little church around the 
 mountain." He rubbed his hands together enthu 
 siastically as he dwelt on the "torrents of blood," 
 and manifested a holy impatience to be skinned 
 and scalped in the Master s service. For my part 
 I didn t take the least bit of stock in the " torrents 
 of blood." From what I had seen of the stolidity 
 of the average Mexican "fanatic," and his gen 
 erally subdued and broken-down demeanor in 
 religious and political matters, I didn t believe he 
 could be kicked into a revolt. So far as I could 
 learn but little real progress has been made in 
 proselyting Mexicans. Some adult converts have 
 been gathered into the fold, but a converted Mexi 
 can has about the same numerical value as a con 
 verted Jew, and we all know how to rate the 
 latter. Numerous orphans have been educated in 
 Methodism, and they are sincere believers. But 
 honest adult converts are scarcer than hen teeth. 
 You might as well try to change the color of a 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 87 
 
 Mexican s skin as his religion, and with due de 
 ference to Dr. Butler, I do not think it is desirable 
 to change his religion. Catholicism can do more 
 for savage people than protestantism, and the 
 lower class of Mexicans are still at least half sav 
 age. Some of the means employed to gain a 
 "foothold for Christ" are at least questionable. 
 On the wall of the palace fronting the plaza are 
 two large blackboards, and every morning there 
 appears upon them a tirade against the Catholic 
 religion, written with chalk in a clear, legible 
 hand. Multitudes of the lower classes stop and 
 read these bulletins. Some read and pass on 
 without making any sign : others read and scowl ; 
 while some smile scornfully. No hostile demon 
 stration is ever made. 
 
 But is it right to trample the religious prejudices 
 of this people under foot in this offensive manner ? 
 Is it not a shameful abuse of toleration ? If at some 
 future time, when public sentiment is more inflam 
 mable, there should be a mob in the city of Mexico, 
 and a massacre of protestants by the infuriated 
 populace, there will arise a terrible howl from 
 every protestant pulpit in the land. I would be 
 shocked, along with the rest of my protestant 
 brethren, but I wouldn t be much surprised. There 
 is nothing in the world that ignorant people hold 
 so dear as their religious beliefs, and nothing for 
 which they will shed blood so cheerfully. If I had 
 my way I would enjoy my own religious belief and 
 let every other man enjoy his. I would discour- 
 
88 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 age meddlers in religion as well as in everything 
 else. 
 
 As the question of recognizing the Diaz govern 
 ment is still undetermined, perhaps the deductions 
 drawn from our necessarily superficial observations 
 may not be uninteresting. Porfirio Diaz, like Ju 
 arez, is an Indian not a full blood, perhaps, but 
 much more of an Indian than a Castilian. In his 
 younger days he was a pretty hard case one of 
 the church robbers of the Juarez administration. 
 It is alleged of him that he had church jewels of 
 great value set in the backs of the wooden chairs 
 which formed a part of the rude furniture of his 
 unpretentious dwelling, the walls of which were 
 adorned with priceless pictures acquired in the 
 same manner. But he is undoubtedly the best 
 soldier in Mexico since Miguel Miramon " tum 
 bled " to the racket of his indignant countrymen, 
 along with Maximilian, on that fine June morning 
 in 1867 a fact indubitably proved by the masterly 
 manner in which he hustled Lerdo out of the 
 country in the late unpleasantness. The more 
 moderate people of the old church party now give 
 Diaz the credit of being honest, and it is gener 
 ally admitted that he has attained a nearer ap 
 proach to order throughout the republic than any 
 recent president has done. He aims to conciliate, 
 while at the same time the iron hand is felt beneath 
 the velvet glove. Regiments of troops in the most 
 startling variety of uniforms are kept moving from 
 point to point about the capital, while all the neigh 
 boring towns are full of armed men. You are 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 89 
 
 never out of hearing of the ear-torturing Mexican 
 bugle. The soldiers are generally a hard-looking 
 set, but they are armed with modern weapons, well 
 drilled, and, under the comparatively strict disci 
 pline maintained, will fight. If the malcontents of 
 the Rio Grande border succeed in their nefarious 
 designs of involving us in another war with Mex 
 ico, it wAl not be such a "walk over" as Scott 
 and Taylor found it. 
 
 The arrrry is paid regularly ; everybody in the 
 government service is paid ; and there is money in 
 the treasury a fact almost without precedent in 
 Mexican history. The poor people like Diaz bet 
 ter than any ruler they have had since Maximilian, 
 and for the same reason they liked the blonde em 
 peror because he gives them security, hears their 
 complaints and endeavors to have justice done them. 
 The public voice is almost unanimous in saying that 
 Diaz is the best president they have had for many a 
 year, but you can t alwavs trust the public voice in 
 Mexico. Generally the fellow who is in, is "the 
 best ruler they ever had," and even while they are 
 praising him they may be preparing to blow him 
 out of the country. Some, while admitting that 
 Diaz is honest, say he is surrounded by the same 
 stripe of turbulent adventurers who have kept the re 
 public in a tumult ever since it had an existence, and 
 that they will conspire against him as soon as they 
 see, or think they see, an opportunity of furthering 
 their own selfish ends by so doing. As far as sta 
 bility is concerned, the Diaz government seems 
 strong. There is more security for life and prop- 
 
90 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 erty than there has been for years. Indeed it would 
 
 / J 
 
 be hard to find a quieter or more orderly place in 
 any country than the city of Mexico. Just why 
 there should be any hesitation about recognizing 
 Diaz as president of a country in which fronuncia- 
 mentos are as plenty as thistles, and change is the 
 rule, is a conundrum ; but influences have been at 
 work to retard such recognition. To me the Chris 
 tian name of the president always had a disagreea 
 ble sound. It reminds me of "perfidious." Sin 
 gularly enough, the common people give the " r" 
 the sound of k d," and call him "Porfidio." 
 
 Much of the mercantile business of the city of 
 Mexico is carried on by Germans. There are 
 many French and few Americans in business. 
 There are not over forty English-speaking resi 
 dents. Major DeGress, of the Armeria Americana, 
 does a flourishing business in the sale of pistols, 
 carbines, swords and other cutlery. Many of the 
 pistols are enriched with a barbaric profusion of gold 
 and silver ornaments, and are sold to the brigands 
 of the mountain roads, who get their money easily 
 and part with it freely. The major says his shop 
 is an unfailing barometer of the public feeling. 
 When everything is quiet he sells pistols to the 
 common people and dandy swords to the gallants 
 of the paseo. When trouble is brewing there is a 
 brisk sale of carbines. The bulk of the trade of 
 Mexico ought to be done by Americans, but they 
 have permitted the Germans and French to cut un 
 der them. There are about four hundred German 
 residents in the city, and the effect of their monop- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 9! 
 
 oly of so rich a field is shown in a change of char 
 acter which is quite in contrast to the staid, thrifty 
 Teuton of the States. The Mexicanized German 
 is "on the hurrah." He gets drunklike an Amer 
 ican, buys champagne by the basket, and scatters 
 his money with a reckless profusion which would 
 keep his own father from knowing him. 
 
 We visited the German club house under the 
 lead of Mr. Nieth, and found it an immense estab 
 lishment, with all the club features. They drink 
 a great deal of Anheuser s St. Louis beer at fifty 
 cents a bottle, but it is not so good in its imported 
 condition as the native beer at a real. The jewelry 
 stores, the dry good stores, the tobacco shops and 
 many other establishments, all have a gay Parisian 
 look. Indeed there is a good deal of luxury in 
 this city of poverty. At the Monte de Piedad 
 the government pawn-shop we saw bushels and 
 bushels of diamonds and other precious stones and 
 valuables of many kinds. It is said that many of the 
 first families put the family carriage in paw^n when 
 they want to redeem their diamonds to attend a 
 party, and then repawn the diamonds to release 
 the carriage. Many valuables are left here for 
 safe keeping. Money is loaned on long time at a 
 low rate of interest. The Monte de Piedad is the 
 only institution of Mexico that has not at some 
 time been robbed. All the various revolutions 
 have spared it. It is true that Lerdo, just before 
 he ingloriously ran away in the night, leaving the 
 city to the victorious Diaz, "lifted" $25,000 out 
 of it, but he claimed that it belonged to the govern- 
 
92 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 ment. They say that this institution loans at a 
 lower rate of interest than other establishments, 
 but nobody could tell me why the common people 
 patronize the hundreds of low pawn-shops which 
 confront you on every street in preference to the 
 Monte de Piedad when they want to raise a medio 
 to buy a lottery ticket. I suspect that the Piedad 
 is too "toney" for them. These low pawn-shops 
 are good places for the study of Mexican nature. 
 Nobody is so poor but he has something to pawn, 
 and articles are received and money loaned on 
 them which our " starving poor " would not pick 
 up in the street. 
 
 Quite naturally I was interested in the newspa 
 pers of Mexico. There are plenty of them, but 
 they are, typographically and editorially, queer 
 specimens. They have neither local nor tele 
 graphic news to speak of, but are ponderous in the 
 way of "leader" and literary lore. The absence 
 of local news is a distressing feature. You scan 
 their pages in vain for accounts of fires, murders, 
 public meetings, reviews of troops, political meet 
 ings, court reports, or any other events which with 
 us go to make up the local columns. A bull fight, 
 if it is a good one, is eulogized to the extent of a 
 dozen lines. If a poor one, the Monitor of Mon 
 day will dismiss it with a paragraph like the fol 
 lowing : "The bull fight at Tlalnepanlta on 
 yesterday was mala malissima" There are no 
 theatrical criticisms, no notices of coming events. 
 The editors sit in their offices two or three hours a 
 day, and evolve from their seething brains incon- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 93 
 
 sequential paragraphs about nothing in particular. 
 They do manage to collect a little news from the 
 interior, either by working over their exchanges or 
 interviewing the drivers of the diligences, but if 
 anything ever happens in the city it is studiously 
 suppressed. Events in which the President takes 
 a part, like the distribution of prizes at the Acad 
 emy of Arts, are briefly noticed, but a last year s 
 almanac answers the purpose of an " abstract and 
 brief chronicle of the times" quite as well as a 
 Mexican daily, fresh from tht press. 
 
 After we had been three weeks away from home 
 without hearing anything from the outside world, I 
 began to be a little anxious about the war in Eu 
 rope, the silver bill, Hayes policy and other mat 
 ters ; so I took to the Mexican papers in search of 
 telegraphic ne\vs. I kne\v that there was a tele 
 graphic line from the United States to the city 
 by way of Matamoras, and remembered to have 
 seen a boast in one of the Mexican papers of having 
 published a dispatch from St. Petersburg which 
 came through in one day. For four days I looked 
 in vain. On the fifth, patient perseverance was re 
 warded. In the Diario I found two dispatches of 
 about three lines each. One was from London, 
 announcing that the relations between England 
 and Russia were still "cordial," and the other 
 chronicled a tremendous fire in Greenville, Missis 
 sippi, in which a country store and a dwelling 
 house were licked up by the "devouring element." 
 The patronage of the Mexican papers is limited. 
 The Monitor, which is the leading "independent" 
 
94 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 paper, boasts of the enormous circulation of 2,500, 
 and is admitted on all hands to be the most popu 
 lar and influential journal in the republic. Adver 
 tising patronage is small. A newspaper is the 
 last place to look for information about anything. 
 The book and pamphlet publishing business, how 
 ever, is better. Much of the information, which in 
 the United States seeks an outlet through the 
 newspapers, in Mexico, finds its way to the public 
 through the medium of a book or pamphlet. 
 
 The newsboy has no existence in Mexico. Oc 
 casionally a man is encountered wailing forth the 
 information that he has the Monitor for sale, but 
 when you want a newspaper, as a general thing, 
 you have to get out a search warrant before you can 
 find it. The Socialista I accidentally stumbled on 
 one morning while taking chocolate in a third-class 
 fonda. Its editorials are of the jerky character, 
 which seems peculiar to journals devoted to the 
 rights of man. The number I saw sneered at 
 " strong governments," and demanded to know if 
 workingmen were slaves. I encountered the " iron 
 heel " of despotism tw r o or three times within a col 
 umn, and then butted against a word which I 
 couldn t make out. It was used in connection with 
 " capitalist," and I am sure it must have been the 
 Spanish equivalent for "bloated." As I sat there 
 sipping the delicious chocolate, which is found no 
 where save in Mexico, and nibbling at the roll of 
 light, sweet bread, a contented, home-like feeling 
 stole over me. The Two Republics is an excellent 
 paper considering its opportunities. It is published 
 by Major George W. Clarke, one of the incorrig- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 95 
 
 ible southern refugees, who had to come to Mexico 
 to get reconciled to the old flag. The Shakespearean 
 Bugle is a manuscript paper, published by the 
 American and English literary society. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 EVERY American who visits Mexico must see at 
 least one bull fight. He never wants to see an 
 other unless for the purpose of assuring himself 
 that it is just like the first. P. had witnessed the 
 noble sport in Mexico thirty years ago. The col 
 onel had seen bull fights in Madrid. I alone had 
 the new sensation in store for me. Large posters, 
 announcing a bull fight at Tlalnepantla, the pro 
 ceeds to be devoted to the " payment of the Amer 
 ican indemnity," covered the walls. It was further 
 announced that President Diaz would be present. 
 A balloon ascension served to inflate the attrac 
 tions. As the fight would come off in the after 
 noon, we determined to put in the forenoon in a 
 drive up the canal. The day was all that could be 
 desired clear, cloudless and balmy and as we 
 drove through the southeastern gate, and took our 
 way alongside of that wonderful canal, the history 
 of which was a matter of vague tradition when the 
 Spaniards first visited the capital, I never felt a 
 keener sense of purely physical enjoyment. This 
 canal is probably forty feet broad but shallow. It 
 
96 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 connects Lake Chalco with the city, and is used 
 for irrigation and for the transportation of produce. 
 On this bright Sunday morning it teemed with busy 
 life. Hundreds of -flat-bottomed boats, loaded with 
 great stacks of green clover, fruits, vegetables and 
 poultry, dotted its surface, being "poled" along 
 by bare-legged natives, in the old-fashioned keel- 
 boat style, while here and there some velvet-jack 
 eted and bell-buttoned ranchero lolled lazily in the 
 stern of a more luxurious gondola, propelled by a 
 half-naked peon. A courteous salute startles the 
 hidalgo out of his lazy dream, and with a precipi 
 tance which is almost indecorous, he removes the 
 cigarette from his lips, lifts the broad-brimmed and 
 heavily-silvered sombrero, and returns our greet 
 ing with an effusive politeness that is almost lu 
 dicrous. 
 
 The roadside is dotted with villages, some of 
 them very neat and clean, and all of them having 
 the inevitable church, its tiled dome glistening in 
 the bright sunshine, and its floors crowded with 
 kneeling worshipers. Now and then a peripatetic 
 butcher shop, consisting of a little jackass and a 
 saddle, above which is an iron framework, upon 
 each of its half-dozen hooks hanging a sheep or a 
 quarter of beef, goes by, the driver jogging along 
 behind the patient little quadruped. The country 
 is in a high state of cultivation, and a piece of 
 ground but little bigger than. a Brightwood lot 
 is made to support scores of men and beasts. 
 We come to a point where a Mexican warns us 
 that the carriage can proceed no further on ac- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 97 
 
 count of a broken bridge. Our driver accuses 
 him of having purposely " fixed " the bridge. He 
 calls upon all the saints to witness that he did 
 nothing of the kind, but a cunning leer in his 
 eyes gives color to our guide s accusations. It is 
 a common practice, we learn, for the shrewd de 
 scendants of Montezuma to play these little tricks, 
 so as to get a chance to hire their boats. A dicker 
 is made with him for transportation, and soon we 
 are in one of the broad-bottomed boats, and being 
 poled rapidly up the canal. By and by we come 
 to the famous "floating gardens." If they ever 
 did float they no longer do so. Possibly they 
 shake beneath the tread in the rainy season, for 
 this entire valley is a morass ; but in the dry sea 
 son they are solid. There are merely bits of real 
 estate, probably fifty feet wide and two hundred 
 long, surrounded by ditches wide enough to ena 
 ble the proprietor to circumnavigate them in his 
 canoe. We are amazed at the luxuriance of veg 
 etation. The freshness and greenness of things 
 remembering that the month is January, and in 
 our own country is ice and snow is a tireless won 
 der. As we pass, some of the laborers are irrigat 
 ing by throwing water over their plats with a 
 wooden shovel, and some are picking vegetables 
 for market ; for in this country labor never ceases 
 with the poor, except, possibly, on feast days. By 
 and by we come to a large meadow full of cattle, 
 in which some half-dozen Mexicans, in full cos 
 tume, are practicing with the lasso. It is a sight 
 we have longed to see, and so the boat is landed, 
 7 
 
98 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 and we start across the lield to attain a point for 
 closer observation. The expertness of the Mexi 
 cans in throwing ihe lasso has often been chroni 
 cled, and has been but little exaggerated. It is a 
 deadly weapon in the hands of the robber, as well 
 as an expert means of discipline in the hands off the 
 herdsman. These fellows would select a bullock 
 from the herd they w r ere all moderately fat and 
 in good condition for keeping up their part of the 
 sport and then the fun would begin. While at 
 full gallop a lasso would be thrown around the 
 bullock s horns, and simultaneously another would 
 fasten on a hind leg. The sudden jerk would turn 
 him a summersault on the grass. Rapidly releas 
 ing the ropes by stooping from the saddle at full 
 gallop, the beast would be started and thrown 
 again, the riders all the time keeping up a fire of 
 jeering epithets. Finally when he was worn out, 
 another victim would be selected., and the same 
 programme gone through* with. We watched the 
 game until it began to get monotonous. A sug 
 gestion to retire was somewhat accelerated by the 
 interest a vicious black bullock began to take in 
 our party. He had been lassoed until he was 
 disgusted, but, having recovered from the rattling 
 they had given him, he fancied he saw in our dis 
 mounted party an opportunity for getting even. 
 With many pawings, and scrapings, and angry 
 tossings of his head, he began to approach. We 
 retired, judiciously, but with considerable celerity, 
 a fortunate trend of the lassoing party in the direc- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 99 
 
 tion of our bovine friend having made a diversion 
 
 O 
 
 in our favor. 
 
 In the boat once more we were poled back to the 
 point where the carriage had been left, at the lit 
 tle village of Yxtacalco, where Hawthorne had 
 made arrangements for a Mexican breakfast. 
 
 The feeding at the restaurants is all French, and 
 the dishes peculiar to the country are not to be had 
 except on special order. While waiting for break 
 fast we strolled into a -pulque shop, gaily bediz 
 ened with painted figures before which the gaudy 
 coloring of the she Justices of the Peace in our own 
 two-million court house would pale their ineffectual 
 fires. Among the decorations was a gorgeously- 
 dressed female in short dancing costume holding 
 out a glass to a frisking goat, with the invitation : 
 " Tomo hijo tu -pulquito ?" The goat seems to hold 
 the same place in relation .to Mexican -pulque that 
 he does with us in celebrating the peculiar proper 
 ties of bock beer. A Mexican colonel, with some 
 of the inferior officers, had selected this point for a 
 Sunday picnic, and an advanced force of privates 
 had been all morning busily engaged in decorating 
 a neighboring shed with flowers and streamers for 
 the fandango. By and by the procession came up 
 the canal two large flat-bottomed boats, with a 
 brass band in active eruption. The colonel, black 
 and burly, sat on a sort of raised platform, sur 
 rounded by his seraglio, and the other officers, 
 each attended by their female partners, were near 
 him. The band landed first, formed in two lines, 
 and through the lane, under a triumphal arch dec- 
 
IOO TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 orated with flowers, the colonel and his invited 
 guests passed. It was a gay party. 
 
 By and by our own breakfast was brought, and 
 with keenly whetted appetites we sat down to it. 
 There was rice in Mexican fashion ; an omelet ;. 
 wild ducks, with their broad bills and feet left on 
 to prove it ; tortillas enchilada, very hot ; a capon 
 with sauce of chile mulata, very black, and still 
 hotter ; bread of the country and fruit. The bread 
 of the country is sweet but a little heavy not 
 nearly so good as the delicious French bread we 
 get at the restaurants. Among the fruits were the 
 avocado pear, a pear-shaped, marrowy substance, 
 which makes not a bad substitute for butter. 
 
 It was two o clock when we returned to the city, 
 after a most delightful morning. Tlalnepantla, 
 where the bull fight was to take place, is nine 
 miles out. A train of twenty-eight street cars con 
 veyed the people to the suburbs, where a steam en 
 gine took charge of the train. The cars were 
 crowded, and a great many w r ent in carriages, 
 while thousands of the poorer classes walked. The 
 admittance was one dollar on the shady side, fifty 
 cents in the sun. I told the gate-keeper that I was 
 an American, and as the fight was for the benefit 
 of the American indemnity, I would just remit 
 my portion of the indemnity and say no more 
 about it if he would remit the entrance fee, but he 
 said it wasn t visible to the Castilian eye. So I 
 contributed my dollar to the American indemnity, 
 and passed in, where a new and strange scene 
 opened out before me. The amphitheater is ex- 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. IOI 
 
 actly like that of the old-fashioned Kentucky fair, 
 -except that a wooden wall protects the spectators 
 from the onslaughts of the bull. 
 
 About five thousand people were inside. On 
 the sunny side were gathered the riff-raff of Mex 
 ico, while on the more aristocratic side were to 
 be seen many richly-dressed ladies with opera- 
 glasses, and well-dressed gentlemen. Peddlers 
 passed constantly through the rows of seats, selling 
 plumes of colored paper, sweets, fruit, fulque and 
 other refreshments. An old-fashioned fire bal 
 loon, about half inflated, was swaying to and fro 
 in the arena. It was getting late, and the crowd 
 was becoming impatient. Hoarse cries of "El 
 Toro!" rent the air, while thousands of throats, 
 which seemed as if ready to split with the tension, 
 demanded that "El Globo" should be instantly 
 taken out. They did not care a cent for the bal 
 loon ascension, but were impatient for the blood 
 and entrails of the bull fight. The uproar became 
 demoniac. Well-dressed gentlemen on the shady 
 side of the amphitheater roared themselves hoarse. 
 By and by the aeronaut came out and inspected 
 the balloon. If he had ever intended to make an 
 ascension, it was now evident that the enterprise 
 was a failure. He turned to seek cover again. 
 Just at this point an orange, well-aimed and flying 
 at a high velocity, smashed itself on his bullet 
 head. He stood not on the order of his going, but 
 went at once. The crowd roared with laughter. 
 Then the attendants began to clear the balloon 
 away. Oranges, bananas, pomegranates, bits of 
 
IO2 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 sugar-cane and sweet turnips began to fly like 
 hail. Then the little fragile earthen pitchers, used 
 to peddle -pulqtie began to follow, and by and by 
 missiles of a more dangerous character. The 
 boys engaged in clearing a\vay the balloon and 
 the furnace used to inflate it, took the storm of 
 missiles good-humoredly. When anything hit 
 them, they looked to see the nature of the pro 
 jectile. If it was an orange, or anything eatable, 
 they chased it and stowed it away. If something 
 solider and more indigestible, they simply rubbed 
 the sore place and went on with their work. By 
 and by, some murderous wretch threw a heavy 
 brandy bottle and hit a little boy on the shoulder. 
 Had it hit him in the back of the head it would 
 certainly have killed him. A fulque pitcher 
 smashed itself on the head of a full-grown fellow, 
 very black and with an evil countenance. His- 
 white teeth gleamed as he turned to the point from 
 whence the projectile had come, and with features 
 distorted with rage that seemed truly infernal, he 
 broke out in a storm of obscene abuse. He was 
 greeted with a roar of derisive laughter and a 
 shower of missiles. Dodging the pots and bottles, 
 he rammed his hand in his pocket as if to clench 
 a pistol, and made believe he was going to shoot. 
 The audience responded with more missiles, and 
 he finally found it so hot that he had to bolt. At 
 this point the trumpet sounded, and an instanta 
 neous hush fell upon the turbulent assembly. 
 There seemed to be some difficulty in getting the 
 rst bull out of the chute, but he finally came with 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 1 03 
 
 a bound, stopped in the middle of the arena, and 
 took an astonished survey of the situation. 
 
 He was a little brown fellow, and did not seem to 
 be particularly vicious. But the sight of the mul 
 titude, the banderillos and picadors, began to tell 
 on him, and he indicated his displeasure by a vig 
 orous pawing of the earth. A banderillo ap 
 proached him, and shook a banner in his face. He 
 made a vicious lunge, which was easily dodged. 
 A picador, mounted on a sixty-cent horse whose 
 flanks were protected by leathern armor, now ap 
 proached him. The bull made a lunge at the 
 horse s flank, and was caught on the point of a 
 pike. The sharp pain was more than he bargained 
 for. He went tearing around the ring like mad, 
 occasionally making a lunge at one of the banderil 
 los. Then the darts were fastened in his shoulder. 
 This is an operation requiring considerable cour 
 age, skill and presence of mind. A banderillo took 
 a dart in each hand, the shaft being about two feet 
 long, and covered with a network of bright-colored 
 paper ; he attracted the bull s attention, and, as he 
 made his charge, adroitly reached over his horns, 
 planted a dart in either side of his neck, and 
 stepped aside in time to avoid the tips of the horns. 
 Maddened with the pain, the bull tore madly about 
 the ring, bellowing loudly. Finally he took posi 
 tion on the soft earth where the furnace for inflat 
 ing the balloon had stood, and no amount of strat 
 egy or aggravation could dislodge him. In vain 
 the picadors tempted him, and in vain the bander 
 illos flaunted their banners in his face. If a tempt- 
 
104 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 ing chance to insert a horn drew him a few feet 
 from his place of refuge, he soon retreated. In the 
 meantime the matador (a little cuss dressed up like 
 a clown), whose duty it \vas to administer the final 
 coup dc grace to the bull with a sword, had been 
 monkeying around the ring to no purpose. The 
 audience became impatient, and a hoarse roar for 
 " Un Otro!" went up from a thousand throats. 
 The bull had funked, and must give way to an 
 other. He had done no harm and suffered little. 
 Once or twice his horns had touched the flanks of 
 the equine skeletons ridden by the picadors, but 
 the protecting leather had saved their miserable 
 lives. As for himself, the blood was streaming 
 from a dozen pike wounds, yet he was not seriously 
 hurt. But it is the rule to never permit a bull to 
 leave the ring alive, unless he has killed a man. 
 The trumpet sounded, and we waited to see the ma 
 tador take his sword and kill the toro. But that 
 official disdained to kill so tame a creature. So 
 two caballeros, mounted on good horses, rode in. 
 One lassoed the bull by the head and the other by 
 the hind leg. He was thrown and stretched at full 
 length in the dust. 
 
 While I was wondering what next, a fellow ap 
 proached, drew a two-edged dirk, and deliberately 
 proceeded to drive it into poor toro s spinal col 
 umn, just behind the horn. My soul turned sick 
 \vith horror at the assassination. The body was 
 dragged out and No. 2 came in with a bound. 
 This bull was a better specimen, and made it in 
 teresting for the performers. Once or twice he 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 1 05 
 
 nearly overturned the equine skeletons, and once 
 he made a flying attempt to leap the barrier and 
 get at the audience. One of the banderillos dis 
 played considerable skill. He would hold his ban 
 ner before the enraged creature and avoid a series 
 of five or six successive lunges. You could hardly 
 see how it was done. This one, too, finally had 
 enough of the pikes, and took refuge in the soft 
 earth and could not be coaxed out. Once he failed 
 to take advantage of an opportunity to get even 
 with one of his tormentors. A banderillo" stepped 
 on a round stick, which turned with him, and he 
 fell flat in the dust, not more than ten feet from the 
 bull. The party of the first part happened to 
 be engaged in watching the motions of a picador 
 just then, but he heard the fall, and turned to see 
 what it was. He saw his opportunity, but a little 
 too late. By the time he got there his agile enemy 
 was on foot again. This bull was killed in the 
 same horrible and atrocious manner as the first, 
 the matador disdaining to stain his sword with the 
 blood of a scrub. No. 3 was the best of the lot, 
 and after a gallant fight the matador was called on 
 to dispatch him, but declined. The animal wasn t 
 quite up to his standard. One of the banderillos 
 took the weapon, and, provoking the bull to sev 
 eral charges, made a number of thrusts at its heart, 
 but failed to reach the vital spot. After which it 
 was lassoed, stretched and butchered like the rejj:. 
 No. 4 was but a repetition of the experiences. No. 
 5 was turned over to the rabble. They sprang over 
 the barriers by scores, and soon the ring was full. 
 
IC)6 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 They shook their ragged blankets in the bull s face, 
 and dodged his charges like the regular lighters 
 had done. Finally one ragamuffin seized the bull s 
 tail, and in less than a second you could not see that 
 bull for the human flies that covered him. They 
 held him by the nose, the neck, the tail, the horns, 
 and a half dozen mounted his back. Finally the 
 tail-hold was suddenly released, and the bull shook 
 off his tormenters. There was another chase and 
 another capture. At this point we left to secure a 
 seat in the train. Alas ! We were too late. There 
 was not room for a grasshopper. Fortunately we 
 found a coach, and after a two hours drive over 
 the road by which Cortez retreated, by the arbor 
 triste, we reached the citv. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE standard " show places " about Mexico had 
 to be visited, of course. But as many pens " more 
 
 abler " than mine, as Uncle J would say, have 
 
 described them, I will deal gently with the erring 
 reader who follows me through these straggling 
 "Notes." We did the great cathedral, and saw 
 its immense railings of silver and gold ; its beauti- 
 fjf" pictures ; its onyx basins for holy water ; its 
 gorgeous gilding ; its massive architecture ; its 
 great bells, and its rude wooden doors which would 
 disgrace a Pennsylvania barn. From its towers we 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 1 07 
 
 saw the loveliest panorama in the world Popocat- 
 apetl and the " White Lady," Chapultepec, Molino 
 del Rey, Guadalupe, Taeubaya, and the city itself 
 spread out before us like a map. From this alti 
 tude we got a glimpse of the housetop life of the 
 Mexicans. Some of the flat terraces were con 
 verted into blooming gardens, while on others cook 
 ing, washing, clothes-drying, and other industrial 
 pursuits were being carried on. We visited the 
 museum and saw the Aztec weapons, idols, picture 
 writing and the great Sacrificial Stone, on which 
 sixty thousand human beings are said to have been 
 offered up to appease the god of war. With the re 
 membrance of Prescott s description fresh in my 
 mind it seemed as if I could smell the stench of the 
 sacrificial blood 4 in the air. Through that trench 
 cut in the face of the stone what a flood of human 
 blood has flowed, as the priests tore the reeking 
 heart from the breasts of the victims ! But hold ! 
 The iconoclast is after the Sacrificial Stone. He 
 says the trench cut from the center to its periphery, 
 and supposed to have been used to convey the 
 blood, was an after-thought, and he proves it, or 
 thinks he proves it, by calling attention to the fact 
 that it divides the hieroglyphical characters with 
 which the entire surfaces of the stone are inscribed. 
 But it is not my fight. We visited the Palace, the 
 Monte de Piedad and the postoffice. We saw 
 Guadalupe, the via sacra along which penitents 
 used to crawl on their hands and knees to propitiate 
 the Virgin ; the blanket of Juan Diego upon which 
 the Virgin imprinted her image, now framed as a 
 
io8 
 
 FKIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 picture ; the iron baths, the waters of which taste 
 like those of Saratoga. Penon de los Banos was 
 not neglected. It is a volcanic hill of almost solid 
 iron ore, covered with a poisonous cactus burr, the 
 sharp spines of which work their way through the 
 stoutest leather into the flesh. In caves around the 
 base of the hill dwell the ladrones, nominally em 
 ployed in making saltpetre from the nitrous earth 
 which abounds, but ready to engage in any nefar 
 ious work which promises pelf. The daylight vis 
 itor can get oft with a moderate donation in the 
 shape of backshccsh. One of them, a lusty, bare 
 legged and bare-footed fellow with the agility of a 
 mountain goat, fastened himself on our party and 
 insisted on showing us over the hill. 
 
 On being asked how he escaped getting his bare 
 feet full of the cactus spines while our boots bris 
 tled like fretful porcupines, he answered, with a 
 droll laugh, that he "kept his eyes open." It is 
 said that when a fresh revolution is "on," three 
 hundred rifles come out of Penon. Near by are 
 the hot baths. An outlet from the internal fires of 
 Popocatapetl boils up here, and the waters are in 
 high repute for the cure of rheumatism and skin 
 diseases. The buildings are old and massive, and 
 the various chambers seem like caves. There are 
 no accommodations for patients save coarse food. 
 Occasionally one comes out for a week s treatment, 
 bringing his bedding with him ; but the solitude 
 and the surroundings are enough to counteract the 
 benefits of the waters. It is a wild, ugly place, and 
 I should want to have an iron-clad throat to be 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. I Op 
 
 caught there after nightfall. There is a ruined 
 chapel attached to the establishment, on the walls 
 of which hang some really meritorious pictures, 
 slit in numerous places by knife thrusts and bayo 
 net stabs. Chapultepec was also visited, with its 
 great spring, its giant cypress trees, under one of 
 which was Montezuma s favorite loafing place, and 
 other curiosities. Our guide was a former servant 
 of Mr. Barron, and he took us through his place 
 at Tacubaya. Barron is one of the English build 
 ers of the railroad. He spent near a million of 
 dollars in converting a volcanic hill into an earthly 
 paradise. The house is furnished like an empe 
 ror s palace, and many an art gallery has a poorer 
 show of pictures. Some of them are genuine 
 Murrillos, each one of which cost a prince s ran 
 som. No visitor ever leaves Mexico without mak 
 ing a pilgrimage to the Arbor Triste. It is a great 
 cypress tree, possibly a thousand years old, at the 
 little village of Popotla, a few miles from the city. 
 Here it was that the lion heart of Hernan Cortez 
 gave way as he gathered the pitiful remnant of his 
 command about him after the disastrous retreat of 
 La Noche Triste. The causeway along which the 
 Spaniards retreated, assailed on every side by hun 
 dreds of thousands of Indians, whose distorted 
 faces were lighted up by the glare of the temple 
 fires, is now one of the principal streets of Mexico, 
 and the exact spot where Alvarado made his great 
 leap, is pointed out to the tourist. Tradition says 
 that having for the time baffled his pursuers, Cortez 
 hitched his horse to a drooping limb of this gigan- 
 
, 
 
 IIO TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 tic tree,. and wept like a child. It is a sad wreck 
 of its former self a gnarled and twisted shell, the 
 core of it having been eaten out by lire. There 
 are two stories of its misfortune. One is that In 
 dians built a fire to cook their tortillas, and another 
 is that Maximilian and some friends were admir 
 ing it one day, and a malicious scoundrel fired it 
 purposely, for no other reason than because the 
 emperor derived pleasure from looking at it. 
 Though a mere shell, the sap still circulates through 
 its surface veins, and the leaves are green. Since 
 the fire the government has built an iron railing 
 about it another instance of locking the stable 
 after the horse is stolen. 
 
 While we were looking at the venerable tree, 
 and trying to imagine the feelings of the little band 
 of conqtiistadores who gathered under it on that 
 disastrous night, a young Indian woman, with 
 arms and legs that Venus would envy and a face 
 of which the devil would be ashamed, came and 
 offered us fresh pulque. 
 
 Modesty, as we understand it, is a plant that 
 doesn t seem to thrive in the rarified atmosphere of 
 Mexico. The lower classes discharge the functions, 
 which Henry Ward Beecher says were imposed on 
 man for his humiliation, without the least sense of 
 shame, and in the most public places. Maximilian 
 made a determined effort at reform in this particular, 
 and succeeded to a great extent in rescuing the city 
 from the most offensive forms of indecency ; but a 
 drive along any one of the great highways will re 
 veal enough in a single morning to establish the 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. Ill 
 
 fact that modesty is not the crown jewel of Mexican 
 character. It is the law of compensation. You see 
 all around you the sublimest landscape in the 
 world, its rugged features softened by a lavish dis 
 play of flowers and vegetation. Perhaps the speci 
 mens of living statuary which line the roadside are 
 needed to remind us that we are still human that 
 the trail of the serpent is over all. In their love- 
 making Mexicans are equally innocent of any sus 
 picion of the impropriety of public demonstrations. 
 You see couples walking through the crowded plaza 
 with their arms about each other s necks, totally 
 oblivious of their surroundings. Except among 
 foreigners, such exhibitions excite no comment. 
 Driving along the Guadalupe road one afternoon, 
 we came upon a strapping fellow seated by the 
 roadside, with a young girl lying beside him, her 
 head resting in his lap. As we passed, she turned 
 her face up to his, reached upward, and with a 
 shapely hand patted the impassive brute on his lan 
 tern ja\v he all the time gazing stolidly at the 
 passing carriage. "You dog! " roared the exas 
 perated colonel. But the dog maintained his equa 
 nimity all the same. At another time, while riding 
 out to the iron baths on a street car, \ve encountered 
 a young couple bedecked in gay holiday ribbons 
 and clean clothes, walking down the broad road 
 way with their arms lovingly clasped about each 
 other s necks. She was young and quite hand 
 some, and he was young and carried in his unoc 
 cupied hand a pitcher of pulque, stray drops of 
 which were sprinkled along the road. Evidently 
 
112 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 a couple of lovers returning from a pilgrimage to 
 the shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe, slightly the 
 worse for their potations. Their arms were twined 
 about each other s necks for mutual support as well 
 as to demonstrate their affection. 
 
 They walked pretty steadily, however, though 
 \vith that obliviousness of demeanor which we see 
 in more civilized drunkards when they try to play 
 it on the people and think they are succeeding. 
 We watched our two lovers from the rear of the 
 car, and saw their steps grow gradually unsteady 
 until they began to totter and weave. After drink 
 ing a half dozen glasses of the effervescent water 
 fresh from the bubbling spring we took another 
 street car for the city. We had forgotten all about 
 our two lovers until we came upon them, again 
 lying prone upon the ground by the roadside, their 
 arms still lovingly intertwined, and their cheeks 
 together, the pitcher broken at the fountain, and a 
 tortuous streak of moist earth showing where the 
 pulque had meandered aw r ay. I may as well state 
 once more, however, that helpless drunkenness is 
 an uncommon sight in Mexico, notwithstanding 
 the oceans of pulque consumed every day. Once 
 I saw a half-naked Indian lying on his face in the 
 street in front the plaza, dead drunk. The coach 
 men considerately drove around him, the herds of 
 panniered asses stepped tenderly to one side, and 
 no one seemed to think the sight worthy of com 
 ment. On another occasion an old gray-headed 
 woman, bare-armed and bare-legged, with a petti 
 coat of blue stuff about her body, tottered on the 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 113 
 
 sidewalk in front of me, gave a lurch and pitched 
 headlong into the street. She had a few little trinkets 
 wrapped up in a handkerchief, which were scattered 
 in the fall. Rising upon her knees, she began 
 groping blindly about to recover them. I have never 
 seen a more pathetic sight, or one that left a deeper 
 impression, unless it was that of a poor fellow 
 whom I saw the morning after mv arrival. He 
 was thin of limb and face, and seemed less intelli 
 gent than the average "greaser." His entire 
 wardrobe consisted of what looked like a piece of 
 worn-out rag carpet tied around his trunk, and re 
 inforced at the hips with a bit of old leather tied on 
 with strings. Hat, shirt, coat, pantaloons and 
 shoes he had none. He had a little bundle of 
 sticks, scarcely more than you could grasp in one 
 hand, tied up with a cord, and was kneeling on 
 the pavement to readjust the fastenings. He 
 looked so utterly and hopelessly miserable he 
 was so shamefully and squalidly poor it made me 
 sick at heart. The poor devil submitted stolidly to 
 a critical inspection, and seemed stricken dumb 
 when I gave him a quarter. By and by he recovered 
 his tongue, and began an eloquent invocation of all 
 the saints in my behalf, which lasted until I got 
 out of ear-shot, and may be running yet for aught 
 I know. 
 
 The Mexican women of the lower classes are ex 
 empt from the special diseases which embitter the 
 lives of their more civilized sisters. None of them 
 have "weak backs" and kindred ailments. The 
 modiste who would attempt to fit a silk dress to one 
 
1 14 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 of their forms, would have no use for cotton or 
 other padding. In Mexico, canary seed is devoted 
 to its legitimate use. Many a high-born dame 
 would give her hopes of salvation for the develop 
 ment which is so lavishly displayed by the tortilla 
 grinders of Mexico. Civilization, coupled with a 
 slavish subservience to idiotic and murderous fash 
 ion, would doubtless soon reduce them to the help 
 less condition of our own hot-house flowers. But 
 must civilization necessarily carry with it the curse 
 of disease? One noticeable feature of Mexican life 
 is the absence of little girls of the better class from the 
 streets. The ninas seem to be all caged in schools, 
 and are jealously guarded until they are grown to 
 be young ladies and safely married. Now and 
 then we pass a couple of dark-eyed senoritas in the 
 plaza, guarded by a fat old duenna, with an eye 
 that bores through you, and firm-set lips that be 
 speak a temper not to be trifled with. She is called 
 duenna because she w r on t let the girls in her 
 charge "duennathing " in the flirtation line unless 
 she is well paid for it. The colonel, who has trav 
 eled in Spain, watches his opportunity, intercepts 
 a glance from a pair of dark eyes when the old 
 ogre happens to be off guard, and gallantly kisses 
 his hand. The little lady looks mischievously 
 pleased, and at the next turn gives him a cautious 
 smile over her left shoulder. 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 SUGAR is one of the staple products of Mexico. 
 In the hot lands the cane matures much better than 
 in Louisiana. The sugar we find in the city is 
 hard loaf, whitish gray in color and broken into 
 lumps. It is very pure and sweet, and better than 
 the white loaf of the States. The people seem to 
 be fond of sweets. The manufacture of dulceria is 
 an important industry, and the peddlers of candies 
 and confections are almost as numerous as the ped 
 dlers of lottery tickets. These peddlers of sweets 
 are seen squatted all over the plaza, with their 
 stores temptingly displayed before them. 
 
 As business is sometimes slack, the attention of 
 the vender is often diverted from his wares for sev 
 eral moments. 
 
 The Mexican dog is very much like his brother 
 in the barbaric North. 
 
 I bought no sweets in Mexico. 
 
 One day we went to visit a silk factory. We 
 were introduced to a large room where some hun 
 dred or more of brown maidens, some of them 
 handsome and all coquettish, were engaged in 
 spooling coarse raw silk. A large \vooden wheel 
 revolving at the back part of the building attracted 
 my attention. It seemed to furnish the motive 
 power for the spindles, but I was puzzled to under 
 stand what turned the wheel. No sign of an en- 
 
Il6 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 gine was visible. A clattering, as of some hoofed 
 animal climbing a stairway until he reached the top, 
 and then rolling to the bottom, added to the mys 
 tery. On approaching for a nearer view the mys 
 tery was explained. The wheel was hollow, and 
 inside of it was confined a miserable mule, con 
 demned to one eternal climb in which no progress 
 could be made. We purchased some handker 
 chiefs of the coarse raw silk, gaudily colored, as 
 specimens of Mexican industry. Here, as every 
 where else, the foreigner is expected to pay two or 
 three prices, but we found a protector in our guide. 
 After chaffering for some time over the price of 
 a half dozen handkerchiefs, and hearing the sales 
 man s ultimatum, I was about to reach for my 
 pocketbook. " Hold on," said Hawthorne. "Now 
 when I tell you what he says he will take, you 
 shake your ead and offer him a dollar less." I 
 shook my ead as directed, and with a heart 
 broken look the abated price was accepted. I 
 have no doubt that the price I paid was still con 
 siderably more than a native could have bought 
 the same goods for. 
 
 Food is very cheap in Mexico. 1 Likewise all ar 
 ticles of home manufacture, and some of the im 
 ported goods. An excellent quality of brandy is re 
 tailed at 12^ cents. Whisky is only drank by 
 Americans and Englishmen. At the restaurants 
 you get a meal for fifty cents that would cost $1.50 
 in the States. As the servants get no pay, depend 
 ing entirely on what they receive from guests, it is 
 customary to acknowledge faithful and intelligent 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 117 
 
 service by the donation of a trifle. One morning 
 Appollonio came to me at the Comonfort with a 
 grievance. He had seen me getting my boots 
 blacked by Bonifacio, a servant on the ground 
 floor. He wanted me to understand that all the 
 lodgers on the third floor were his peculiar meat. 
 To appease him I got him to sew a button on a re 
 fractory shirt, and paid him a quarter. The prices 
 of some articles, however, seem rather exorbitant. 
 It stimulates a fellow s appetite for ham to see a 
 Westphalia specimen in a shop window labeled six 
 reals ($1.50) a pound. Spirits of peppermint, how 
 ever, seem to be the costliest article in the capital. 
 One night Mr. P. was troubled with intestine 
 strife, probably caused by excess of fruit, and 
 thought a spoonful of that favorite domestic remedy 
 would set him right. There was a venerable old 
 apothecary suave and oily on the south side of 
 the plaza, who had seduced us into the purchase of 
 sundry glasses of soda on pretense of speaking Eng 
 lish. Thither we repaired, and he put up an ounce 
 of peppermint, for which he unblushingly demand 
 ed a dollar. Mr. P. is not the man to be swindled 
 without kicking. If the old fraud had charged him 
 fifty cents he would have contested the claim. But 
 the enormity of the swindle overwhelmed him, and 
 he paid it wathout a remonstrance. Then he walked 
 over to the plaza, took a seat under a eucalyptus 
 tree, and pronounced. 
 
 In Mexico every business house has a fanciful 
 name. Instead of putting the name of the firm on 
 the sign they put up its designation. For a shoe 
 
Il8 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 store the "Blue Boot" seems to be a favorite name. 
 Frequently a dry goods store is called "The 
 Daughters of Eve." " El Borrego " (the sheep) 
 seems to be a favorite sign for a cigar store. The 
 pulque shops have the most fanciful names. " The 
 Roses of Spring," and "The Three Graces" are 
 common names, while other proprietors, with 
 shocking candor, call their places "The Hell," 
 "The Little Hell," "The Devil s Tail," "The 
 Devil s School," etc. 
 
 The most beautiful suburb of Mexico is San 
 Angel. It lies at the foot of the mountains, about 
 ten miles out, and is the wildest little beauty spot I 
 ever saw. One Sunday we took the horse cars, 
 rode out there, and spent a few hours very pleas 
 antly in loafing about its quaint little plaza, and 
 strolling through its walled gardens, filled with ap 
 ple, pear, apricot and, peach trees, flowers and 
 tropical fruits. In one of these gardens I saw a 
 rose tree eight inches in diameter, and spreading 
 over a large surface of ground. It looked as if it 
 might have been three hundred years old, and I 
 dare say it was. Around a pulque shop were gath 
 ered a dozen or more horsemen, in heavily silvered 
 sombreros, gay velvet jackets, and bell-buttoned 
 pantaloons, slashed to the knee. Horses and 
 equipments all seemed of the finest. At first I 
 supposed they represented the dandy element of 
 the city, out on a lark, but after making merry for 
 an hour or two, they all mounted and galloped ofF 
 on the road leading up the mountain. They looked 
 like ideal brigands. But as there was a garrison 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 1 19 
 
 of Porfirio s soldiers with;n a stone s throw, we felt 
 no apprehensions. 
 
 The manifest shrinkage of our pocket-books 
 warned us that we had better get out of Mexico. 
 The colonel had left six days ahead of. us with a 
 view to visiting Puebla, and then hurrying on to 
 Vera Cruz to catch the English steamer for Ha 
 vana. So, bidding a regretful adieu to our kind 
 friends, the Harrises, and others, whose acquaint 
 ance we had found very pleasant, we boarded the 
 midnight train and turned our faces seaward. We 
 were fortunate enough to secure an entire compart 
 ment of the English coach to ourselves, and putting 
 the great ulster under my head, I laid down to 
 pleasant dreams. How long I had slept I know 
 not, but I awoke with a sensation of the most sting 
 ing cold. It seemed as if an icicle could not have 
 been freer from caloric. I got into that ulster in 
 short order, tucked its long skirts about me, rolled 
 myself into a ball, and shivered until morning. 
 Remembering the midsummer fierceness of the 
 sun at noon of the previous day, I could not have 
 believed such a temperature possible within fifty 
 miles. But it was a frosty night. With the sun 
 came a modification of the temperature, and by ten 
 o clock it was pleasantly warm, though Malinche 
 was covered with snow until her summit was as 
 white as Popocatapetl. Passing Boca del Monte, 
 and hurrying down the rapid descent on the other 
 side, the atmosphere became sultry and suffocating. 
 A hot vapor steamed up from the earth in the low- 
 
I2O TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 lands, and the rank vegetation seemed loaded with 
 pestilential miasma. 
 
 We arrived at Vera Cruz a little after dark, and 
 were greeted with its own peculiar agglomeration 
 of stinks, each one of which seemed to have grown 
 robust and aggressive in our absence. Arriving at 
 the hotel we were overjoyed to find the colonel sit 
 ting at a little table in the public room, with his feet 
 in the sawdust and an imposing tumbler of brandy 
 and water before him. The colonel is a temperate 
 man ; with the exception of a bottle of claret at din 
 ner, he could rarely be induced to imbibe. But he 
 is an old traveler, and knows that there is no better 
 prophylactic of the poison of yellow fever than a lit 
 tle brandy judiciously administered. He likewise 
 knows that persistent use not only deprives it of 
 its power to protect, but betrays the improvident 
 drinker into the hands of the enemy. The colonel 
 had stopped oft a couple of days to visit the cataract 
 of Orizaba, and this is how we happened to over 
 take him again. The next morning we put him on 
 board the New York steamer which touches at Ha 
 vana, and saw him off*. It seemed like parting with 
 a friend of long years standing, instead of a chance 
 acquaintance. His last words, as our boat receded 
 from the steamer s side, was an admonition to "Be 
 ware of the hypercoon." 
 
 I had heard much in Mexico of the delicious oys 
 ters of Vera Cruz. Seeing a sign in the public 
 room of the hotel " Oysters 25 cents a dozen" 
 I concluded to try some. They brought me a plate 
 of what at first I took for empty shells, but on close 
 
TRIP TO MEXICO. 121 
 
 scrutiny I detected in each shell a small, dark, jel 
 ly-like substance, about the size of a nickel, which, 
 in the absence of anything better, does duty as an 
 oyster. The shells are small and thin as wafers. 
 I tried to get at the flavor of the oysters, but 
 could not get enough of them together to make a 
 taste. If I was real hungry I would rather glean 
 the empty shells of a dozen Barrataria oysters than 
 attempt to make a meal out of a bushel of the 
 Vera Cruz article. 
 
 Vera Cruz, as I have said, is a lively place. As 
 we sit in the public room a drunken sailor quarrels 
 with the barkeeper, and at every movement of 
 the latter puts his hand to his hip, where an ugly 
 looking knife reposes in a greasy sheath. He is 
 knocked down from behind and turned over to the 
 police. An old man, bent nearly double, his thin 
 face the color of old leather, is pleading at the bar 
 for a drink. He has a fine, intellectual face, but 
 insanity, caused by drink, has long since taken 
 possession of him. He goes about constantly talk 
 ing to himself, and drinking whenever he can get 
 drink. He shows a silver piece, but the attendant 
 tells him it is not his money he wants ; he has had 
 enough drink. His earnest pleading finally pre 
 vails ; he swallow at a gulp the tumbler of brandy, 
 and goes out into the night. We retire early and 
 are put into a large corner room, with four win 
 dows and four beds. The heat has increased until 
 it is almost suffocating. The windows swing back 
 on hinges like doors, but only seem to admit stink, 
 which increases rather than modifies the intense 
 
122 TRIP TO MEXICO. 
 
 heat. The stenches of three hundred years ac 
 cumulation seem to have all been stirred up on this 
 horrid night for our especial benefit. I take one of 
 the miserable little cots, with an insufficient mos 
 quito bar which exasperates like a short shirt. 
 Down below they are keeping up an infernal racket 
 of card-playing and gabbling. The mosquitoes 
 are abominably active. Sleep is out of the ques 
 tion. P. sits in one of the open windows and 
 smokes incessantly. And so we gasp the long 
 night away. Another night of this torture and our 
 steamer comes into port. We board her immedi 
 ately, and feel like new men when a mile of water 
 intervenes between our nostrils and the smells 
 of the City of the True Cross. Perhaps some 
 mav think I am prejudiced against Vera Cruz. 
 Let them spend a couple of warm nights there, 
 and they will regret the poverty of the Eng 
 lish language. Even the buzzards have to fly a 
 mile or so out twice a day, and spend an hour or 
 two circling over the blue water, in order to escape 
 the smells. 
 
BIG SAM." 
 
 I PRESUME he must have had another name, 
 thougn if I ever knew it, it has escaped my mem 
 ory. He was known in the regiment as "Big 
 Sam." B. S. was not a graceful party, nor a 
 pleasant fellow to look at. Though prepared 
 to polish off anybody at a moment s notice, it 
 was quite apparent that he lacked polish. He 
 was long, loose-jointed, shambling in gait, gin 
 ger-haired, lantern-jawed, and had a stoop in his 
 shoulders. Big Sam s temper was none of the 
 sweetest, especially when he had liquor in him, 
 \vhich was always the case, if he could get it, 
 and he generally could. I have noticed that men 
 usually can get liquor, even when they can get 
 nothing else. A fellow may be out of credit, out 
 at the elbows, out all over, but, though he could 
 not raise a breakfast to keep him from starving, he 
 can always manage to keep drunk. No man ever 
 yet kept sober for lack of money. But, as I was 
 going to remark about Big Sam, he was an ugly 
 chap a rough customer not to put too tine a 
 point on it, a ruffian. Of his career before enter- 
 
124 " BIG SAM." 
 
 ing the service of his beloved "ked ntry" I can 
 not speak. Somehow there was a vague impres 
 sion abroad that he had been a tanner, and he cer 
 tainly did smell a little that way, now and then. 
 
 Military discipline sat uneasily upon the shoul 
 ders of Big Sam. He could not grasp the idea. 
 Having always been accustomed to his own way, 
 it was hard to resign his individuality, and subor 
 dinate himself to the will of shoulder straps. If 
 the work of putting down the rebellion could have 
 been effected with a "hurrah" a fight in the 
 morning and a frolic at night each patriot going 
 in voluntarily, staying as long as he wanted to and 
 using his judgment about retiring when he had 
 enough, Big Sam would have liked it. But he 
 abominated the tomfoolery of dress parade, and 
 the absurdity of guard mounting disgusted him. 
 
 Sam was insubordinate. He was amenable to 
 reason when sober, but he would get drunk on an 
 average twice a week, and then he was a source of 
 vexation to the officers and a bad example to the 
 men. He would fight, break guard, curse the offi 
 cers and make himself disagreeable in a hundred 
 ways. As the green rabble were transformed into 
 soldiers, and the slouching, shambling gait was 
 supplanted by the martial tread of the soldier, dis 
 cipline tightened on Big Sam ; but he did not mind 
 it. He could get as tight as discipline could. He 
 cared not for guard house, or any of the thousand 
 and one ingenious punishments devised to reduce 
 his obstinate spirit, and he snapped his fingers at 
 court martial. One thing about the brute. He 
 
" BIG SAM/ 125 
 
 had indomitable courage. He was an exception 
 to the. rule that a bully is always a coward. I have 
 seen him heap the foulest epithets on an officer 
 with a cocked revolver in one hand and a watch in 
 the other, waiting for the allotted five minutes to 
 expire before being shot for gross insubordina 
 tion. By every vile abuse his ingenuity could de 
 vise, Big Sam invited death, but the natural re 
 pugnance which every one feels to shedding the 
 blood of an unarmed man prevailed over a sense 
 of duty, and Big Sam was spared, "to the preju 
 dice of good order and military discipline." Mat 
 ters finally became critical with the regimental ele 
 phant. It was quite apparent that something must 
 be done with him. If he had taken it into his 
 jackass head to desert it would have relieved the 
 colonel of a load of responsibility. No reward 
 would have been offered for him, and no attempt 
 would have been made to hunt him up or down. 
 The colonel pondered over him. Several courses 
 of treatment suggested themselves. He might be 
 shot almost any day in the week with good effect 
 on the regimental morale, or he might be drummed 
 out w r ith a full regimental band playing the Rogue s 
 March ; but the colonel was loth to accept either of 
 these alternatives. So he tried an experiment. He 
 made him a corporal. Big Sam went into the 
 colonel s tent wearing his usual sullen look, and 
 came out bewildered and foolish. He could not 
 understand it. He pondered the matter, and the 
 more he turned it over, the more inextricably con 
 fused he became. However, from that moment 
 
126 "BIG SAM." 
 
 there was a change, or rather a succession of 
 changes, in Big Sam. 
 
 The first change was that of his shirt, and as he 
 appeared at guard-mounting with his face washed, 
 his coat brushed, and the new chevrons on his 
 sleeves, he appeared quite a different man. His 
 opinions on various mooted military points under 
 went a radical change. The adjutant s way of 
 putting it " You have no right to think, sir. The 
 Government pays men to think for you ! " no lon 
 ger struck him as being a monstrous infringement 
 of individual rights. Circumstances alter cases, 
 and from his corporal standpoint, the old East 
 Indian s rude enunciation of a great military idea 
 no longer appeared so monstrously arbitrary. Big 
 Sam felt that he now was paid by the Government 
 to think for others. Unlike many, Big Sam did 
 not become a tyrant as soon as he was promoted. 
 The dignity of the position was duly appreciated, 
 but he was not inflated by its importance. He 
 was as stern a corporal in all matters of duty as 
 ever posted a sentinel, but he was impartial and 
 just in the exercise of his authority. From the 
 worst man and the most insubordinate soldier in 
 the regiment he became orderly, well-behaved and 
 trustworthy. His drunks became few and far be 
 tween, and even in his cups he never forgot that 
 he was an officer in the service of the republic, 
 and that his name was at stake. 
 
 Big Sam died ingloriously. It was all about a 
 little matter of honey. He had discovered a bee 
 hive near the camp, and had told a comrade of it 
 
" BIG SAM." 127 
 
 in confidence. One clay when far gone under 
 the influence of his ancient enemy, he concluded 
 he would go out and harvest his honey. Un 
 luckily he encountered his perfidious comrade, ap 
 parently bent on the same errand, on the ground. 
 The sergeant was quite as drunk as the big cor 
 poral. There were hot words, and mutual recrim 
 inations. The sergeant, a small, slightly built 
 man, wanted to fight, but Big Sam scorned to 
 fight so small a man. He proposed ten paces, 
 and a settlement with revolvers, and his proposi 
 tion was accepted. The ground was stepped, 
 the word given, and the pistols cracked simul 
 taneously. A navy ball passed through the ser 
 geant s hair, and Big Sam lay stretched upon the 
 grass, spitting blood. The bullet had passed 
 through his lungs. He was on his feet in a mo 
 ment, and "reckoned" it didn t amount to much. 
 The sergeant, pale as a sheet and sobered by the 
 termination of the affair, was at his side in a mo 
 ment, anxiously inquiring where he was hit, and 
 the night-capped head of the rightful owner of the 
 honey, who had been a horror-stricken witness of 
 the affair, was hastily withdrawn from the upper 
 window out of which it had been protruded. 
 
 "Sergeant, you ll have to help me to camp," 
 said Big Sam. " I feel kind o squeamish like, and 
 I m afraid you ve cooked my goose for me. We re 
 a couple o d d fools anyhow. But I m d d glad 
 I didn t hit you." 
 
 Big Sam lay on his cot in the hospital, which 
 was located on an old wharf boat. It was on the 
 
128 4k BIG SAM." 
 
 night of the tenth day since the moonlight duel 
 over the beehive. He had steadily and obstinately 
 refused at first to tell how he had received his 
 wound, but the sergeant, a prey to unavailing re 
 grets, had told the whole story, and the owner of 
 the honey had corroborated it. Big Sam s iron 
 constitution had held out manfully, and hopes of 
 his recovery were entertained. A paymaster was 
 in camp, and the rolls had been brought down for 
 Big Sam to sign. Partially raising himself on one 
 elbow, he grasped the pen, wrote his name in great 
 sprawling letters, and fell back exhausted. Then 
 he slept, for a short time, awaking with a start. 
 " Lieutenant," he called, with something of alarm 
 in his voice, " Come to me. D d if I aint dying ! 
 Yes I am ! I feel it. I ll be dead in ten minutes. 
 Lieutenant, I ve been a hard case. I never had no 
 raisin , and growed up among thieves and drunk 
 ards, but by G d I ve tried to make a man of my 
 self an do my duty by the boys. Tell Jake not to 
 fret about it. I was more to blame than him. You 
 
 draw my money to-morrow and send it to . 
 
 Pay Stigall a dollar out of it. What the h 11 did 
 you put the light out for? No? Good God! I m 
 blind ! Good bye, Lieutenant ! I m going. Christ 
 have mercy on me." 
 
 His eyes closed, and his breathing was that of a 
 dying man. After a few moments of silence, 
 broken only by the labored respiration, he mut 
 tered in broken tones, "Fool! All for a little 
 stolen honey ! " And then Big Sam turned half 
 
"BIG SAM. 129 
 
 way over, a convulsive shiver ran through his giant 
 frame, his legs stiffened out, and he was dead. 
 
 I have given the death-bed scene of Big Sam as 
 I remember it, in all its horrible profanity, without 
 apology. The Sergeant was court-martialed, but 
 nothing was done with him. The death of Big 
 Sam, however, has always lain heavily on his con 
 science. Since that awful night he has eaten no 
 honey nor drank any liquor. 
 
JIM BALES DOG FIGHT. 
 
 WE could not be mistaken. We knew him bv 
 his long, loose-jointed legs, his shambling gait, 
 and the peculiar manner in which he slung his 
 ape-like arms about him. His face was scored 
 like pork, and patched up with bits of sticking 
 plaster. One ear had been "chawed ofF, and 
 both eyes were terribly bunged. Some accom 
 plished artist had evidently undertaken the job of 
 polishing him off. When we say him, we wish to be 
 understood as alluding to our osseous friend, Mr. 
 James Bales, Esq., a long, lean, gaunt and hungry 
 patriot who lives over the river, and earns his 
 bread by fishing and hunting, with brief variations 
 in the way of manual labor. Jim isn t on good 
 terms with our Spanish friend, Manual, and gen 
 erally picks a quarrel with him the first week, re 
 lapsing into vagabondism. His standard amuse 
 ments are tobacco chewing, whisky drinking, fid 
 dling and righting. He has abundance of pluck 
 and a fair knowledge of the manly art ; and hence 
 a felicitous expression, for which we acknowl 
 edge our indebtedness to a well-known educator 
 
JIM BALES DOG FIGHT. 131 
 
 we were somewhat surprised to see him so badly 
 used up. 
 
 "Hullo! Jim! been fightin ? " 
 
 The long, shambling legs came to a dead halt, 
 the windmill arms ceased to vibrate, and he re 
 garded us with a half-puzzled, half-defiant glare. 
 " W y George, I didn t see yer. Ha nt seen 
 much o anything for the last ten days. Look at 
 them eyes, George. D ye think ye could git along 
 with sech a pair o optics yerself ? Ef ye do, I 
 can tell ye jest whar to git em. And I don t 
 charge nothin for the information, nuther. Been 
 fightin ? You re mighty right. Glad to see ye! 
 Blast my eyes (wot s left of em) ef I aint ! Give 
 us a chaw." 
 
 He twisted off about two ounces of cavendish 
 and thrust it into his cavernous jaws. 
 
 "Well, George, that s about the meanest ter- 
 backer I ever knowed a white man to carry. Not 
 white enough to spile the hide, though, are ye, 
 George? Haw ! haw ! If I was in your " 
 
 " But about the fight, Jim." 
 
 "Yes, I m a comin to that. But, George, I m 
 dry as a lime-kiln. Got any stamps? Yes? Well, 
 jest lend me a dollar that ll make it an even five, 
 you know an I ll set em up. Less go in h yar 
 to the S Nickelus, and arter I ve lubricated with 
 about forty drops o instant death, I ll tell ye the 
 whole story. Don t drink? Tell that to marines, 
 Georgey, but it won t go down wi me. You see I 
 know ye know d ye in the army. Ef you d ever 
 been cashiered, it wouldn t a bin on account o not 
 
132 JIM BALES DOG FIGHT. 
 
 punishin your share o commissary. Hev, Geor- 
 
 gey?" 
 
 The amount of fluid with which Mr. Bales pro 
 posed to "lubricate" was certainly the most aston 
 ishing "forty drops" that ever came within the 
 observation of that barkeeper. He stared in open- 
 mouthed wonder, and muttered some incoherent 
 nonsense about doing a wholesale business. 
 
 Having enveloped his benzine, w r hich he did at 
 a single gulp, finishing the performance with a 
 relishing smack of the lips, w r e pressed Jim for the 
 story of his fight. 
 
 " Well, you see," began Mr. Bales, first polish 
 ing his worst eye with the remains of a red silk 
 handkerchief, " I had bin workin purty steady at 
 the pork us, and had got sort o tired o spar ribs, 
 an sich. They kind o turrfed agin me, you 
 know, an I hankered arter wild game a briled 
 squirrel, or a couple o nice patridges. So I 
 thought I d jest take my gun an try the fields a 
 round. Lize said I had better a durned sight go to 
 work an git money enough to buv myself a pair o 
 boots. I had a sort o sneakin notion that Lize s 
 head was level ; but you know, George, these 
 women han t much idee o field sports, anyhow, 
 an as Fd bin a workin puriy study for.more n a 
 week, I thought I d go jest once, an trust to luck 
 fur the boots. So givin Jule, the bitch, a per- 
 liminnerry thrashin , to subdue the exuberance of 
 her animal sperits, I started out. Lize was mad as- 
 a hornet, an her little black eyes was a snappin 
 like coals o fire. I know d I wasn t doin the 
 
JIM BALES DOG FIGHT. 133 
 
 clean thing by Lize, who is a good woman, 
 George, only she has the allfiredest temper in the 
 world ; but I was mighty tired o work, an needed 
 a little recreation. Well, as I was sayin , we 
 started out, an beat over a dozen fields without 
 raisin anything bigger n a grasshopper. Jule 
 worked mighty industrious, (she was afraid of 
 another lickin ) but there wasn t a feather in a 
 rajus o ten mild. The infernal town hunters had 
 skeered the blasted birds clean outen the county. 
 A big disgust come over me, an I started fur 
 Stringtown. I gravitated into a pizen shop, and 
 thar I found a feller with a fiddle. You know my 
 weakness, George. I kin no more git away from 
 a fiddle, speshally ef there s any rum about, than 
 a hoss kin git away from a burnin stable. Conse 
 quence was that midnight found me a fiddlin an 
 clancin , drunker nor a biled owl. I ll never tell 
 ye how I gut home, but when I did sneak in I 
 found Lize ready fur me, bilin over with madness, 
 cocked an primed with a big, curting lecture. 
 I ve had many a curting lecture, George, but 
 blamed ef that wasn t the completest one I ever 
 heerd tell on. Lize astonished me, an I da say 
 she astonished herself. I didn t think it was in 
 her. There s notliin equal to a woman s tongue 
 when it gits a goin rightly, an ef that blessed 
 female didn t keep it up, without intermission for 
 refreshments, the livelong night, then may I never 
 taste sperits agin. She jawed and jawed till I 
 thought the hinges would a wore out, an the more 
 I said nothin the harder she jawed. Ef I per- 
 
134 J IM BALES DOG FIGHT. 
 
 tended to snore she d punch me in the ribs. I 
 thought of a tough ramrod I had in the corner, an r 
 was orfully tempted to try it on her ; but that 
 would a been too durned mean. Or nary an 
 triflin as I am I never yet licked a woman, George, 
 but a feller that drinks Stringtown whisky is never 
 safe, even from that. But I banished the ramrod 
 from my mind, an told Satan to git him behind 
 me, an he got. Finally, about daylight, Lize got 
 kind o hystericky, an I dropped into a oneasy 
 sleep, durin which I could hear Lize s tongue still 
 a goin it, an sech words as brute, i beast, an 
 hog, comin an allfired sight thicker an faster 
 than bullets did in the whisky charge at Port Hud 
 son. That died out in time, an I slept like a log. 
 Ever drink any Stringtown whisky, George? No? 
 Well, then, there s a new sensation a waitin for 
 you." 
 
 At this point Mr. Bales throat became husky, 
 and the barkeeper was again astonished to the ex 
 tent of forty drops, after which the historian pro 
 ceeded : 
 
 " I don t think I had slept more n fifteen minutes 
 when I was waked up by the orfullest howl you 
 ever heerd. I riz up sort o galvanic like, jest in 
 time to see the bitch a scootin out o the door in a 
 mist o steam, and Lize standin in the middle o 
 the floor, with the tea-kettle in her hand. You 
 orter see that animile s back, George ; not a sign 
 o har from the shoulders to the tail, no more n 
 there is in the palm o my hand. At first I thought 
 it was a accident, but when I seed Lize (durn er) 
 
JIM BALES DOG FIGHT. 135 
 
 reach for my fiddle, I know d she done it a pur 
 pose. Blamed ef she didn t smash it into a thou 
 sand pieces. Then she made a dive for my gun 
 the one I won at a raffle, George. I jumped out, 
 but a leetle too late jest in time to ketch her after 
 she d broke it off at britch. I thought of the ram 
 rod agin, but blamed ef she didn t soon take that 
 outen me. She made a swipe at me with the gun 
 barrels, an I swindled ole Allred outen a job by 
 a clever dodge. Things was a gettin serous, an 
 I lit out. It was a right sharp mornin , an my cos 
 tume was rather airy for the season ; so, arter 
 hangin around the chimley for ten minutes, and 
 shiverin until my teeth chattered like a skeered 
 monkey,! concluded I would look in. Lize was a 
 settin in the corner, with her face to the w r all. I 
 snoke in, got into my duds in somethin of a hurry, 
 bid Mrs. Bales an affectionate good mornin , and 
 left fur the river. You re right agin, old hoss ! I 
 wasn t in the sweetest humor. There was a swarm 
 o bees buzzin in my head, which seemed bout 
 the size of a kit of No. i mackerel, an I felt savage 
 as a wild Injun. Well, I got down to the pork us, 
 an was standin around, waitin , when along come 
 a big red-headed lummux, who makes his whara- 
 bouts in the Broad Riffle settlement. He wer a 
 haulin hogs, and had with him one of the sneak- 
 inest brindle dogs that you ever see jest the kind 
 o dog as any jury of his countrymen \vould convict 
 of sheep-killin and aig-suckin on a shadder o 
 suckemstanshul evidence. I d seen the ornery cuss 
 and his dog many a time before hangin abound the 
 
136 JIM BALES DOG FIGHT. 
 
 Stringtown groceries, and durned ef I liked either 
 of em ; but I kept my fly-trap shet, cause you see, 
 Georgey, he was mighty wide out between the 
 shoulders, an I w r asn t altogether clear in my own 
 mind that he wouldn t git away with me. This 
 mornin , howsever, I was so mad I could a fit Mc- 
 Coole hisself, an w r hen the blasted cur come a 
 smellin around me, to see whether I was one o his 
 sort, I s pose, I jest handed him a kick under the 
 ear, which landed him all of a heap in the fence 
 corner, a howlin until you might a heerd him at 
 the lunatic asylum. In a minute Red Head was off 
 his wagon and a comin at me, lookin mighty vic 
 ious. Says e, "Jim Bales, what did you kick my 
 dog fur? I d ruther you d kick me than to have you 
 kick Scrunch." I knew there was goin to be a 
 fight, an r it was jest in my line. Well, said I, 
 I d jest as leave kick you as yer blasted, suck-aig 
 hound. Wot are you goin to do about it? I knew 
 it was a comin , but it come a little sooner than I 
 expected. There was something like the bustin 
 of a ten inch shell atwixt the eyes, an I see a mil 
 lion o stars. I think I turned as purty a summer 
 set as ever you see outside the circus. I got up an 
 went at him again, when I caught a reglar rib- 
 roaster. I could feel em crack jest z if you d hit 
 em with a maul. Taint wuth while to give each 
 round separate, George. For the fust ten minutes 
 I got the wust of it, and was beginnin to feel sorry 
 I had undertaken the job, when I found his wind 
 was a failin him. That s where old Bales gits em 
 all George. He outwinds em. The tide had 
 
JIM BALES DOG FIGHT. 137 
 
 turned, and he was flat of his back, and the sub 
 scriber was gittin his money back with neatness 
 and dispatch. He was jest gittin ready to blate 
 when the blasted dog come up and bit me ," 
 
 "Where?" we inquired, 
 
 " None o your durned business," said Jim, with 
 more heat than the nature of the question called for ; 
 "but it was an orful bite, and I hain t sot down 
 with no sort o satisfaction sence. But as I was a 
 sayin when you put in with your fool question 
 durn a fool, anyhow when the dog bit me I gin a 
 most onearthly yell, an jumped up to fight the 
 enemy in the rear. The other feller took a fresh 
 start while I was lookin arter the dog, and he 
 gimme a sockdologer under the ear which sent me 
 to grass. He wasn t long a gittin astraddle of me, 
 and the way he put in the licks was truly aston- 
 ishin . I ve had more n a hundred fights, George, 
 but he s the nastiest customer I ever run afoul of. 
 It was wuss than your fight with the Grand Army. 
 Let s liquor." 
 
 "But how did it end, Jim?" 
 
 "Well, you see, he s a heftier man than me, 
 anyhow, an it was nip an tuck, but I b lieve ef " 
 
 "But which licked?" 
 
 "Well, George, it wer hardly a far fight. You 
 see I d had no breakfast, and the infernal String- 
 town whisky 
 
 "Yes. But the result. How did you come 
 out?" 
 
 "Well, you see, ef it hadn t a been for the 
 dog-" 
 
138 JIM BALES DOG FIGHT. 
 
 " Oh, blow the dog ! Did you clean him out? " 
 
 " Well, ef you must know, I HOLLERED, durnye, 
 an I reckon you d a hollered too, ef you d a had 
 Goliar astraddle of ye, shettin offyer wind with 
 one hand while he gouged the eyes outen ye with 
 the other. I m done fightin an tiddlin George, 
 and am goin to work ef I kin find somethin light 
 and genteel. I d ruther tend bar, but ef you see 
 H. tell him I d take a sit to curry bosses ruther n 
 remain idle. Lize is right arter all, ef she could 
 only hold her blasted tongue. Goin George? 
 Couldn t lend me a dollar till I see Tom Hardin , 
 could ye? No? Well, good bye." 
 
 We had got to the corner when Mr. Bales called 
 us back. 
 
 " Look e h yar, George, I ve quit fightin , butef 
 you print anything about this fight, durned ef I 
 don t break every bone in your black hide." 
 
MAN, 
 
 CONSIDERED AS A CANDLE. 
 
 WHAT is man? The old conundrum which has 
 never been satisfactorily answered. A limited 
 acquaintance with anatomical and physiological 
 science teaches us that man is made of blood, 
 bones, muscle, cartilages, integuments, intestines, 
 hair, horns, sheep s wool, leather, stove-pipe hats, 
 and other miscellaneous ingredients ; but these, 
 though essential, are not all of man. Plato s defi 
 nition a two-legged animal without feathers 
 was good enough, until a captious student plucked 
 a Cochin China cock, and held up the denuded 
 fowl before the puzzled philosopher with the ad 
 monition, "Behold your man!" "The animal 
 that laughs," provided a ready solution to the 
 problem, until it was discovered that the hyena 
 also laughs. Job probably came as near meeting 
 the question as any one else has ever done, when 
 he said, " Man that is born of a woman is of few 
 days, and full of trouble." Still the answer is a 
 little lame in some particulars, which it would be 
 
140 MAN, CONSIDERED AS A CANDLE. 
 
 neither pleasant nor profitable to consider just at 
 present. Suppose, for instance, we consider man 
 in the light of a candle, not by candle-light. It 
 will not do to trace these resemblances too closely, 
 of course, and due license must be accorded, with 
 the usual privilege of ignoring such facts as do 
 not suit us, gently distorting where it is necessary, 
 and dwelling strongly on the available features of 
 the case. 
 
 Man s life is, in many respects, like the burning 
 of a candle. If the candle is properly made, and 
 the burning is not interrupted by swaying to and 
 fro, or by gusts of wind, the combustion goes 
 steadily on, emitting an even light ; but at the ex 
 pense of the material. The end comes in due 
 time, and the candle is burnt out. There is a 
 flickering in the socket, a convulsive leaping up of 
 the flame, and the candle goes out in utter dark 
 ness. "Out brief candle," is the manner in 
 which Shakespeare puts it. The candle of man s 
 existence, to run its natural course, w r ill finally ex 
 pire in darkness. But this event may be has 
 tened by extraneous influences. As a puff of 
 wind will extinguish the tallow dip, a trifling in 
 terference with the natural course of combustion 
 a tap on the head with a bludgeon, a mince pie or 
 a lobster salad late at night, the breathing of a 
 sufficient amount of slaughter-house effluvia, to 
 inaugurate typhoid fever a fall from a horse, a 
 cramp in the water, or any one of a thousand tri 
 fling incidents may extinguish the flame of a hu 
 man candle. This thing we call life is held, or 
 
MAN, CONSIDERED AS A CANDLE. 1^1 
 
 holds itself, by a frail and uncertain tenure which, 
 as Carlyle remarks, the splutter of a pistol-shot, or 
 the prick of a bare bodkin will destroy. Hence, 
 the slang phrase for killing a man comes by the 
 easy analogy of reasoning to be known as " snuff 
 ing out his light." 
 
 Different men burn differently. Here is one 
 whose life is a steady, even flame, emitting a clear 
 light, and when rudely jostled only spilling a trifle 
 of grease, and again resuming the even tenor of 
 his combustion. This is the human stearine. And 
 again, we have the autocratic wax taper, emitting 
 a perfumed light, but expiring when the end 
 comes with as hopeless a flutter as that which 
 characterizes the vulgar dip. The tallow candle, 
 which requires frequent trimming, guttering and 
 wasting its substance without affording much light, 
 and burning with a nauseous smell, is typical of 
 the lives of some men. And there are others who 
 remind us of that fire-work known as the Roman 
 candle, by the fizzing rapidity of their consump 
 tion, relieved by periodical explosions, projecting 
 meteor-like balls of fire into surrounding space. 
 
 The flame of the candle suggests the intelli 
 gence, vital principle and soul of man. A puff of 
 breath, or a nip with the snuffers, and the flame is 
 gone. The candle may be relighted, but it is not 
 the same flame which was extinguished. That is 
 gone beyond reach. It is out of existence. The 
 elements that constituted it are still in existence, 
 and a new flame may be raised, but it is not the 
 flame .which we saw extinguished, snuffed out a 
 
142 MAN, CONSIDERED AS A CANDLE. 
 
 moment since. It is but a little thing to puzzle 
 one s brain about, and yet it is enough to start the 
 most painful train of thoughts. What if man s 
 life once extinguished is like the snuffed-out flame 
 of the candle? What if the impalpable atoms 
 which constitute the soul should follow the laws of 
 inanimate matter, and eternally perish and be 
 eternally reproduced, but never in the same com 
 binations? We understand that nothing material 
 perishes or is created. There is constant change, 
 but no new creation of the elements which in cer 
 tain combinations make up the flesh, hair, finger 
 nails, blood and bones of an earthly tabernacle. 
 Men die and worms do eat them. The soil ab 
 sorbs them, and gives them out again in new com 
 binations ; but never again in the endless cycles of 
 time can the man who has once lived and died be 
 reproduced by an accidental reunion of the identi 
 cal atoms of which he was composed, or if he is, 
 he will never know it, which amounts to the same 
 thing. The fearful thought obtrudes itself that 
 possibly the same laws may govern the life and 
 death of the soul that when snuffed out like the 
 flame of the candle, its identity is eternally lost ; 
 that the atoms of intelligence constituting the soul 
 may enter into other souls ; but never by any possi 
 bility can they be re-united in the same proportions. 
 It is a sad muddle at best, and nothing can be 
 gained by vain endeavors to unravel the hopeless 
 tangle. The instincts of human nature revolt at 
 the horrible thought of annihilation, and even the 
 lowest races of men entertain crude ideas of life 
 
MAN, CONSIDERED AS A CANDLE. 143 
 
 beyond the grave. It is better to accept this hope 
 of immortality as a matter of course than be 
 come a prey to self-tormenting doubts, and become 
 insane in the hopeless efforts to comprehend the in 
 comprehensible. But if man dying shall live again, 
 what of the beasts ? Is there any difference in the 
 phenomena which attend the birth, life and death 
 of a dog and those which mark the exit and en 
 trance of man? Do they not each gasp the same, 
 and are not the writhings and convulsions of the 
 supreme moment the same, to all human appear 
 ances, in either case? The dog has a certain 
 amount of intelligence in life. It is less than that 
 of a complete man and greater than that of an 
 idiotic man. But this is getting near to dangerous 
 ground again ground which has quaked and 
 yawned beneath the tread of others ; in whose 
 fateful furrows stand the dread danger-posts warn 
 ing the fool-hardy from nearer approach. "Man 
 dieth and wasteth away ; yea, man giveth up the 
 ghost, and where is he? " Ay, where is he? 
 
THE FEMALE SPIDER. 
 
 " The spider s touch, how exquisitely fine ! " Pope. 
 
 OF all the extensive family of Arachnida, the 
 spider under consideration is the most interesting, 
 while its habits are least understood. The female 
 spider spins, but it is not every spinster who is a 
 spider. Indeed, the sex generally are the flies 
 that tangle themselves in webs of others weaving, 
 and are devoured while the female spider is an 
 anomaly the avenging Nemesis of her sex spin 
 ning and weaving meshes for the ensnarement of 
 the common enemy. She is an innocent looking 
 creature, and the threads with which she binds her 
 victims are of the finest gossamer, though they have 
 the strength of bars of steel. The more we study 
 the habits of this creature, the more we are lost in 
 amazement. We can trace her origin to no dis 
 tinct source, and she is not amenable to the laws of 
 production. At some time in her life she has prob 
 ably been a fly herself, and struggled to shake of 
 the thraldom of some disgusting male spider s web, 
 only succeeded by doffing the characteristics of the 
 fly species, and becoming a spider. And in sup 
 port of this theory we quote Holy Writ, for is it not 
 
THE FEMALE SPIDER. 145 
 
 written, that they shall hatch cockatrice s eggs, 
 and whatever is crushed turneth to a spider? 
 
 There is one peculiarity about the female spider s 
 mode of capturing her prey which is worthy of 
 special mention. Ordinarily the entanglement of 
 a fly in the web is the work of accident or fate. 
 Gaily buzzing around, careless of anything, save 
 the pursuit of pleasure, and with a blind confidence 
 in her supposed ability to take care of herself, the 
 fly dashes into the web artfully spread in some fa 
 vorite haunt, and in a moment her wings are 
 bound. She may buzz piteously and struggle des 
 perately, but to no avail. She is devoured by the 
 hairy, hideous monster, or only escapes terribly 
 lacerated, unable to compete with her more fortu 
 nate fellow flies in the mad whirl, and an object of 
 pity, if not of contempt. 
 
 The female spider s web, however, is plainly vis 
 ible, and the victim buzzes into it with his eyes 
 open. But he labors under a singular delusion. 
 Judging only from outside appearances, he makes 
 the fatal mistake of believing this spider to be no 
 more than a common fly, all the time fancying he 
 is the spider that is going to devour her. The 
 meshes are woven around him, and still he fails to 
 comprehend the situation. He whets his appetite 
 by gloating over this spider so like a fly in her 
 make-up, as to deceive the very elect of spiders, 
 and more hopelessly entangles himself in the effort 
 to approach nearer. Finally, the critical moment 
 draws near, and with an appetite sharpened by 
 pursuit, he attempts a dinner. He makes a dis- 
 10 
 
146 THE FEMALE SPIDER. 
 
 covery which leaves him utterly bewildered. The 
 fly is not a fly after all, but a spider, infinitely more 
 subtle than his kind. After a desperate struggle 
 he accepts the situation, and becomes a helpless 
 fly, still retaining all the savage instincts of the 
 spider. He suffers the horrors of Tantalus, "in 
 sight of heaven, enduring hell." Dead Sea fruit 
 is his only diet. His spider instincts rage within 
 him, and his fangs whet themselves in impotent 
 rage. This is the female spider s diet. She does 
 not devour him bodily, after the manner of ordinary 
 spiders, but she feeds on his sighs and groans, and 
 his complaining buzzings are music to her ears. 
 He becomes enamored of the thousand delicate 
 little filaments which bind him ; but at times there 
 comes a revulsion, and he makes a fierce struggle 
 for freedom. With a syren song, she again rouses 
 his spider instincts to the pursuit, and weaves a 
 stronger web about him. 
 
 She welcomes to her net those foolish, noisy flies. 
 Here is a great blundering booby of a blue-bottle ; 
 with a pompous strut and a sonorous song, he 
 dashes in the midst of the silken threads, and, like 
 an insect Samson, is straightway taken in the 
 toils. There is something ludicrous in the conster 
 nation with which he meets his defeat, and some 
 thing contemptible in the craven submission with 
 which he suffers himself to be bound, wing and 
 foot, without another effort to accomplish his orig 
 inal purpose. And then comes the rapacious 
 dragon fly, with a noise like the blare of a trum 
 pet. It takes longer to settle him, and he is ever 
 
THE FEMALE SPIDER. 147 
 
 restive in the meshes. And then there is the gad 
 fly, and the horsefly, and the shoo-fly, all finding 
 comfortable entanglement in the web, with an oc 
 casional mosquito, and now and then a gaudy but 
 terfly, odorous with balm of a thousand flowers. 
 It is curious as well as instructive to watch the vin- 
 dictiveness with which the spoiler grabs her prey. 
 There is no "will you w r alk into my parlor air" 
 about her now ; no shy, timid glances as when she 
 lurked in the far corner of her silken den, 
 waiting, watching for the poor, foolish one now 
 writhing beneath her sharp stiletto. All pretense 
 of virtue has vanished. She is only a wrathful, 
 greedy spider, feeding on her helpless victim in 
 gloating silence and with hideous mien. Soon she 
 will have rent those gauzy wings that so lately 
 floated on the ambient air, or have borne away the 
 delicate remains of the feast to her secret larder ; 
 then, with swift and silent shuttle, she will repair 
 the meshes now torn or tangled by the late strug 
 gle, and set her wiles again. 
 
DIED. 
 
 AT THE residence of her father, Miss Flora K. Harding, daugh 
 ter of George C. Harding, aged 19 years. 
 
 A noble life, full of promise, has gone out in 
 shame. She loved much and she suffered much. 
 Her sorrowful soul, released from earth-burdens, 
 has gone to meet its God, to lay before Him the 
 cruel wrongs for which earth has no redress. 
 Poor , fond heart ! ill-starred from birth, your 
 tempestuous beatings are stilled, your restless 
 longings will trouble no more ! Her s was a joy 
 less childhood, warped and distorted by relentless 
 circumstances. Her womanhood is blasted in the 
 bud. Despite unfortunate traits and unhappy 
 moods, in which she seemed to move and act as if 
 under some wierd spell, her underlying nature 
 was noble, generous, unselfish, self-sacrificing, 
 with an honest pride which would scorn to do a 
 mean action. The unhappy circumstances attend 
 ing her childhood had impressed her nature with 
 an ineffaceable tinge of melancholy. She was de 
 spondent always, rather than sanguine. " Papa," 
 she said to me once, when a cherished desire was 
 thwarted, and I was endeavoring to console her ; 
 
DIED. 149 
 
 " don t distress yourself about me. My entire 
 life has been a disappointment." Notwithstand 
 ing the sombre tints in her nature, she was at times 
 almost unnaturally vivacious. But even in her 
 most cheery moments an apparent consciousness 
 of the falseness and hollowness of earthly things 
 could be noted. Her deepest and profoundest 
 feeling, the one which was ever present and was 
 never overshadowed by doubts, or obscured by 
 less worthy sentiments, was love for her unhappy 
 father. This love had taken root in her infantile 
 mind, at an age when impressions are easily 
 effaced, but it grew without nurture, and seemed 
 to strike deeper its roots, and grow more luxuriant 
 in leaf and bloom, the more it was deprived of 
 light and air. It survived absence, apparent neg 
 lect, hostile influences ; and so soon as she was of 
 age she came to the father whose love she had 
 never doubted. 
 
 In her religious nature she was peculiar. She 
 had the profoundest veneration for Deity, and a 
 sublime confidence in his justness, but she had no 
 sympathy with creeds, or the forms of religion. 
 She believed in the law of compensation, and 
 having known but little save unhappiness, she 
 believed that the future, either on earth or in 
 Heaven, had recompense in store for her. She 
 often jested on the subject of suicide, and on 
 one occasion being reproved, and told that God 
 frowned upon self-murder, she said, "Papa, I am 
 not afraid of God." 
 
 There are fewer brighter intellects than Flora s, 
 
150 DIED. 
 
 and her future was full of promise. She had a 
 remarkably felicitous command of language, and 
 was exceedingly versatile. While she knew noth 
 ing of politics, her familiarity with recondite sub 
 jects was wonderful. In reasoning she was subtle 
 and in thought she was powerful and searching. 
 She had determined on literature as a profession, 
 and had she lived, would have made her mark in 
 the world of letters. 
 
 The cruelest reflection in this hour of bitterest 
 agony is that her father might have been less stern 
 and more sympathetic in his intercourse with her, 
 though he could not have loved her more. With 
 two such natures an estrangement is apt to raise 
 up an invisible but impassable barrier, and while 
 there may be no spoken word of unkindness, 
 the reserve is infinitely more cruel and cutting 
 than words could be. The unhappy secret the 
 first withholding of confidence caused such a 
 feeling, and this was only broken down the night 
 before her death, when, on her father s breast, with 
 her arms about his neck, in heart-broken sobs she 
 told him the dreadful story, and pleaded for his 
 forgiveness, not so much for her sin as for the 
 want of confidence in him. All was forgiven, and 
 father and daughter once more reconciled. Even 
 then she had determined on suicide, and that last, 
 heart-breaking interview, so sweet to remember 
 and yet so sad, must be invested with all the sanc 
 tity of a death-bed revelation. 
 
 Through that long last day of suffering I watched 
 with her, alternately cheered by hope and torn with 
 
DIED. 151 
 
 the anguish of despair, and with the last gasp, as the 
 .suffering soul took its tremulous flight, two great 
 tears came from the filmy eyes and rolled over the 
 face, across which was stealing the shadow of the 
 Death Angel. She has gone to her God, who will 
 judge her not by the iron rule which brings all na 
 tures to a common measurement, but according to 
 her deserts. God could not be God without being 
 just, and with him I leave my daughter. But it 
 does seem as if he should have some thunderbolt, 
 red with uncommon wrath, to strike the wretch 
 who pursues his victim, with foul and venomous 
 tongue, into the grave itself. 
 
 Oh loving heart daughter soul-scarred with 
 suffering sinful yet pure and white Farewell ! 
 
BALES, HIMSELF. 
 
 " BALES, you re drunk ! " 
 
 He was sitting on the bridge, his long legs dang 
 ling loosely in the air, while he occasionally 
 squirted tobacco juice into the muddy water of the 
 canal. 
 
 " That s about the size of it, Georgey. You ac 
 cidentally stumbled on the truth that time. As it s 
 the fust offense, though, I won t lay it up agin ye. 
 Yes, I am drunk, moderately. Ef I had a biled 
 owl, I d get drunker nor one." 
 
 " Why don t you go home? " 
 
 Mr. Bales chuckled silently. 
 
 " I reckon, Georgey, you ain t been down about 
 the grocery lately or you d a heerd of it. Fact is, 
 I das nt go home. Been a layin out for three 
 nights. Betse an Lize ud make it extremely on- 
 healthy for me jest now. What s the matter? Well, 
 you jest brush the seat o them striped breeches, 
 an hang them candle sticks o your n over this cat- 
 arict alongside o me, an I ll tell ye. None o 
 your sniggerin , you durned Arab. I ll do all the 
 laughin that s necessary. Gi me a chaw." 
 
 Rolling up a ball of fine cut about the size of a 
 
BALES, HIMSELF. 1 53 
 
 bantam egg, Mr. Bales thrust it into his western 
 jaw, and continued. 
 
 " Did I tell you bout Betse an Lize gettin fash 
 ionable? Yes? Well, you see, it has allus gone 
 agin the grain with me, this tomfoolery o hair an 
 hoops, an bustles, but et you know anything about 
 women, George, an I reckon you do, you know a 
 man might jest as well give in fust as last, fur they 
 will have their own way, durn em. An by the 
 way, did it ever strike you that they re gittin to be 
 bigger fools every year? It ain t only the grownup 
 women as makes skeerkrows of themselves, but 
 the little gals, who should be makin dirt pies, or 
 ridin a see-saw a-straddle, has got at it, an are 
 jest as big fools as their sisters. Every brat ten 
 years old must have her shinnion, an her high- 
 heeled shoes, an her flubdubberies. And what s 
 wuss, the old uns encourages em in it. Every lit 
 tle chit must carry herself like a lady, as they call 
 it, an they even go so fur as to counterfeit natur , 
 to make em appear older n they are. D ye notice, 
 George, what a percocious d velopment there is 
 bout the bosom o these little critters? Cotton? Of 
 course it s cotton, or rags, or bran, or somethin of 
 the kind. We all know it ain t natur , for natur 
 never makes any show o that kind until there s 
 some use for it, and in this here temprit zone the 
 sex is hardly calc lated for the juties o maternity 
 at the age o ten years. But w at s the use o this 
 sham? Now, w en a full grown woman finds her 
 self lackin in this matter o shape, I can t say as I 
 kin blame her for flyin to curled hair, Spanish 
 
154 BALES, HIMSELF. 
 
 moss, or cotton. There is some excuse fur her. 
 Leastways there s a motive in it. 
 
 " I tell you, George, the female portion o the 
 great North American race ripens soon enough fur 
 any use, an it don t need any hot-house fur em. 
 About Betse? Well, I m comin to that. You see 
 Lize has been going to school, an soshiatin with 
 grown-up gals until her durned tow-head is full o 
 fashion an fellers, an gittin married. But that s 
 not the worst of it. George, would you b leeve it? 
 Betse has got it worse than Lize. She s got to 
 runnin with that old catamaran, Mrs. Flounce, the 
 milliner, an she s been adding to her fooleries, 
 little by little, until she comes out in what she calls 
 full dress. She s a regular show. She keeps the 
 house stunk up with all sorts o perfumes, an puts 
 pow^der an some sort o chalky stuff they call 
 " Sweet Sixteen" on her face. An then she con 
 cluded she must give a party to a lot o old hens 
 and their broods which she has got acquainted with 
 in the neighborhood. She kept it devilish sly from 
 me, only I saw there was a heap o fixin up an 
 bakin goin on. Last Tuesday night I went home 
 an found Lize in an awful splutter. She hed on a 
 new white dress made with low neck an short 
 sleeves, an on the table was lyin one o them 
 monstrous hair fixins which they call Shetlin 
 braids. You know what I mean, George one o 
 them things made o rolls o dead people s hair 
 over a frame-w r ork of somethin cheaper, an three 
 tails o curled hair a-hangin alone. It was a trifle 
 less n a hay-cock in size, but it made an awful 
 
BALES, HIMSELF. 155 
 
 pile. An then Lize told me about the party, an 
 you kin bet your bottom entrail I was hoppin mad. 
 I d d around right lively for a while, but Lize 
 took it cool, an told me to keep my shirt on. An 
 then I said, sort o sourkastic like, says I : 
 
 "Lize, you d better keep your own shirt on. 
 Leastways you d better put on one that s a little 
 longer at the top." 
 
 You see Lize ain t no use fur any o that cotton 
 or curled hair we was talkin about, and she s fool 
 enough to be proud o her white skin. When I 
 told her that she didn t blush a durned bit. She 
 only laughed, an told me to " Honey swot kee 
 Molly Pouse ! " Now what n hell d ye s pose the 
 wench meant by that lingo, George? I don t know 
 Molly Pouse, an what s she got to do with it, any 
 how? Reckon she s one o them whisk-y, frisky, 
 teeterin , gigglin heifers at the seminary where 
 Lize is gettin polished. But I ain t a-goin to be 
 "honey swotted" at by any one o my own kids. 
 I tell you I was madder n a bull fur a little while, 
 an I got out a green cowhide which I keep to lick 
 the dogs with, an I had a devil uv a notion to 
 give Lize about twenty-five, and Betse a hundred, 
 but I thought better of it. You see, George, I ve 
 alms been a drunken, hell-raisin , trifling, or nary 
 cuss ; but I never yit lifted a hand agin the wife of 
 my bosom, an never felt like it till she got to be 
 sech a durned fool. I b leeve with the play actors, 
 that the man who raises a hand agin a woman, 
 cept when she deserves it, is a coward whom it 
 were base flattery to call an insect. So, instead o 
 
156 BALES, HIMSELF. 
 
 lammin Lize, I sot down in a corner an sulked. 
 Bimeby she went down stairs to consult with 
 Betse, an I went to the mantle board to light a 
 seegyar, when I seen a bottle o medicine. Jest 
 about that time, George, an idee struck me, an I 
 laid down on the floor an laughed until I nearly 
 busted a blood-vessel. I must tell you about the 
 medicine. It was for Betse. Sick? Bless you, 
 no ! She never was sick a day in her life, cept on 
 occasions when, cordin to my idees, it s no dis 
 grace to be sick, an then she made mighty short 
 work o it. But you see sence she got to runnin 
 with that old catamaran, she hed heerd her tellin 
 about her durned nerves, until Betse come to think 
 a woman couldn t be respectable thout she was 
 nervous. Just think o Betse with nerves ! It s 
 the most ree-dicklus idee ever heerd of. But any 
 way she sent fur old Bolus, an he perscribed fur 
 her nerves. George, d ye know anything bout 
 drugs? Yes? Well, then, you know there s 
 nothin in the entire Mattera Medico as stinks 
 worse n the valerianate of ammonia. It ain t a 
 good square stink like assyfitity, which you can 
 wash off, or throw into the alley, but it is the aw- 
 fulest, pukinest smell in the world, more stinkin n 
 limburg cheese, an when you once git it on you it 
 hangs on like the seven year each. Well, this 
 medicine t old Bolus give Betse for er nerves"- 
 (Here Mr. Bales laughed inwardly and quietly for 
 fifty seconds) "was mainly composed of valeria 
 nate of ammonia. Long as you kep it corked 
 tight it didn t matter, but the idee which I heve 
 
BALES, HIMSELF. I 57 
 
 heretofore mentioned as havin struck me, didn t 
 comprise the keepin of it corked tight. So I jest 
 emptied the entire bottle in Lize s Shetlin braid, 
 an then jumped into a biled shirt, put on my vel 
 vet close, an notified Mrs. Bales that I d make 
 one o that festive gatherin myself, ef she had no 
 objections. Betse didn t like it, but she couldn t 
 make any reasonable objection. So I tuk root in 
 the parlor, an waited for the company. 
 
 That old Jezebel Flounce was the fust arrival, of 
 course, an then came, one arter another, Wash 
 Simpkins with his gal, an Bill Porter with his gal, 
 an a lot o counterhoppers with their gals, an a 
 whole lot o others dropped in sort o permiscuous, 
 an finally Charley Shannon, who s disposed to be 
 sweet on Lize, sneaked in, lookin mighty oneasy 
 in a new suit an a pair o green kids. Lize was a 
 little late in gettin dow^n, but she finally sailed in, 
 lookin mighty nice, I must say. I must tell you, 
 George, somethin about Lize, which you probably 
 never knew, though you ve known her sence she 
 was knee high to a duck. She can t smell a 
 durned bit. She s r_ ghtily ashamed of it, an is 
 always smellin flowers, an savin , " how nice I " 
 when at the same time she might go right through 
 Si Keek s soap factory, an never know the differ 
 ence, thout somebody told her. Well, when Lize 
 cum into the room a bowin and simperin, and put- 
 tin on an immense amount of style, thar was sum- 
 thin of a kermotion among the crowd. Old 
 Flounce held her nose, an Betse s face got red- 
 der n a beat, while the young men looked at each 
 
158 BALES, HIMSELF. 
 
 other, an kind o snickered. Lize went around 
 among her company makin herself agreeable, but 
 somehow the young men didn t seem to hanker 
 arter her ez they used to, and would make some 
 excuse to sidle off. Then the gals begun to turn 
 pale bout the gills, an bimeby one arter another 
 they slid out, a-holdin thar noses on the sly. All 
 this time I was a-settin in the corner, looking 
 mighty demure. Betse finally whispered sumthin 
 in Lize s ear, an she blushed scarlet, and then 
 bolted up stairs. Then when I seed Betse a work- 
 in over towards my corner, I gathered my hat and 
 cut. I begun to conclude it wasn t healthy fur me 
 about thar. Ez I was lumberin up the street, 
 chucklin all over, I found Charley Shannon, with 
 his arm around a lamp post, a pukin in the gutter. 
 He s a mighty finnicky sort o a young man any 
 how, an I really thought he d turn inside out. 
 Says I: "Mr. Shannon, I m ashamed o you. 
 Who d a thought as nice a young man as you d git 
 bilin drunk when he was goin into serciety?" 
 Says he : " Bales, I aint drunk. I am only sick." 
 Says I : "What made ye sick, Charley?" The 
 young man didn t know, but said he s pected he d 
 swallered a fly ! 
 
 And that s how I come to be lavin out for the 
 past three days, Georgey. I was around pers- 
 pectin this mornin to see ef it d be safe to venture 
 back, and from sum remarks I overheard Betse an 
 Lize makin techin the undersigned, I concluded 
 it won t be wholesome. They was a diggin a hole 
 in the back vard to burv the shinnion in, and Betse 
 
BALES, HIMSELF. 159 
 
 declared she d hev a divorce, ef she hed to move 
 back to Injanny to get it. But she jest wanted to 
 lay hands on me. Wouldn t she give me hankins ! 
 I tell ye, George, I never saw her so worked up, 
 an I m gettin kind o oneasy bout it. Couldn t 
 you step round an mollify the old lady? Tell her 
 ef I d knowed it was goin to stink so, I wouldn t 
 a done it. In the meantime, let s go down to the 
 S Nichelus an get some isters. 
 
MOON-STRUCK. 
 
 I WONDER if any of my readers ever had a 
 moon-stroke. Of course I do not mean the kind 
 of stroke to which masculine humanity is pecu 
 liarly liable between the ages of eighteen and 
 twenty-two, the effects of which are loss of appe 
 tite, the purchase of a rhyming dictionary, and 
 lavish expenditure for perfumed hair oil, a cultiva 
 tion of shirt collars and a disposition to moonlight 
 promenades, and furnace-like sighs. Such a 
 stroke as that comes from a pair of bright eyes, 
 rather than the full-orbed moon, and, I take it, 
 every man who has something more than mere 
 muscle thumping against the ribs of his left side, 
 has had it at least once in his life. When I speak 
 of a moon-stroke, I mean the mysterious and in 
 explicable influence which that white, deceitful, 
 and lovely orb exercises on the human organism 
 under certain circumstances an influence which 
 baffles the surgeon s skill, and drives men to mad 
 ness and death. 
 
 Perhaps some skeptical reader may doubt the 
 existence of such a thing as a moon-stroke. I 
 know such things have been. And why not? 
 
MOON-STRUCK. l6l 
 
 The moon exercises an influence a palpable and 
 powerful, but incomprehensible influence on the 
 tides on vegetation on the weather on the tem 
 per and temperament of individuals, Ask your 
 Dutch gardener. He will tell you that the moon 
 exercises a decided influence on vegetation ; that 
 certain crops which bear their fruit beneath the 
 earth must be planted in the " dark " of the moon, 
 and that other crops, which bear fruit above 
 ground, must be planted in the "light" of the 
 moon. A farmer will also tell you that rails made 
 of a tree cut in the dark of the moon will rot 
 quicker than those cut when the moon is full. 
 These things may be sneered at, but experience is 
 often in advance of science. I, for one, believe in 
 the moon. I believe that it meddles to an unwar 
 rantable extent with sub-lunar affairs. I believe 
 that it also exercises a baneful influence on people 
 under certain circumstances. I have seen sailors 
 off the Florida coast, lying down to sleep beneath 
 a brilliant tropical moon, take as much pains to 
 shield themselves from its beams as they would 
 to protect them from the fierce rays of the tropi 
 cal sun. Sailors are naturally superstitious, and 
 those of whom I speak firmly believed that it 
 was almost certain death to fall asleep in the glare 
 of a full moon. A grain of truth is found at the 
 bottom of most popular superstitions, and so it 
 proved with regard to this. At the time I was 
 skeptical. Afterwards I came to believe fully in 
 the superstitions of the sailors on the Florida coast. 
 I was moon-struck myself. This is how it came 
 11 
 
l62 MOON-STRUCK. 
 
 about. I was in the arm}-, a ferocious, rebel-eat 
 ing defender of my country. The regiment to 
 which I was attached went to New Orleans \vith 
 the cock-eyed warrior nicknamed "the Beast," 
 and was among the first to land at the wharf, its 
 splendid brass band, w r ith a grim humor worthy of 
 Suwarrow, striking up 
 
 " Picayune Butler s coming, coming 
 Picayune Butler s coming to town," 
 
 as the cable was made fast, for the delectation of 
 the rebel riff-raff which thronged the wharf to wit 
 ness the landing of the Goths and Vandals. After 
 performing "prodigies of valor" for a month, in 
 the way of picking up stray steamboats from their 
 hiding places in the neighboring rivers and bay 
 ous, exhuming brass cannons buried in the swamps 
 and sacking an interior town in revenge for the 
 murder of two of our men, we were ordered to 
 Baton Rouge, and encamped in a beautiful mag 
 nolia grove about a mile from the river, with a 
 cheerful grave-yard in front and another on the 
 left flank. By one of those happy oversights which 
 occur in rapid movements, we left our tents behind 
 at Algiers, and didn t get them for a fortnight. 
 The grove in which we pitched our camp-kettjes 
 was one of the loveliest spots in the entire South. 
 The stately magnolias, in full bloom, loaded the 
 atmostphere with their delicious fragrance, while 
 smaller trees, matted with a luxuriant overgrowth 
 of muscadines and wild grape vines, formed nat 
 ural arbors, impervious to rain or dew. Hundreds 
 of wild mocking birds fluttered among the fol- 
 
MOON-STRUCK. 163 
 
 iage, while little chameleon lizards, now bright 
 green, and then a dull bark color, hung by their 
 heels, head downward, and curiously ogled, with 
 their bright, twinkling eyes, the sun-browned and 
 dirty intruders, who lolled beneath the trees, and 
 with boisterous shouts disturbed the solitude. It 
 was just on the outskirts of the town, with neat 
 residences-, rose-embowered and hedged in with 
 the lovely white jessamine, then in full flower, on 
 one hand, and near by corn fields, with fences 
 overgrown with the Cherokee rose, a luxuriant 
 vining shrub, bearing a profusion of white flowers. 
 It was near the full moon, in the lovely month of 
 June, and, lulled by the drowsy hum of myriad in 
 sects, the men would lie down after tattoo beneath 
 the grape arbors or around the gnarled roots of 
 the magnolias, in the glorious light of a Southern 
 moon, sifted through the green enameled leaves, or 
 poured in floods of radiance through the open spaces, 
 the glare being strong enough to render ordinary 
 newspaper print readable. The regiment was in 
 high health, and so long as it did not rain, no one 
 cared for tents in this delightful weather and with 
 such surroundings. 
 
 A few nights of this life, however, were enough 
 to put a large number of men on the sick list. 
 They did not know what was the matter with them, 
 and, strange enough, neither did the surgeons. 
 They complained of no particular pain, but a 
 strange and oppressive feeling, in which the blood 
 in the veins seemed like molten lead, and brain 
 and heart struggled beneath the weight of some in- 
 
164 MOON-STRUCK. 
 
 tolerable burthen. Many took to the hospital and 
 soon got well, while others, with that horror of 
 hospital life which every good soldier feels, clung 
 to the camp and grew rapidly worse. Soon it got 
 whispered around that it was the moon, and the 
 more prudent of the men took care to shield them 
 selves from its baneful influence. 
 
 I was moon-struck with the rest. 
 
 I had been sleeping at the root of a large mag 
 nolia with a favorite sergeant, and soon began to 
 feel some weird influence unsettling and disorgan 
 izing my nervous system. I often awoke in the 
 night with a start, a nameless terror lying upon 
 me, and found the moonlight falling full upon my 
 face, while the dismal owls hooted and chattered 
 in the branches overhead. My comrade was af 
 fected similarly, only more . severely. He was 
 taken to the hospital, and, without any apparent 
 physical cause, died raving mad. Finally, I be 
 thought me of the superstition of the Florida sail 
 ors, and henceforth shunned the moonlight. In a 
 short time my symptoms disappeared, and I recov 
 ered from my moon-stroke. But I have never been 
 on good terms with that deceitful planet since. 
 
 If any one is disposed to doubt this supposed in 
 fluence of the moon, let me call his attention to 
 the phenomena of sun-stroke. What is it that 
 causes men to drop and die in the streets of our 
 crowded cities in July and August? Not the mere 
 matter of heat, certainly ; for men who work in 
 engine rooms and about furnaces can bear many 
 more degrees of heat, with little or no inconve- 
 
MOON-STRUCK. 165 
 
 nience, than that which kills people by a sun-stroke. 
 A puddler in a rolling mill is literally roasted 
 every day of his life, and men have been known to 
 go into an oven with a roast of beef and remain 
 until the meat was thoroughly cooked. It is some 
 chemical action of the sun s ravs which produces 
 death. And is it not possible that there is a per 
 nicious and fatal chemistry in a tropical moon 
 light? 
 
DOGS THAT I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 ALL my life I have been an admirer of dogs so 
 much so, that I never meet one in the street, if he 
 be at all presentable, without an inclination to stop 
 and exchange compliments of the day to tell him 
 the political news and business prospects, and re 
 ceive in exchange an account of his chase of the 
 neighbor s cat last night ; his tremendous fight with 
 the rural dog under wood-hauler s wagon, and his 
 luck or ill luck in foraging for bones. There is so 
 much human nature in dogs, that I can not find it 
 in my heart to deny them the possession of souls 
 to lose or save, were it not for one peculiarity so 
 utterly out of character as to overset the human 
 hypothesis, and reduce my four-legged friends to 
 the level of brutish beasts. To begin with the hu 
 man characteristics of the dog. What is more hu 
 man than the conduct of a dog in a dog fight? I 
 don t mean his fight the fight which he originates, 
 and in which he is immediately concerned the 
 fight in which he gets his ears lacerated and his- 
 legs " chawed" off. I speak of fights in which he 
 ought to be a disinterested spectator, were he not 
 
DOGS THAT I HAVE KNOWN. 167 
 
 possessed of human weaknesses. Look at Crunch 
 asleep on the doorstep. Drays and omnibusses 
 thunder over the stony street children play around 
 him, and there he lies, " dreaming of chase or 
 fray." Touch him with your foot and he lazily un 
 closes one eye, sees that it is only a silly joke, and 
 relapses into the arms of the canine Morpheus, 
 perhaps with a muttered anathema, in dog latin, 
 on your inconsiderate interference with his post 
 prandial siesta. But let a dog fight be inaugurated 
 anywhere within a radius of two squares, and wit 
 ness the marvelous transformation. In an instant 
 he is quivering with excitement. Taking the bear 
 ings of the sound, he rushes off at headlong speed, 
 falling in with other dogs bent on the same errand. 
 He runs cheek by jowl with his bitterest enemy 
 the dog across the way without stopping to snarl 
 at him. Arriving at the ground, he and all the 
 other spectators pitch in without knowing anything 
 of the merits of the dispute, invariably fastening 
 on the under dog. In this way I have seen some 
 poor fiste attacked by a larger dog, literally lifted 
 off the ground by the arrival of reinforcements a 
 dozen canine muzzles fastened upon him, each 
 pulling in a contrary direction. 
 
 This is eminently human. ^ 
 
 When a fellow-creature gets a start down hill, 
 everybody hastens to give an accelerating kick. 
 
 The parallel is a little short, however, and the 
 dog .is beneath the human in this, that he respects 
 sex. No dog, however dissipated or depraved, is 
 
1 68 UOGS THAT I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 mean enough to attack a female. With human 
 creatures, sex is a matter of no account. 
 
 Again ; notice your dog when he comes suddenly 
 upon a female of the species. What a sudden and 
 complete transformation, and how positively hand 
 some he makes himself, all at once. [Charles 
 Reade has alluded to this in one of his novels, 
 but it is true, nevertheless.] How we are reminded 
 of certain two-legged puppies by the sudden friski- 
 ness which has overtaken our four-legged friend. 
 
 Now w-e come to the evidence for the defense. 
 
 The dog is unlike the human in this, that there 
 is no dross of selfishness in his friendships. The 
 dog is not mercenary. He is a faithful friend until 
 death. In the language of the pathetic little ballad 
 of "Old Dog Tray," which some of my friends 
 may have heard some years since 
 
 "Beef can not coax him away." 
 
 No odds how poor you are, or how insufficiently 
 your larder may be supplied, the dog you have 
 raised from a pup is constant in his love. He will 
 cheerfully endure cold, hunger and cruel treatment, 
 rather than give you up. He does not desert you 
 in misfortune, but is constant through life, and in 
 this is either more or less than human. 
 
 But this generalization will never do. I started 
 out to tell of individual dogs not to write a dog 
 matic essay on dogs in the abstract. 
 
 The first dog of any character I remember was 
 "Old Bounce." O. B. was a " yaller" brindle, 
 more mastiff than anything else, and had lived 
 long in this cruel world, during which time he had 
 
DOGS THAT I HAVE KNOWN. 169 
 
 established a character for honesty, truth and 
 veracity which was the envy and admiration of 
 every dog in the neighborhood. Old Bounce 
 could be trusted with untold meat, and could sleep 
 with a sheep without developing a "hankering" 
 for mutton. He never lied by barking up an 
 empty tree in squirrel hunting, and was reliable as 
 a watch-dog. When I first knew Old Bounce he 
 was a pensioner on full pay, being kept in affluence 
 on account of the good he had done. Strange as 
 it may seem, having passed through the dangers of 
 puppyhood and doghood with honor untarnished, 
 Bounce became demoralized in his old age. One 
 day some hams were put out to sun, and one of 
 them was missing when it came to a count. There 
 was consternation in the household. Circumstan 
 tial evidence pointed to Old Bounce, but they were 
 loth to suspect him. Patram, one of the colored 
 people, volunteered to solve the problem with a 
 little black fiste belonging to him. The fiste was 
 brought up to the scene of the theft, and being a 
 shrewd dog, was made to understand what was 
 required of him. He circled around the locality, 
 and finally struck a trail leading off through the 
 fields in the direction of a willow swamp about a 
 quarter of mile from the house. Old Bounce was 
 lying half asleep in the sun, lazily looking on, but 
 when the fiste took the trail, he manifested unusual 
 interest for an old dog in the proceedings. He 
 followed the crowd, overtook the little dog, and, 
 with erect bristles, remonstrated against his med 
 dling in the ham business. It is possible that he 
 
1 7 DOGS THAT I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 even offered to bribe him with a liberal dividend 
 of the meat, but the faithful detective scorned his 
 anger and his promises. As the party neared the 
 swamp, Old B. got more uneasy his bristles 
 stiffened like spikes of iron, and his growling, as 
 he planted himself in front of the little dog, be 
 came fiercer and more threatening. Finally the 
 little dog stopped at a point where there were 
 signs of the earth having been freshly stirred, and 
 began to dig. Then Old Bounce bounced on him 
 and began to "eat him up," but was beaten off. 
 Patram took a stick and soon exhumed the miss 
 ing ham, whereupon Bounce tucked his tail be 
 tween his legs and sneaked off. He could never 
 look one of the family in the face after that. Re 
 morse, like a vulture, gnawed at his vitals, and he 
 went into a rapid decline. 
 
 The recollection of another dog lingers pleas 
 antly in the memory of early boyhood. He was a 
 nondescript, apparently made up of half a dozen 
 different breeds short and corpulent, with little 
 legs looking like sticks driven into his absurd 
 body. " Ring s " best hold was rabbit hunting 
 not that he ever caught a rabbit, for he couldn t 
 catch a terrapin in a square race but he was 
 beastly fond of the sport. I am wrong, however, 
 in saying he never caught a rabbit. He did catch 
 one. It was chased by other dogs, and jumped 
 through a crack in a worm fence. Ring, who 
 was watching the chase through the fence, caught 
 the hare " on the fly." He always accompanied 
 us on our rabbit hunting excursions, and fre- 
 
DOGS THAT I HAVE KNOWN. Ijl 
 
 quently had to be carried home, either i giving 
 out" on account of his corpulency, or running 
 sideways against a tree and breaking his back. 
 He moved best in straight lines, and was a poor 
 dog on a curve or sharp turn. Ring was one of 
 those dogs who are constantly overestimating their 
 powers. With a word of encouragement he would 
 fly at the largest bull dog, running at the top of 
 his speed until he arrived within a couple of rods 
 of the enemy, when his gait would "gradually 
 slacken until, just previous to the moment of im 
 pact, he would come to a dead halt, and the 
 threatened fight would end in inglorious smelling, 
 and scratching the earth with hind feet. At the 
 start and for the first fifty yards, Ring would be 
 fully impressed with the idea that he was going to 
 eat the big dog, body and bones, but his courage 
 oozed as the distance diminished, until, when it 
 came to actual contact, he was the meekest and 
 most conciliatory of dogs. R ng came to his 
 death in a horrible manner. One day while hunt 
 ing rabbits with a mixed pack of curs, bull dogs 
 and bull terriers, we "treed" a coon in a brush 
 pile. Ring s education went no farther than rab 
 bits, but he was a meddlesome and inquisitive ani 
 mal, and worked himself into the heap until he 
 came upon the coon in front, and quietly began to 
 smell it. Cooney fastened on his nose with a 
 death grip, and Ring set up a dreadful "yowl." 
 
 At this critical moment a white bull terrier, noted 
 for his prowess in fights, and for the smooth dex 
 terity with which he could bite off a pig s tail close 
 
172 DOGS THAT I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 to the root, worked his way through the heap on 
 the opposite side, and seized the coon in the rear. 
 " Bob " held to the coon, and the coon held to 
 Ring, so that both were dragged through the heap 
 and out in the open air. By one of those awkward 
 mistakes which will happen with the best regulated 
 dogs, in the hurry of business, the other dogs fas 
 tened on poor Ring instead of the coon, and he 
 was literally torn to pieces, while the coon escaped. 
 They felt badly about it, after it was all over, but 
 as Ring looked as much like a coon as a dog, the 
 mistake was quite natural. 
 
 "Music" was another remarkable dog with 
 which I enjoyed an intimate acquaintance. He 
 was a hound, coal black and tan, with long, pend 
 ant ears, and the most magnificent voice I ever 
 heard. He could fill the entire woods with it. It 
 was deep, sonorous, capable of extraordinary mod 
 ulation, and full of melody. I do not remember 
 anything finer than the cry of this dog, reverber 
 ating through the hills and valleys, and it was one 
 of his characteristics to give tongue as readily 
 in pursuit of a weasel as he would have done in a 
 bear chase. Music was designed for foxes, but never 
 having had any education in that line, his genius 
 was expended on rabbits, squirrels, coons, and 
 other small game. He belonged to a relation in 
 the country whom I used to visit, and was passion 
 ately fond of the chase. He would go out by him 
 self, strike a coon trail, follow it to the coon s 
 harbor, in some hollow tree, and then take the 
 " back track." Thus he would go back and forth 
 
DOGS THAT I HAVE KNOWN. 173 
 
 for hours, making the forest resound with his me 
 lodious yells. Music was not devoid of personal 
 courage. Indeed, when pressed to the wall, he 
 would fight savagely, and always to win. But in 
 his intercourse with man or boy he was the most 
 abject coward I ever saw r . Make a motion to strike 
 him, and he would whop over on his back, and lie 
 there shivering in pitiful terror, emitting a fresh 
 howl with every motion of the threatening arm. 
 With true boyish malignity I used to terrify poor 
 Music in this manner, until one day an occurrence, 
 as horrible as it was ridiculous, and altogether too 
 painful to relate, put an end to this persecution on 
 my part. Music finally got into bad odor with the 
 neighbors, on account of certain transactions in 
 mutton, and was given away to a mover. The last 
 I ever saw of him he was tied to the rear axle of 
 the wagon, where they hang the tar bucket, and 
 was mournfully trotting westward ho ! 
 
 A Newfoundland, with which I was on excellent 
 terms, once conducted himself in a manner excess 
 ively human. Some spoiled hams had been thrown 
 out, and Major took one of them and buried it be 
 hind the Methodist church. Just as he was shov 
 eling the dirt over his commissary stores, his master 
 came out, and started up town. Major left the job 
 unfinished, and followed his master. A little, half- 
 starved mongrel, who had been watching the pro 
 ceedings, \vent to the hole as soon as Major was 
 out of sight, and began to unearth the treasure. 
 It happened that Major s master did not stay long 
 up town, and in passing the church on the return trip 
 
174 DOGS THAT I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 the dog remembered the ham, and thought he might 
 as well finish the job. He came upon the scene of ac 
 tion just as the little thief was tugging at the shank, 
 in the effort to drag the ham away. Maje came 
 down on him like an avalanche, with an explosion 
 of fierce barks, an angry mouthing, and an ener 
 getic " wooling, 1 which augured speedy death to 
 the little culprit, who was howling dismally in hope 
 less terror. It was soon evident, however, that 
 Maje scorned to hurt so small a dog, and that he 
 was only teaching him a lesson through the medium 
 of salutary fright. After shaking and wallow 
 ing him in the dirt, he stood astride of him, and, 
 looking down upon the little wretch, who was lying- 
 still as death, growled fiercely. After standing- 
 over him for a couple of minutes, Maje slowly with 
 drew, looking backward as he went. At the 
 slightest movement of the little dog towards getting 
 up, Maje would return and give him another shak 
 ing. Finally, after getting away a dozen yards, 
 and finding the little rascal made no attempt to get 
 up, Maje gave him a parting growl, and trotted oft , 
 leaving both ham and dog. As soon as the little 
 dog found his oppressor had really gone, he got up 
 with alacrity, and made remarkable time in getting 
 away, without even taking a farewell smell of the 
 ham which had seduced him from the path of rec 
 titude. 
 
 I once knew a dog a low breed, " yaller," long- 
 bodied fiste, with short and very crooked legs 
 that would go on the opposite side of a tree and 
 shake a bush, to frighten the squirrel around so that 
 
DOGS THAT I HAVE KNOWN. 175 
 
 you could get a shot at it. I don t ask anybody to 
 believe this story. I shouldn t believe it myself, if 
 I had not seen it, time and again. 
 
 In the town of C n, Illinois, is, or was, a 
 
 dog whose facial expression inevitably reminded 
 you of a merchant in the same town. The like 
 ness was startling, and attracted the attention of 
 even strangers. This dog was positively the ug 
 liest and most ill-favored animal I ever saw, and 
 yet he was a general favorite with everybody. A 
 kindly, genial expression shone through the crust 
 of his horrid ugliness of countenance, and he had 
 a deprecatory, apologetic air, which seemed to 
 say, "Good people, I know it; but I can t help 
 it really I mean no harm by it." So striking 
 
 was the likeness between the dog and M , 
 
 that he was called by the merchant s name. The 
 latter was annoyed to the verge of distraction by 
 it, and offered a fabulous price for the dog, with a 
 view to expatriation ; but the owner, who disliked 
 the merchant, refused to sell at any price. 
 
 A peculiarity about dogs in general is the man 
 ner in which they reflect the characteristics of 
 their masters. I can tell any lady s peculiarities 
 of temper much more satisfactorily by cultivating 
 and studying her lap-dog than any phrenologist 
 can by feeling her head. The dog naturally ac 
 quires much of the disposition of his master. 
 
 I could fill columns with anecdotes of dogs that 
 I have known, but with one more example I will 
 leave the subject. I once had a dog a large, 
 lumbering, corn-colored whelp whose antipathy 
 
176 DOGS THAT I HAVE KNOWN. 
 
 was cats. Pomp was an inveterate cat hunter. 
 He hunted them in the gray light of the early 
 morning, at noon, by moonlight at all times : and 
 would snake a cat out of a door-step or window, 
 and slay it with admirable dexterity. Our own 
 cat he would not exactly kill, but he would take 
 her out and bury her in the snow, and worry her 
 until she was on the point of giving up the ghost. 
 Pomp was a quarrelsome dog, and constantly en 
 gaged in fights with his neighbors. He had a 
 curious system of defense which was entirely 
 original with him. He would deliver his attack, 
 and when his antagonist turned upon him, instead 
 of presenting his front, like other dogs, he would 
 present his rear. Other dogs could never fathom 
 the depth of this strategy, and Pomp generally 
 came off victor. I am inclined to think that this 
 system of defense originated in Pomp s personal 
 vanity. He thought too much of the beauty of his 
 face to imperil it by meeting an attack in the usual 
 way. When it rained, Pomp became a different 
 dog. He would lie for a week at a time growling 
 at everybody and everything, but never moving 
 unless punched up with a pole. He finally fell a 
 victim to hydrophobia. 
 
DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA. 
 
 In the fall and winter of 1862, the writer played 
 for a short time an unimportant engagement as 
 prisoner of war. Unlike thousands who dragged 
 out a miserable existence for one or two years in 
 the crowded prison pens of Georgia or North Car 
 olina, his lot was cast in a section of country which 
 had, as yet, but few prisoners, and where the few 
 they did have were generally well treated, and fur 
 nished with abundance of food, not such as an epi 
 cure would select from an ample bill of fare, but 
 wholesome in quality. The period of my confine 
 ment was most refreshingly brief, being only two 
 months, inclusive of fourteen days at the Washing 
 ton Hotel in Vicksburg. In company with a small 
 number of Western men, the writer was sent down 
 with a detachment of the 8th Vermont, which had 
 been gobbled at Bayou des Allemands, under cir 
 cumstances not particularly creditable to the offi 
 cers in command, having surrendered a partially 
 fortified position, defended by cannon, without fir 
 ing a shot. To signify his disapprobation of the 
 surrender, Old Strabismus ordered the whole de- 
 12 
 
178 DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA. 
 
 tachment to Ship Island, to await exchange. Now ? 
 the writer knew something of Ship Island a bleak, 
 desolate patch of barrenness, with its infernal 
 winds, and drifting sands, and its scarcity of edi 
 bles and whatever views Gen. Butler might en 
 tertain of its salubrity, he determined he would not 
 go there, at least not without a struggle. Court- 
 martial lost its terrors when the recollection of Ship 
 Island returned in all its horrid freshness. So the 
 writer bolted ran away not to put too fine a point 
 on it, deserted. And that is how he came to know 
 so much about duck shooting in Louisiana. 
 
 My regiment was lying mostly at Brashear City, 
 some companies detailed for naval service on the 
 gunboats, and the balance sloshing round miscel 
 laneously. Our sutler, John McMillan, was mak 
 ing up a sugar crop on Osgood s plantation, about 
 fifteen miles above the city of New Orleans Mr. 
 Osgood s negroes having run away and left the old 
 gentleman in the lurch with a fine crop of cane, 
 and no means of converting it into sugar. Ed. 
 Parsley and John Bodfish were trying their hands 
 at " overseeing," and, being a particular friend of 
 Ed. s, the Osgood plantation offered extraordinary 
 inducements to a prisoner on parole; with the de 
 lights Ship Island held in terror em over his head. 
 Plantation life in the sugar season is exhilarating 
 and interesting. The busy hands hauling and 
 stripping cane, and clearing away " bagasse " the 
 immense steaming kettles, with their queer names 
 the excitement of making "a strike," and the 
 wild barbaric chant of the dusky, perspiring sugar 
 
DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA. 179 
 
 boilers are all interesting to the stranger. The 
 sugar boilers are improvisator es on a grand scale, 
 and will continue for hours, weaving the most com 
 monplace incidents as well a*s the wildest fancies of 
 Obeah and Voudoo superstition into their chants, 
 and the effect sometimes is wierd, and unearthly to 
 an almost painful degree. At these times the sav 
 age element in the African seems to reassert itself, 
 and the civilization he has absorbed is, for the 
 nonce, overshadowed by his barbaric nature. I 
 had taken notes of some of these wild improvisa 
 tions, but regret to say they have been lost, and 
 treacherous memory fails to recall their burden. 
 The favorite, however, was the-chorus of 
 
 " Old Stormy, storm, storm along," 
 
 roared out in a grand combination of powerful 
 voices, with a running commentary of such inci 
 dents and fancies as occurred to the leader and 
 composer, who was known to the white folks only 
 as "Old Stormy." 
 
 Getting a little tired of plantation life, I cast about 
 me for something more exciting than grinding 
 cane and studying African character. Borrowing 
 a gun, I began a series of explorations on the verge 
 of the swamp back of the plantation, occasionally 
 bagging a few snipe, a rail, heron or a brace of 
 black, worthless ducks, and making havoc among 
 the great flocks of crows which infested the planta 
 tion. In one of these excursions I wandered down 
 to the neighboring plantation below, belonging to 
 a fat and jolly Creole Frenchman named Cavalier. 
 
l8o DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA. 
 
 A couple of green-winged teal, passing by, fell to 
 a double shot, which I flattered myself was rather 
 neat, and while examining the beautiful birds and 
 congratulating myself that my right arm had not 
 forgotten its cunning, old Cavalier, mounted on a 
 trifle of a mule, wearing a broad-brimmed, ginger- 
 colored felt chapeau, which he had converted into 
 an impromptu cocked hat, giving him something 
 of the appearance of the Third Reader pictures of 
 the great Napoleon, rode up and congratulated me 
 on the shot. It was easy to see that the old man was 
 something of a sportsman, and his eyes glistened 
 as he told me in his broken English about the good 
 shooting down the bayou and out at the lake. He 
 volunteered to lend me a pirogue and a negro 
 to paddle it, so that I might enjoy a good day s 
 duck shooting. I was not slow to avail myself of 
 his kind offer, and accompanying him to the house, 
 he called "Justin" a bright-looking young fel 
 low, black as Erebus and dressed in clean cordu 
 roy coat and breeches, white shirt and big leather 
 boots, the tops of which came above his knees. 
 Justin emerged from a squad of shady laborers, 
 who were engaged in winnowing rice, and grinning 
 good humoredly, politely asked what was wanted. 
 I was not very well up in French, but knowing be 
 forehand the purport of the conversation, I readily 
 followed the Jolly Cavalier and the dusky Justin in 
 their rapid talk, consisting of three parts of nasal 
 pronunciation and one of shoulder shrugging. One 
 thing, however, puzzled me. The old man w r as 
 
DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA. l8l 
 
 particular to know if Justin could swim. I didn t 
 understand his anxiety at the time. 
 
 I saw the point a few days after, when I learned 
 that the art of swimming had saved old Cavalier a 
 negro. 
 
 Justin took me to the boat-house, where he se 
 lected one of the largest of the pirogues and 
 launched it in the little canal. A pirogue, simple 
 reader, is an invention of the evil one. It is a 
 light, shallow canoe, hollowed out of the trunk of 
 the cottonwood, sycamore, or sweet gum, and ca 
 pable of bearing one or two persons, according to 
 its size always provided that discretion is exer 
 cised. The seats are close to the bottom. You can 
 no more stand up in, or sit on the gunwales of a 
 pirogue without capsizing, than you can climb the 
 steepest curve of a greased rainbow. The pirogue 
 won t stand any nonsense, and is a perfect trap for 
 lubbers. You see a pirogue lying at the bank, and 
 think you will step in and take a ride. You do 
 step in, and the treacherous thing shoots from 
 under you quicker than lightning, and the first 
 thing you know you are turning a back summer 
 sault into the water, while the little thing is riding 
 a half-dozen rods out in the stream. Properly 
 managed however, a pirogue is graceful as a fawn 
 and tractable as the woman who loves you. 
 
 We boarded the pirogue, and Justin shot it swiftly 
 down the little canal and into the bayou, a deep, 
 sluggish stream, varying from fifty to a hundred 
 and fifty feet in width, the water of a dark, inky 
 hue, and full of garr fish, with hundreds of loath- 
 
1 82 DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA. 
 
 some alligators sunning themselves on its banks. 
 Along this little stream flocks of a bird which the 
 Creoles call -poulet cTeau, or water hen, but which 
 I believe to be the coot, were constantly flying, 
 passing recklessly to and fro within easy shot of 
 the pirogue. The poulet d eau is dark blue in 
 color, with a pink beak. They rise with difficulty 
 from the water, their legs and web feet, which are 
 set farther back than those of a duck, paddling the 
 wate r like the buckets of a stern-wheel steamer, 
 for several rods before they get clearly afloat in the 
 air. The flesh of the -poulet d 1 eau is very dark, but 
 sweet and juicy, with a strong gamy flavor like that 
 of the snipe, but less delicate. They are little es 
 teemed among the Creoles, probably on account of 
 their great abundance and the ease with which they 
 are bagged, but I preferred them for the table to 
 anything except the green- winged teal. Along 
 with the multitudes of these silly creatures were 
 occasional flocks of teal, mallards, grey ducks, 
 spoon bills, and a duck the exact counterpart of 
 the famous canvas-back, but lacking the exquisite 
 flavor that bird derives from the wild celery on 
 which it feeds. On either side was a region of in 
 terminable swamp, overgrown with heavy weeds, 
 or tall, coarse grass, and infested with the filthy 
 moccasin snake and other poisonous reptiles. It 
 also abounded in varieties of the rail, some of 
 which were brilliant in plumage. 
 
 Down this bayou Justin swiftly paddled our 
 pirogue. He was an adept in the sport. Stealing 
 swiftly and noiselessly around some point in the 
 
DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA." 183 
 
 bayou, and shooting from behind the inevitable 
 clump of willows, he would bring me right into 
 the midst of a party of mallards, quacking and 
 grubbing in the floating moss, or foraging among 
 the reeds along the bank. It was late in the day 
 when we entered the bayou, but by sun-down I 
 had bagged a dozen or more fat, juicy quacks. 
 
 On several occasions we repeated our visits to 
 the bayou. Justin was always eager to go, and in 
 payment for his services received ammunition, 
 preferring it to money. Once he obtained a fur 
 lough for the entire day, and proposed we should 
 have a grand hunt, agreeing to take me into the 
 lake and around to another bayou less frequented, 
 where game was even more abundant. We got 
 an early start. The air was crisp, with a thick 
 fog hanging over the bayou. During some six 
 winters residence in Louisiana I had never known 
 one so fine as this. The roses and other sweet 
 scented flowers bloomed uninterruptedly. But to 
 resume. 
 
 We pushed along the bayou in the fog, unable 
 to distinguish anything two rods in tront of us. We 
 would constantly hear the ducks rising ahead of 
 us, and by watching until they rose above the belt 
 of fog, could get good shots. Justin had brought 
 his gun along, and joined in the sport. He was 
 positively the most entertaining negro I ever met, 
 and was a lusus naturae in one particular. He 
 would not touch liquor of any kind, alleging that 
 it made him sick. He was not troubled with 
 scruples, for he would sometimes beg my flask for 
 
184 DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA. 
 
 some of his friends whom we occasionally met on 
 the water. He spoke English fluently, with a 
 French accent, and had the drollest way of biting 
 off English words in the middle. 
 
 V We paddled along the bayou, at first shooting 
 everything that came within shot, but finally be 
 coming more fastidious, and only accepting choice 
 ducks. The sun had dispelled the fog, and we 
 came out into the lake, a broad sheet of blue water, 
 covered for half a mile out with myriads of -poulet 
 d eatix and ducks of every variety, while stinking 
 cormorants and lazy herons flew hither and yon. 
 Here Justin showed me one of his tricks to "fool 
 em." Cutting oft two or three reeds close to the 
 water, he selected some fine ducks from those we 
 had killed, and fastened their bills to the cut reeds- 
 so that they would sit easily and naturally in the 
 water. Then running the pirogue into the reeds he 
 masked it effectually, and began an imitation of 
 duck-talk so natural as to deceive the wariest old 
 mallard that ever lived. Troops of mallards began 
 circling around, craning their long necks about in 
 all directions, looking sharply out for traps, while 
 flocks of the foolish poulet cTcaux swam lazily to 
 ward the decoys. Finally a flock of twelve or fif 
 teen swooped down and alighted on the water 
 within a dozen rods of our " Forneys." Others fol 
 lowed, and soon at least thirty fine ducks, closely 
 massed, were swimming toward us. They were 
 already within easy shot, but anxious to study their 
 habits I motioned the impatient Justin to hold his 
 fire. Unsuspiciously they approached until the de- 
 
DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA. 185 
 
 coys were surrounded with ducks and coots. Fi 
 nally an old, weather-beaten mallard, who seemed 
 to be the leader, swam up to the decoys and po 
 litely made his morning salutation. Just about that 
 time old green crest made a discovery. Rapidly 
 backing off, he took a frightened look, and with a 
 startled " qu-a-a-a-a-ck , quack, quack ! " express 
 ive of the most abject terror, he rose from the water. 
 There was a splashing and spluttering, and the 
 whole flock of birds were in the air. Bang, bang, 
 went all of our barrels in quick succession, and 
 there was a rapid decline in feathers. We picked 
 up seventeen ducks and coots, and Justin was 
 highly delighted with the success of his attempt at 
 fooling them. 
 
 We paddled around to the other bayou, where 
 we found game abundant." Large flocks of teal 
 would rise out of the reeds immediately in front of 
 us, or fly right into our faces. We killed until we 
 were satiated with slaughter, and then started to re 
 turn. Paddling lazily along, I heard a flapping in 
 the reeds. Something red gleamed among the fad 
 ing green of the cane leaves, and a large scarlet fla 
 mingo rose lazily above their tops and was making 
 off. If it had been an elephant, or flying dragon, 
 I could not have Ipeen more unsettled. I fired 
 nervously and quickly with my right, and, of 
 course, missed. Taking deliberate aim with the 
 left, resolved this time to make a sure thing of it, I 
 pulled trigger, and for the first time the gun failed. 
 I could have plunged into the oozy bed of the bayou 
 and drowned myself with sheer vexation, when 
 
1 86 DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA. 
 
 the cheerful crack of Justin s gun sounded in my 
 ear, and the flamingo tied himself into a knot and 
 tumbled headlong among the reeds. Justin waded 
 in and brought the beautiful bird to the pirogue. 
 He was as fine a specimen as I ever saw, nearly 
 as large as a sand-hill crane, and with every 
 feather as clean and bright as it was possible to 
 be. I took him home, got some arsenic and at 
 tempted to make a specimen of my prize. I failed, 
 however, through want of skill, and the noble 
 bird spoiled on my hands. 
 
 Returning up the first bayou, I learned the se 
 cret of old Cavalier s anxiety to know whether 
 Justin could swim or not. The appetite for slaugh 
 ter came back as we left the game region, and we 
 began popping over ducks and -poulct cT eaux indis 
 criminately. As I before remarked, a pirogue isn t 
 a good thing to stand up in, but loading the gun 
 while sitting was very awkward business. In 
 many places the bayou was covered with a carpet 
 of thick, rope-like moss, forming in some places a 
 perfect matting, through which it was almost im 
 possible to force the pirogue. By running the 
 prow on to one of these moss banks, it was possible 
 to stand up and load. Justin had often cautioned 
 me against this, but I thought I was something of 
 an expert in pirogue tactics, and scorned his timid 
 fears. I had just shot a large gray duck, and was 
 loading on one of these moss banks. A negro in 
 a pirogue further down the bayou attracted my at 
 tention, and while intently watching him, I felt 
 our vessel careening over. Justin gave a warning 
 
DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA. 187 
 
 shout, and threw his weight on the other side. It 
 was too late, however, and feeling that a catastrophe 
 was inevitable, and preferring to enter the water 
 feet foremost, I jumped out, gun in hand. Re 
 lieved of my superior weight, the treacherous little 
 .shell whopped over on the other side, and turned 
 bottom upward, spilling Justin, our load of game, 
 lunch-basket, and such clothing as we had laid 
 aside on account of the heat, into the water. Still 
 holding to my gun, I sank through the bed of 
 moss and plumbed the bottom, about eight feet. I 
 shot upward again, still holding the gun, and 
 spouted a column of dirty water, like a \vhale. I 
 had no fear of drowning, being a good swimmer, 
 and bearing in mind a proverb about certain per 
 sons destined to a dryer death, but soon found I 
 had not fully comprehended the situation. In 
 struggling to keep my head above w r ater, the in 
 fernal moss wound around my legs, arms and 
 neck, until I was as helpless as a swathed mummy, 
 while every kick or stroke of the arm only fixed 
 me more firmly in the devilish toils. 
 
 I began to be alarmed, and felt myself turning 
 pale. At such times men think rapidly, and in 
 less than ten seconds I had retrospected my entire 
 life the mean things of which I had been guilty 
 being especially prominent in the picture. I 
 thought it was rather rough that I should have 
 escaped the vicissitudes of a soldier s life, to be 
 finally drowned in a stinking bayou, like a blind 
 puppy or superfluous kitten, and I remember that 
 the * absurd story of the French soldier who had 
 
1 88 DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA. 
 
 followed Napoleon through a hundred battles- 
 without a scratch, and was finally kicked to death 
 by a camp mule, presented itself with ludicrous 
 force. I saw the ravenous garr and slimy cat-fish 
 fighting over my bones, and above all I wished I 
 was well out of it. Then I heard Justin s voice, 
 shouting to me to let go the gun and hold on ta 
 the moss. I did so, and soon found that a w^atery 
 grave was not near so imminent as I had feared. 
 By simply keeping still, a very slight motion was 
 sufficient to stay my head above water, and so 
 I remained until the faithful African took the 
 pirogue ashore, righted it, and came to the rescue. 
 Tearing the moss from my neck and arms, he soon 
 extricated me. I felt disposed to make for the 
 shore, as it was impossible to get into the shell 
 while it was in the water. But both guns were 
 overboard, and Justin wanted to recover them. 
 He proposed to dive for them, but remembering 
 that the water was not deep, and reflecting that 
 the muzzle of the gun was heaviest, it occurred to 
 me that they might be found standing perpendicu 
 larly with the wooden breech uppermost. Hold 
 ing to the side of the pirogue, I began exploring 
 with my feet, and soon had the inexpressible satis 
 faction of feeling what I was looking for. Grasp 
 ing the breech with my feet, I raised it until I 
 could reach it with my hands. The other gun I 
 recovered in the same manner. Then, gathering 
 up our game, which amounted to a boat-load, we 
 went ashore, where I drained the water out of my 
 boots, and the whisky out of the flask. The* air 
 
DUCK SHOOTING IN LOUISIANA. 1 89 
 
 was balmy enough, but it was January, neverthe 
 less, and the water chilly. I was soon shivering 
 and chattering like a monkey, despite the heavy 
 draft of "commissary." I got into the pirogue, 
 and taking the extra paddle, we made the little 
 shell fairly dance through the water. Arrived at 
 the boat house, I gave Justin as much of the game 
 as he could carry, and walked briskly to the plant 
 ation, where Ed. furnished me with dry clothing, 
 and sent down a cart for the game. I never took 
 the trouble to count it, but there was enough for 
 the whole plantation. 
 
 This was my last day s duck-shooting in Louis 
 iana. A few day s later I received the joyful ( ?) 
 intelligence that I was exchanged, with an intima 
 tion from the colonel that he would be pleased to 
 see me at headquarters. 
 
SHIFTING SCENES 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 DRAMA OF THE LATE WAR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE Twenty-first Regiment Indiana Volunteers, 
 Col. J. W. McMillan, having completed its organ 
 ization and equipment, left Camp Vajen, Indiana 
 polis, in the latter part of July, 1861, via Dayton, 
 for the East. This regiment was generally con 
 ceded to be among the finest, if not the finest, that 
 had left that State. Col. McMillan, by his untir 
 ing energy and assiduous attention to business in 
 organizing it, won golden opinions from all. Start 
 ing several weeks behind the others, he had the 
 proud satisfaction of being the first of the new reg 
 iments in the field. The regiment was entirely 
 full 101 in each company, with an excellent band 
 1,050 in all. 
 
 At Dayton, at which place we arrived about 
 eleven o clock at night, the citizens had prepared 
 a collation tor the troops, which was very good in 
 
THE LATE WAR. 19! 
 
 its way, only there was not enough of it. The 
 first division fared well, but the second made a 
 very light repast. 
 
 All the way from Columbus, via Steubenville, 
 our journey was a continuous ovation. Throngs of 
 people lined the way at each stopping place, cheer 
 ing and waving handkerchiefs, while fair ladies 
 passed up and down the long trains, distributing 
 refreshments to the grateful troops. Quartermas 
 ter Hinkley, Adjutant Latham, and Captain Roy, 
 were particularly susceptible to the attraction of 
 the bright eyes that flashed glances of welcome 
 and encouragement from the roadside. Capt. 
 Hinkley, who was a handsome man, and rather 
 impressible, was a source of unceasing trouble to 
 the regiment. At every station he was held until 
 the train was in motion, by the attractions of a con 
 versation with some little witch in crinoline and 
 curls, and would have to make a flying leap to the 
 platform. By the time we reached Frazerville, 
 our quartermaster became entirely unmanageable. 
 At Coshocton it was found necessary to chain him. 
 
 While all along the route through Ohio, the citi 
 zens manifested the utmost good feeling, the 
 kind people of Coshocton and Steubenville were 
 worthy of especial mention. At the former place, 
 in addition to the usual refreshments, citizens passed 
 along the line distributing quarters and half dollars 
 to the men. 
 
 When we left Indianapolis, it was the understand 
 ing that our destination was Washington, but on 
 arriving at Baltimore we were ordered into camp 
 
192 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 at Locust Point, a little point of land, nice, clean 
 and grassy, in the rear of Fort McHenry, with the 
 salt water on either side of us 
 
 Our reception on the march through Baltimore 
 was " a little mixed." From many windows small 
 editions of the American flag, and handkerchiefs, 
 were waved ; while from others, and from the door 
 ways of doggeries, the scowling faces of secession 
 ists shot forth black looks of mingled hate and fear. 
 
 In camp the heat was great, but we had a glori 
 ous sea breeze. We also had a few mosquitoes, 
 but they were beneath contempt no more to be 
 compared to the fierce, remorseless insect of the 
 South and West, than was a kitten to a tiger, or a 
 minnow to a whale. They were miserable, feeble, 
 attenuated insects, without power to injure or exas 
 perate, and our boys laughed at their puerile at 
 tempts to draw blood. 
 
 Toward the middle of August our regiment was 
 considerably thinned out, by detaching companies 
 and squads for various duties. The companies of 
 Captains Skelton and McLaflin went to Fort Mc 
 Henry, to take a course of instruction in artillery 
 practice, from Captain Hazard. Captain Roy s 
 company the " crack " one of the regiment, by the 
 by guarded the long bridge over the Patapsco, 
 about a mile and a half from camp. In addition to 
 these, details of seventy men were sent out every 
 day or two, in charge of steamboats loaded wdth 
 stores. The boys who had been to Washington 
 .and back, had wonderful tales to tell of the magni- 
 
^ THE LATE WAR. 193 
 
 tude of the preparations there for the next forward 
 movement. 
 
 An increased activity was perceptible in the work 
 of preparing Fort McHenry for reception of vis 
 itors, after the designs of the rebels with regard to 
 an invasion of Maryland was developed. The fort 
 itself was an open one, without casemates, but was 
 considered impregnable, so far as storming is con 
 cerned ; but there was a handsome spot of ground 
 just over the water, on the east or southeast, from 
 which the place could have been shelled effectively r 
 provided a battery could have been established 
 there, which was hardly probable, unless it could 
 have been done between dark and daylight. The 
 armament of the fort was considered heavy. Tier 
 upon tier of large guns rose above each other on 
 the parapets columbiads, howitzers, carronades, 
 mortars, etc.- while shot, shell, grape and canister 
 lay around loose in convenient piles. There were 
 several furnaces for heating shot. Three of those 
 terrible ten-inch columbiads, and several mortars 
 commanded the city of Baltimore. Fort McHenry, 
 when the war commenced, was in very poor con 
 dition, and would have fallen an easy prey to a 
 vigorous attack, but shortly after that event it was 
 swiftly put in order and the defenses greatly 
 strengthened. But two companies of regulars 
 were quartered there. The Third New York a 
 fine-looking, well-drilled regiment, of two years 
 men was encamped on the beach within the outer 
 wall, and south of the fort. 
 
 Squads of prisoners were brought up every day or 
 13 
 
194 TIIE LATE WAR. 
 
 two, and treated to an indefinite seclusion within 
 the hospitable walls of McHenry. Thomas and 
 Alexander were sent there, two heroes of the St. 
 Nicholas steamer affair the former on that occasion 
 having personated, with great success, the role of 
 the "French Lady." 
 
 Thomas was a small, rather slender fellow, with 
 a fresh, light complexion, and the round oval face 
 and bullet head, which seemed to be the prevailing 
 type among native Baltimoreans of the beau 
 monde. He and his pirate comrade were dressed 
 in neat and jaunty zouave costume, scrupulously 
 clean, and spruce almost to foppishness* They car 
 ried themselves bravely, without swagger or bra 
 vado, and conversed freely with those around them. 
 
 In contrast to the appearance of Thomas and 
 Alexander was that of Captain Wellmore, another 
 noted character in the purlieus of Baltimore. He 
 was arrested, put on parole, and swaggered about 
 the streets in rebel uniform, bloviating to such 
 crowds as he could collect in grogshops. His hair 
 was red, profusely greased or soaped, and curled 
 like a woman s. His general appearance was that 
 of a cross between a spooney and a petty thief. 
 
 The view down the bay was one of quiet beauty. 
 Some six or seven miles off were seen the gray 
 walls of Fort Carroll an unfinished work rising 
 out of the water. The bay was white with the 
 sails of ships bound out and in, coasting vessels 
 and " pungey " boats crept lazily along under the 
 faintest suspicion of a breeze. At evening the band 
 of the New Yorkers over at the fort played the 
 
THE LATE WAR. 195 
 
 " Star-Spangled Banner" in fine style. It was 
 quite a treat to hear the glorious old air, whose 
 every note quickens the blood and awakens respon 
 sive echoes in the American heart played by a 
 good band, within a few hundred yards of the spot 
 on which it was composed. The ship from which 
 Francis Key, himself a prisoner, in heart-sicken 
 ing suspense, witnessed the bombardment of Fort 
 McHenry, and amid the roar of bursting shells, 
 the rocket s red glare, and the screaming shot, 
 composed the "Star-Spangled Banner," was an 
 chored just around the point, about a mile south 
 east of the fort. What a whirling phantasm of 
 changes since then, but the old flag is still seen 
 "by the dawn s early light," and by the purple 
 beams of the setting sun, waving proudly over the 
 bristling ramparts of McHenry. So may it ever 
 wave. 
 
 Not the least part of the philosophy which sus 
 tains the soldier in privation and hardship is the 
 ability to extract material for a laugh out of the 
 petty miseries and annoyances of camp life, and 
 make the most out of such ludicrous scenes as oc 
 casionally transpire. If there is any thing in the 
 adage "laugh and grow fat," the regiment was 
 indebted to a negro dress parade for many a layer 
 of adipose matter over its weather-beaten ribs. 
 Among the herd of followers and hangers-on about 
 the camp, we had an unnumbered squad of colored 
 gentry, the most of them identified with the culin 
 ary department, with a number whose position 
 was not very well defined. These contrabands 
 
196 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 had become enthused with military ardor, and 
 their dress parade, which usually came off between 
 twilight and dark in the rear of the sutler s shanty, 
 was a "big thing" in its way. The negro is an 
 imitative creature, and the way in which our field 
 officers were "taken off" was really laughable. 
 Our colonel, who was a large, portly, fine-looking 
 man, occasionally, under the influence of strong 
 exasperation, broke out in a torrent of impolite 
 words, swearing with a vehemence and fluency 
 that was rather astonishing. Adjutant Latham had 
 a peculiar way of stringing out the word " h-a-l-t " 
 in cutting short a badly executed evolution ; the 
 prolongation was indicative of rage, astonishment 
 and disgust. These and other peculiarities of the 
 field officers were reproduced in the negro dress 
 parade with just a shade of exaggeration. Some 
 of the commands were rich. "Awdah arms!" 
 " Come to an awdah, men." "Report arms!" 
 1 Percure arms ! " " Charge baynets ! " " Put 
 yosefon a charge, sahgent. Why de h 11 don t 
 you come to a charge?" These parades were a 
 little on the sly, and to disperse one it was only 
 necessary to hint that the adjutant was coming that 
 way, when a panic, equal to that of the " teamsters" 
 at Bull s Run, swept away the black cloud. 
 
THE LATE WAR. 197 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE Baltimore secessionists were exceedingly 
 restive under the state of affairs that existed after 
 the Government thrust its meddlesome fingers into 
 the pie of Marshal Kane and his Confederate 
 scoundrels. The pressure of Colonel Dix s rule 
 was just heavy enough to chafe and gall, without 
 being sufficiently stringent to keep them still. If 
 any one doubted the existence of free speech in 
 Baltimore, he should have gone there, put on a 
 Federal uniform, and walked through some of the 
 principal streets, when if he had eyes and ears- 
 he would soon have been convinced that, by many 
 of the good citizens of that goodly city, " freedom 
 of speech" was abused even to the uttermost lim 
 its of licentiousness, and should have been held in 
 check by a liberal administration of Franklin s 
 antidote, "Freedom of cudgel." It required a 
 fair proportion of. German phlegm, considerable 
 "cheek," and a skin as thick as that of a rhinos- 
 eros to enable a Federal soldier, officer or pri 
 vate, to walk the streets of Baltimore, and pass 
 through the ordeal with whole bones and an un 
 ruffled temper. Contemptuous looks, insulting 
 epithets, ribald jests, and vulgar impertinences, 
 were showered upon him in a profusion bordering 
 upon prodigality, while shouts for "Jeff" were 
 frequent and loud. And for those insults there 
 
190 THE I, ATE WAR. 
 
 was no redress, and they could not be resented, as 
 that might bring on a "collision." When a sol 
 dier had occasion to visit the city, if he obeyed 
 the orders of Gen. Dix, he trusted himself un 
 armed to the tender mercies of Baltimore ruf 
 fians themselves armed to the teeth with the most 
 approved implements of throat-cutting and skull- 
 splitting. 
 
 The ladies of Baltimore, like those of Washing 
 ton, devoted heart and soul to the interest of Se- 
 cessia. Protected by their petticoats as well as by 
 the policy of General Dix a policy which bore 
 about it a pungent flavor of the powerful chemical 
 compound known as the hydrate of milk they were 
 even more openly and brazenly insulting than the 
 men. Many of them who, from their appearance, 
 seemed to be the cremc de la creme of the Balti 
 more beau mondc, appeared to be totally lost to all 
 the impulses of womanly modesty, or even com 
 mon decency, which attributes seemed to have 
 given place to a fierce, blind, vindictive hatred, 
 which would have reveled in blood if it had only 
 dared. The sight of a blue uniform had the same 
 effect upon them that scarlet has upon a bull or 
 turkey-cock, and they gathered up their rustling- 
 skirts as if fearful of contamination, cocked their 
 pretty noses in the air, tossed their heads super 
 ciliously, and with a show of inexpressible disdain,, 
 passed on, some dropping expressions, which,, 
 however suitable to the fish-market, did not fall 
 with good grace from the lips of a lady. What 
 was a man to do under such circumstances? W T hip 
 
THE LATE WAR. 1 99 
 
 the first " secesher he met, and been arrested by 
 General Dix s police, or should he have " grinned 
 and borne it?" If the ladies had been ugly it would 
 not have been so bad, but, as the devil would have 
 it, the ladies of Baltimore are handsome, and the 
 best looking seemed to be the most inveterate 
 haters of the government. The secessionists of 
 Maryland were evidently in expectation of some 
 thing turning up shortly to favor their schemes, as 
 they had been daily growing more insufferably in 
 solent in their demeanor. What particular devil 
 try they had on foot at that time, and whether their 
 anticipations were ever realized, we were never 
 fated to learn. 
 
 The arrival of a detachment of prisoners from 
 Western Virginia, on their way to Old Point, from 
 there to be sent to Norfolk, was made the occasion 
 of a sort of ovation by the Baltimore secessionists. 
 The prisoners were quartered at the Gilmor House, 
 where they were visited by large numbers of their 
 friends, who presented them with new clothes and 
 money, and escorted them to the boat, followed by 
 a miscellaneous rabble, which shouted for Jeff 
 Davis, and hooted and groaned at the government. 
 I happened to be in the city at the time, and the 
 scene gave me some faint idea of a Baltimore 
 mob. The prisoners were mostly Georgians, and 
 one of them had lost a leg, and another an arm at 
 the battle of Rich Mountain, I believe. The one 
 who had lost an arm was a fine-looking, handsome 
 fellow, apparently not more than 18 years old, 
 proud-spirited and haughty. He passed near where 
 
2OO THE LATE WAR. 
 
 I was standing, with some others of the Twenty- 
 first, and recognizing the grey uniform, turned and 
 said: "Indiana, I have seen you fellows before." 
 
 I do not wish these denunciations of Baltimore 
 people to be considered as embracing all the popu 
 lation. On the contrary, the Union men were gen 
 erally as courteous, affable and hospitable as any 
 I had ever met. The city, in more than one char 
 acteristic, resembled that of Louisville, in which 
 there are some of the best, as well as some of the 
 meanest people in the world. The Government 
 was not idle in view of the designs of the Confed 
 erates upon Maryland, and the signs of a probable 
 eruption of the secession volcano in Baltimore. 
 Fort McHenry had been put in the best possible 
 condition. Fort Carroll, in which at that period 
 there were no guns, soon received a heavy arma 
 ment. Federal Hill the spot upon which the 
 constitution was ratified where the first Federal 
 flag was unfurled was strongly fortified, and a 
 heavy battery was erected in McKirrTs wood, back 
 of that part of the city called "Limerick." 
 
 The Twenty-first Indiana was then tolerably 
 well drilled, and the boys growled vehemently be 
 cause they were not marched at once into Vir 
 ginia. They said they did not enlist to guard 
 steamboats and bridges, but to fight. The health 
 of the regiment was good. Not a death occurred, 
 (save the occasional demise of a vagrant goose), 
 and we had at no time more than nine in hospital. 
 
 The regiment bore a fine reputation among the 
 people on the Point, for civility, morality, and the 
 
THE LATE WAR. 2OI 
 
 observance of the principles of meum and teum, as 
 compared with our predecessors in that locality, 
 the Pennsylvania regiment, of Colonel Miles. Mr. 
 Brakeman, our chaplain, endeared himself to us 
 by his genial manner and kindly care for the tem 
 poral as well as the spiritual wants of all. He was 
 a minister of the old-fashioned Methodist persua 
 sion, and preached sound, practical sermons, with 
 out any bias of sectarianism, every Sunday morn 
 ing, with semi-weekly rations of prayer-meeting. 
 Captain Rose was also a Methodist preacher, and 
 had an effective hand in keeping up the interest of 
 the meetings. Quite a number of the regiment 
 were professing Christians. I do not think there 
 was a man of any intelligence in the regiment, 
 however wicked he might have been himself, but 
 said God-speed to the efforts of Chaplain Brake 
 man. 
 
 One Sunday, as the sergeant major, O. P. 
 Hervey, formerly editor of a Noble county paper, 
 was returning from a visit to Captain Roy s en 
 campment, he was greeted with a faint and tremu 
 lous shout for Jeff Davis. The major, although 
 unarmed, captured the rebel, and, under threats of 
 taking him to the fort, made him swear to support 
 the Constitution of the United States and of In 
 diana. 
 
 We had been at Camp Dix a full month before 
 we could command suitable hospital accommo 
 dations. And it was only after two good and 
 brave men (Thomas Benham and J. W. Dyke), 
 who had left the comforts, the peace and plenty of 
 
2O2 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 
 
 home, for hardships and privations in defense of 
 their country s flag, had been sacrificed, that the 
 necessary arrangements could be effected with the 
 circumlocution office. We at last secured rooms 
 in the St. Charles Hotel a large, unoccupied 
 building on Locust Point, near the Broadway 
 ferry-landing, where other lives were probably 
 saved, though it was too late for Dyke and Ben- 
 ham. 
 
 The famous cigar-ship, built by Ross Winans, 
 laid over the way, about a mile from camp. In 
 company with a number of our officers, I had the 
 pleasure of going all over and through it. It was 
 built entirely of iron, the plates about an inch in 
 thickness, and was, in fact, a hollow iron tube, 
 three hundred feet in length, sixteen in its greatest 
 diameter, and pointed very sharp at both ends. It 
 was built in two sections, with a wheel, twenty-six 
 feet in diameter, revolving entirely around the hull 
 at the junction of the two sections, which was a 
 little forward of the center. The wheel worked 
 upon the screw principle, and somewhat resembled 
 that of a wind-mill. The vessel had two rudders, 
 forward and aft, something like a spade in shape, 
 only more so. The appearance of the boat inside 
 was by no means inviting. It was dirty and hot, 
 and going into it was a good deal like crawling into 
 a hollow log. The gentleman who had charge of 
 the nondescript, informed us that it could be turned 
 completely around in a length and a half, and pro 
 pelled at the rate of twenty miles an hour. It 
 might be capable of mischief in running down ves- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 2OJ, 
 
 sels, but could carry no guns of any consequence. 
 I understood that Mr. Winans had a model for an 
 other steamer of the same kind, eight hundred feet 
 long, with which he proposed to cross the Atlantic 
 in five days. 
 
 I made a visit to Captain Roy s camp, at the 
 Long Bridge over the Patapsco. Captain R., with 
 half of his company, was stationed at the Long 
 Bridge, and the remainder at the Switzer bridge, 
 three miles above. These two bridges had been 
 for a long time used as thoroughfares for the con 
 veyance of arms and ammunition from Baltimore 
 to the secessionists of Anne Arundel county, but 
 the game was blocked so far as they were con 
 cerned, as Captain Roy s men took special pains 
 to see that nothing contraband went that way. For 
 the purpose of conveyance, I mounted a famous 
 grey horse belonging to the regiment a clever 
 cross between a camelopard and a rhinoceros 
 and, sometimes trotting with our fore-feet and gal 
 loping with those in the rear, and then again en 
 joying the luxury of a graceful, undulating, side- 
 wise shamble, we got over the two intervening 
 miles with no broken bones, but not without terri 
 ble abrasions of the part in contact with the saddle. 
 Captain Roy s tents were pitched on a beautiful 
 narrow strip of ground ornamented with shade 
 trees. On one side was the sheet of water, into 
 which the Patapsco emptied, and on the other a 
 lovely lake, almost circular in form, called Spring 
 Garden Neck. 
 
 The Patapsco at Switzer Bridge degenerates- 
 
204 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 into an insignificant creek, and I considered my 
 self miserably swindled in having been led to 
 think it a river, by reason of its spread at the 
 mouth. On each side, the streamlet was lined 
 with beautiful, well-cultivated farms, with hand 
 some dwellings, tall corn, worthy of an Indiana 
 prairie, and immense peach orchards, loaded with 
 large, luscious fruit. The most of the people were 
 theoretical secessionists, but not at all vicious. 
 They readily confessed they were secessionists in 
 principle, but at the same time were social and 
 hospitable, perfectly satisfied to keep out of the 
 fight, and follow their avocations in peace. 
 
 There were probably some six or eight thousand 
 troops in and around Baltimore. They came and 
 went so fast that it was impossible to make a 
 closer estimate. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BUT little ever occurs to relieve the daily routine 
 of life in camp, the monotony of which, notwith 
 standing the fact of being well housed and fed, 
 soon became intolerable. Our food was of ex 
 cellent quality, and abundant in quantity, but 
 there was not a man in the regiment, from col 
 onel down to the last private, who would not 
 rather have slept on the grass and fed on sheet- 
 iron crackers, if he could have exchanged the 
 monotonous drudgery of Locust Point for active 
 
THE LATE WAR. 205 
 
 service, where there was a chance of burning 
 " villainous saltpetre " in sport more exciting than 
 popping blank cartridges in the air, or firing at a 
 barrel in the water. Trudging up and down in 
 front of rickety wooden bridges, and inspecting 
 market wagons, or sweltering between the greasy 
 and by no means fragrant decks of a bay steamer, 
 keeping w r atch and ward over bales and hogs 
 heads and barrels, might have been serving one s 
 country in some sense, but it did not meet the pre 
 conceived notions of war entertained by our rough 
 and ready Hoosier boys, who, naturally restive, 
 under a stringency of discipline for which they 
 were but illy prepared by previous unrestrained 
 indulgence in the pleasant fiction that this was a 
 "free country," grumbled and growled and swore 
 profusely. In a word, it was not remunerative. In 
 
 short it did not pay. Even s regiment, 
 
 which, without intending the least disparagement, 
 was not quite up to the mark of the Twenty-first, 
 had the luck to escape Locust Point, and was fa 
 vored with a fleeting and transitory glimpse of the 
 elephant. But we consoled ourselves with dismal 
 lockings-forward to the good time coming, and the 
 hope that when there was real fighting to do, the 
 Twenty-first would not be overlooked when the 
 tickets of invitation were issued. 
 
 At this time Baltimore was in a state of ferment 
 under the new and somewhat vigorous exertions 
 of Governor Dix to throttle the seditious spirit in 
 that rebellious city. The number of arrests made 
 some of them reaching persons of high stand- 
 
2O6 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 ing in public and private life and the boldness 
 and promptness of the measures taken, rendered 
 the rebels qualmish, and a long and loud whine 
 went up from the persecuted innocents because of 
 the enormity of suppressing secession badges, 
 cheering Jeff Davis, and kindred harmless mani 
 festations of opinion. They who roared louder 
 than all the bulls of Bashan, and vapored like 
 turkey-cocks, soon cooed as gently as a sucking 
 dove. Rebeldom was vociferous for peace. Red- 
 handed, and with the steam of the murders of the 
 1 9th of April rising from their smoking garments, 
 they prated of "peace." But they were not iso 
 lated in their efforts to restore peace. Through 
 out the broad prairies of the West, and amid the 
 rocky hills of staid old New England, the piping 
 cry of peace, and the sophistry and cant accom 
 panying it was the same that arose from the peace- 
 enamored scoundrels of blood-stained Baltimore. 
 The similarity between the peace talk of Vallan- 
 digham, and others of that ilk, and the secession 
 ists of Maryland, was peculiarly suggestive. 
 
 A portion of the Maine regiment that was moved 
 down to Potter s Hill, just north of us, across the 
 right arm of the Patapsco neck, threw up exten 
 sive earth-works there, forming a portion of the 
 very complete fortifications that surrounded Balti 
 more, and made it appear so threatening to J. 
 Davis and Co., when they looked longingly to 
 wards that fair city of down-trodden Maryland. 
 
 Heavy firing was heard for several days some 
 where to the southward, and we were annoyed 
 
THE LATE WAR. 2OJ 
 
 with all sorts of vexatious rumors of impossible en 
 gagements at Munson s Hill and other points, san 
 guinary beyond all precedent in character, and in 
 volving mortality lists of enormous length ; but our 
 boys from being remarkably credulous had passed 
 through the various stages of skepticism until they 
 had gone into a chronic state of hopeless unbelief 
 in everything which did not transpire beneath their 
 own immediate observation. 
 
 In conformity with General McClellan s orders, 
 our troops shed the greasy, dingy, shabby suit of 
 Indiana grey, and donned the regulation blue. It 
 was a parting that entailed no regret, for we were 
 heartly disgusted with, and ashamed of, it. It was 
 always being washed and always dirty and greasy. 
 
 General Dix, anxious to know the facts in the 
 case of the terrible affray at Port Deposit, sent 
 Major Hayes down there to investigate the matter, 
 and I accompanied him. 
 
 We left Baltimore at half past eight in the morn 
 ing, and arrived in Havre, twenty-eight miles dis 
 tant, about half past ten. The road passed through 
 a poor agricultural country, much resembling, were 
 it not for the visible admixture of pine, cedar and 
 chestnut, with the scrub oaks, the "barren" re 
 gions of Indiana and South Illinois. 
 
 Havre de Grace is a quaint old town situated at 
 the mouth of the Susquehanna, forcibly reminding 
 one of the sleepy Dutch burgs so felicitously de 
 scribed by Washington Irving. Its slumberous 
 appearance was somewhat relieved by the fact of 
 
2C>8 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 a part of the Fourth Regiment, New York Volun 
 teers, being stationed there. 
 
 Going down to the water to take the boat for 
 Port Deposit, we passed a member of the Fourth 
 New York (Scott Life Guards), afflicted with a 
 chronic mania for desertion, in an uncomfortable 
 position. He was lying with his face in the sand, 
 his arms thrown around a pillar supporting the 
 bridge, and heavily manacled. He was enjoying 
 a profound slumber, embellished with prolonged 
 and sonorous snores. 
 
 The Fairy, a little side-wheel steamer, pointed 
 sharp at both ends, was waiting for us. First a 
 detatchment of the guard went aboard, then the 
 prisoners filed in, then followed the rest of the 
 guard, officers of the Scott Life Guards, Mr. 
 Meade Addison, U. S. District Attorney, Major 
 Hayes and myself, with a sprinkling of civilians 
 bringing up the rear. All aboard, and comfortably 
 smoking under an awning on the upper deck, a 
 bell, large enough for the Great Eastern, rang 
 furiously, and the Fairy steamed away for Port 
 Deposit, five miles above, on the Susquehanna. 
 
 Port Deposit was an old town then, consisting of 
 one long and crooked street built in the narrow 
 space between the river and the bluff. Many of the 
 houses were, large, heavy stone buildings, strong 
 enough for forts, and built of a beautiful, hard, 
 grey granite, with which the quarries in the 
 neighboring bluffs abounded. Others were built 
 of wood, and plastered on the outside in a quaint, 
 old-fashioned style. There was a good deal of 
 
THE LATE WAR. 209 
 
 wealth, and the town formerly did a heavy business 
 In grain, stone, lime, lumber and liquor. It was 
 then the head of navigation on the Susquehanna, 
 and a great forwarding point, but some public 
 work the building of a road or the cutting of a 
 canal, I don t remember which nipped the shoot 
 of its rising greatness ; since which time it has with 
 difficulty " held its own." The citizens were about 
 equally divided between "Union" and "Peace" 
 (Anglice "Secesh"), and each party was equally 
 enthusiastic. A fine company of Home Guards 
 was armed with rifled muskets, and prepared at 
 any moment to use them. 
 
 From a laborious examination before the jury of 
 inquest, the following particulars were gleaned of 
 the collision: A "peace meeting" was being held 
 in the barber shop of a hotel, a number of soldiers 
 of the Scott Life Guard were in Port Deposit, and 
 some eight or ten of them went into the bar-room 
 a secession house and drank at the bar. Learn 
 ing that a peace meeting was being held in the 
 barber shop, the door of which was open, two of 
 them entered, and one of them waved a small flag 
 over the table where the votes were being counted, 
 denounced the meeting as a secession one, and 
 declared his intention of breaking it up. There 
 were about fifty persons in the room, and they rose, 
 roughly expelled the soldiers, and followed them 
 into the bar-room, where a bloody and general fight 
 ensued, in which fists, clubs, chairs, spittoons and 
 knives were freely used. After a time the fight 
 ing was adjourned to the street, where the sol- 
 14 
 
2IO THE LATE WAR. 
 
 diers were chased with stones about fifty yards, when 
 they rallied, and in turn chased their pursuers. Two 
 men were killed instantly in the bar-room. They 
 were both stabbed in the neck. Two citizens 
 were also stabbed, one in the face and arm, the 
 other in the neck. Two or three soldiers were 
 stabbed, but not fatally, and others severely beaten, 
 one having the temporal bone on the left side of 
 the face broken from a blow with a spittoon. The 
 scene in the bar-room was described as being hor 
 rible in the extreme. The floor was literally 
 drenched in blood. Men lying dead, and soldiers 
 scattered around, knocked senseless from blows. 
 The evidence on the part of secession witnesses 
 was so conflicting as to destroy its credibility. 
 Nothing was elicited to show that the soldiers 
 made a preconcerted attack on the meeting, or that 
 there was a knife among them. The presumption 
 was that, after being beaten with chairs and blud 
 geons, and some of them stabbed, one of them 
 wrenched a knife from a citizen s hand and used it 
 with deadly effect. The two men killed were both 
 violent secessionists, one of them an estimable 
 man, but hasty in temper and frantic on the seces 
 sion question. The other was a man of violent 
 habits, and had been frequently engaged in stab 
 bing affrays. A witness of undoubted veracity, 
 who viewed the fight through a broken pane in a 
 window, and who gave his evidence in a clear and 
 circumstantial manner, testified that he saw the lat 
 ter with a soldier s head jammed down over the 
 counter and repeatedly striking him with a club. 
 
THE LATE WAR. 211 
 
 All the witnesses testified to the quiet and gentle 
 manly deportment of the soldiers up to the time of 
 their interruption of the meeting. The jury re 
 turned a verdict which did not implicate the sol 
 diers any more than the citizens. 
 
 At Perryville, opposite Havre de Grace, a great 
 mule and wagon depot had been established. 
 The American flag at that point waved in triumph 
 over six thousand mules and three thousand wa 
 gons, with fresh arrivals every day. A thick, 
 heavy cloud of dust hovered over the region 
 round about, and the air was resonant with multi 
 tudinous brays, intermingled with the hoarse cries 
 of the mule-breaker. 
 
 Returning down from Port Deposit by the river 
 road, we came upon a vast corral of United States 
 wagons, inclosing a space of five or six acres. In 
 side the inclosure a perfect forest of long ears, and 
 a compact mass of black hides were working and 
 surging to and fro. There were quite a number 
 of these pens near Perryville, each containing fif 
 teen hundred or two thousand mules, collected 
 from all parts of the country, and stored in those 
 pens to await the process of breaking. 
 
 Some distance from the pen we found the break 
 ing-ground, where about a hundred lusty darkies 
 were engaged in the work of taking the mules 
 through a rudimentary course of instruction pre 
 paratory to fitting them for duty in harness. The 
 process of breaking was exciting and interesting, 
 and not unattended with danger. The mule was 
 driven into a "chute " just the width of his body, 
 
212 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 with strong wooden bars on each side, which pre 
 vented his kicking out laterally, and at the same 
 time admitted of his being handled through the 
 y cracks. A rope was then fastened to his jaw, and 
 another tied as a girth around his barrel ; after 
 which one was attached to his fore-feet and passed 
 under the girth and out at the rear, in which condi 
 tion he was turned out for the preliminary exer 
 cises, consisting of a series of frantic plunges, with 
 some ludicrous ground and lofty tumbling and 
 vicious attempts to bite and strike with his fore 
 feet. This exercise continued for a longer or 
 shorter period of time, according to the intelli 
 gence and obstinacy of the subject. But your 
 mule is not altogether such a fool as he looks, and 
 after coming to grief a matter of a dozen times by 
 means of the check rope, he wisely concluded that 
 plunging and rearing was not remunerative, and 
 lay still, either reflecting or groaning piteously. 
 If unusually obstinate through the first lesson, he 
 was trotted around the course at a double quick 
 and his hide copiously anointed with a stout cudgel. 
 
 After the first course, the mule being supposed 
 to have absorbed something of the rudiments of 
 his education, was reconducted to the "chute," 
 where he was invested with harness and again led 
 forth, and another series of gymnastic exercises 
 took place. 
 
 After becoming somewhat accustomed to the 
 harness, they were hitched up to the large wagons 
 and driven around the course. The operation of 
 hitching up was a delicate one, requiring great 
 
THE LATE WAR. 213 
 
 care. The negro approached cautiously and gin 
 gerly, with his eye fixed on the mule s ears. If a 
 suspicious movement of the auricular appendages 
 was seen, the startled African sprang backward 
 quick as lightning, just in time to escape a flash 
 ing pair of heels. Again he approached, and 
 finally succeeded in hitching up. A brace of 
 broken mules were usually put in the rear, with a 
 team of wild ones in front. 
 
 When the mule is shod, a broad leather belt is 
 passed around his body and he is hoisted clear, 
 then his feet are drawn back and fastened, when 
 he helplessly submits to the operation of shoeing, 
 emitting sundry protests in the way of snorts and 
 groans. 
 
 When curried, it is an operation which hardly 
 pays for the danger incurred. The mule is alto 
 gether too handy with his heels to render it desira 
 ble employment. Sometimes a curry comb is fas 
 tened to an eight-foot pole, when the groom stands 
 out of range and rakes him down from "long 
 taw." 
 
 Negroes were exclusively employed in the break 
 ing and training of mules at Perry ville. I asked 
 one of the men superintending the matter why this, 
 was so. "Well," said he, "a negro is the next 
 thing to a mule, anyhow. They understand each 
 other better, and there is a natural affinity of char 
 acter between them. The negroes like it, and d d 
 if I don t believe the mules like it too. At any 
 rate, a negro can break a mule twice as quickly as 
 a white man, and can get more out of him after 
 
214 THE LAT E WAR. 
 
 he is broken. We tried white men, but it wouldn t 
 do. The mules have no confidence in them." 
 
 A great many people wondered why General 
 McClellan did not make a forward movement. If 
 they had gone to Perryville and seen the vast pens 
 of mule flesh, the wagons, the stores of forage, 
 forges, harness and equipments, they would have 
 known what he was waiting for. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 WE moved our camp from Locust Point up to 
 the neighborhood of Druid Hill Park, a beautiful 
 location, with a fine shade of oak and sweet gum 
 trees, high and rolling, and excellent spring water. 
 Our camp was now called Camp Murray. We 
 anticipated a great deal of benefit, in the sanitary 
 way, from the change. Notwithstanding the opin 
 ion of some, I do not believe that dirt is the cause 
 of the greater part of camp sickness. At Locust 
 Point, our boys were regularly driven to the water 
 and washed, like sheep, and yet intermittent, 
 typhoid, and vile, low-grade fevers, for which 
 there is no name, but resembling the Southern 
 " dengue" or "break-bone," prevailed. 
 
 September 26th, 1861, was pretty generally ob 
 served by the citizens of Baltimore as a day of 
 fasting, humiliation and prayer the Baltimoreans 
 fasted on oysters and cocktails, preyed promiscu- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 2 15 
 
 ously upon each other, and "humiliated" them 
 selves by pious pilgrimages behind 2 140 horses to 
 Druid Hill Park, or sailed leisurely down the Bay, 
 and drew miniature leviathans from the "vasty 
 deep" with a hook. Business houses, Union and 
 Secession, were alike closed, and the city had a 
 sort of holiday appearance. The churches were 
 crowded, and the Throne of Grace besieged, with 
 petitions and counter petitions, from different mem 
 bers of the same church, praying to the same God, 
 that events widely apart might come to pass. 
 
 Throngs of citizens visited the various military 
 encampments about the city ; our own (which at 
 Locust Point was rarely brightened with visitors of 
 the female persuasion, apple women and negroes 
 excepted,) came in for a full share. The Mary 
 land regiment, at Camp Carroll, and the Sixth 
 Michigan, in camp at Prospect Hill, on the York 
 road, had flag presentations, at which the usual 
 ceremonies were observed and the usual patriotic 
 speeches, abounding in valorous war-talk, couched 
 in prettily-worded, smoothly-turned sentences, were 
 made. This was a thing we were heartily tired of. 
 We had seen enough of the flummery of war, and 
 now wanted the reality. Speeches were well 
 enough to amuse women, children and "sweet 
 young men" whose business interests were such 
 that they could not leave home, but we wanted to 
 hear the cannqn s roar. 
 
 Our boys were highly pleased with their new 
 camp and we indignant that they should have been 
 kept so long at Locust Point, when this beautiful 
 
2l6 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 spot was unoccupied. We had been so long on the 
 barren sand of Camp Dix that the very sight of a 
 tree was exhilarating. The site of our camp was 
 covered with fine old oaks and sweet gums. One 
 venerable fellow, which had probably outlived more 
 tempests than there were acorns on its branches, 
 struck its gnarled roots into the earth just in front 
 of our tent, and spread its protecting arms in a 
 patronizing way over us. A swarm of insects of 
 the cicada tribe rendezvoused in its branches ; the 
 cheerful music of their prattling gossip proclaimed 
 some naughty things which Katy-did. 
 
 We formed a much better opinion of the socia 
 bility of Baltimore people after we came to Camp 
 Murray. Throngs of them came to see our dress 
 parades, on foot and in carriages, and handsomely 
 dressed lady equestrians, who rode and looked 
 charmingly, favored us with their presence. Our 
 colonel was the recipient of so many testimonials 
 of good will from the female portion of our vis 
 itors, in the shape of tastefully arranged bouquets, 
 that there was danger of his becoming a little vain. 
 
 Our camp was named after the gentleman who 
 owned the ground, to whom we were indebted for 
 many favors. 
 
 Every day rumors of terrible fighting along the 
 Potomac reached the city, and finally floated out 
 to camp, magnified and distorted in all possible 
 shapes of absurdity, but they failed to excite at 
 tention. The fact was, we had made up our 
 minds to go into winter quarters in Baltimore, and 
 had turned our attention to base-ball the enjoy- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 2 17 
 
 ments of the creature comforts, and the cultivation 
 of female society, neither knowing nor caring 
 whether Beauregard was to winter in Philadelphia, 
 or McClellan in Richmond. We had waited and 
 watched and prayed for active service through the 
 various stages of sanguine hope to despair, which 
 was finally ended in indifference, until we were 
 prepared to fall in with any fly-blown policy the 
 government might choose to pursue. If we must 
 go into winter quarters in the North, I did not 
 know any better place than Baltimore, where we 
 were well fed and comfortably housed. The col 
 onel, however, was resolved to make one last effort 
 to get in the field before the winter set in. 
 
 Our regiment had cast its greasy shell of In 
 diana grey and bloomed in regulation blue. The 
 change for the better in the appearance of the men 
 was almost incredible. They looked like different 
 men altogether, and compared favorably in per 
 sonal appearance and proficiency with anybody s 
 regiment. Indeed, I think I might hazard the as 
 sertion that we had the best drilled, best equipped, 
 best fed and best looking regiment that had yet 
 left the State. We had exchanged the old mus 
 kets received at Indianapolis for German rifles chef 
 d" auvres of Dutch ingenuity in the way of clumsi 
 ness of exterior, but of exquisite finish of the interior, 
 and good range. The two flank companies kept 
 their Enfield rifles, which after all were the deadliest 
 weapons in the hands of men who knew how to use 
 them. The nipping cold of the nights was a dis 
 agreeable hint of the near approach of winter. 
 
2l8 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 The woods were glorious with the gorgeous hues 
 of the dying autumn the green and golden of the 
 maple, the crimson of the gum and sumach, and the 
 .sombre brown of the oak. The dropping nuts, the 
 leaden sky, the wailing breeze crooning a requiem 
 among the branches of the oaks for the departed 
 glories of the summer, all reminded us that the 
 "melancholy days had come," and engendered 
 lugubrious cogitations on the budding hope and 
 blasted fruits of man s ambition. 
 
 Almost a year had elapsed since this rebellion, so 
 long brewing, had broken out with the secession of 
 South Carolina. Armies, vaster in proportion and 
 more terrible in equipment than any the world had 
 seen since the days of the great Napoleon, had 
 sprung full-armed into existence, while a mighty 
 government convulsed the world- with its struggles 
 to maintain itself, and the tread of armed men re 
 sounded from Maine to California. How well did 
 we remember the jests and sneers of the arrogant 
 and self-sufficient North at the rebellion when it 
 first broke out. We roared and shook our sides 
 with merriment, and fired broadsides of epigrams 
 at the rebels while they worked, drilled, stole guns 
 ,and built batteries. The joke was too good we 
 must humor it. Then Sumter fell, and the North 
 exploded in an unaccountable rage. That which 
 was known must finally take place that which had 
 been calmly and quietly contemplated for months 
 .set the entire North in a blaze. Then all the talk 
 was for "crushing out" the rebellion for sweep 
 ing the last vestige of treason from the land, and 
 
THE LATE WAR. 219 
 
 hanging the arch-traitors ; but gradually and surely 
 the ugly fact dawned upon us that treason was not 
 to be crushed out with words ; that the misguided 
 traitors were terribly in earnest, and had avoided 
 the error which had so nearly proved fatal to us 
 of under-rating the magnitude of the task before 
 them. Bull Run was a gentle reminder that un 
 disciplined masses, however brave, could not march 
 uninterruptedly "on to Richmond ; " that self-con 
 fidence was not a match for superior generalship, 
 nor a substitute for discipline ; that to despise an 
 enemy was not to conquer him. But still we found 
 a general disposition among the people at large of 
 the North to under-rate the strength and energy 
 of the rebels. People whose "business" would 
 not permit them to enlist, continued to talk in a 
 loose, rambling way of "crushing out" the rebel 
 lion, while the God s truth was that from the first 
 the rebellion had steadily and persistently gained 
 ground and was more formidable than it ever had 
 been. 
 
 I had not the slightest doubt of the ultimate 
 triumph of the Government, but that triumph must 
 be the result of earnest work and hard fighting, 
 and not the frothing talk of fools and bigots. I 
 know the temper of these Southerners too well to 
 flatter myself, that even the defeat and utter de 
 struction of their army in Virginia, would end the 
 war. Rumor had it that we were to leave here 
 immediately. As for myself, I was prepared to 
 hybernate for the winter. Our household con- 
 
22O THE LATE WAR. 
 
 sisted of myself and comrade, a bench-leg dog r 
 and a cat of great blackness. 
 
 The health of the regiment was good ; most all 
 the cases in the hospital when we left Locust 
 Point, had got out, and no new ones had been sent 
 from Druid Hill. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WE again removed our camp, and were located 
 just outside of the fortifications on Murray Hill, 
 Snake Hill, or Potter s Hill, as the place was vari- 
 iously designated, on the ground just vacated by 
 the Tenth Maine, which left for the Potomac the 
 day we came down. Murray Hill was in the im 
 mediate vicinity of Canton. Canton was a bad- 
 smelling suburb of Baltimore, consisting principally 
 of ragged cuts and holes in the ground, fringed 
 around the edges with dingy houses, sheltering a. 
 mingled population of Dutch, Irish and negroes, 
 the most of them identified with beer and laundry 
 interests. Flocks of straggling geese and herds 
 of savory goats lent to the place a pastoral appear 
 ance, and mangy, ill-looking, half-starved curs 
 sniffed suspiciously at the heels of the pedestrian. 
 
 Discharges had been made out and forwarded to- 
 the war department for fifty or sixty of our men. 
 A great many of those were cases which a rigid 
 inspection at the time of enlistment would have 
 rejected. The necessity for a closer inspection of 
 
THE LATE WAR. 221 
 
 recruits should have been impressed upon colonels 
 who were raising new regiments. The enlistment 
 of weak lungs and rheumatic temperaments was a 
 dead loss, and, in some sense, a fraud upon the 
 government ; besides, a good deal of trouble in 
 .filling up might have been avoided by selecting 
 good men in the start. We were not likely to 
 have any trouble in keeping the regiment full, as 
 new recruits came on from Indiana almost as fast 
 as there were vacancies. 
 
 The work on the fort was pushed on with vigor. 
 The earth-works were completed in a few days, 
 and the guns mounted. The armament consisted 
 of thirty-eight guns, some of them of the heaviest 
 calibre. The position was a beautiful one, com 
 manding the city, the harbor, and Fort McHenry. 
 The elevation was much above that of Fort Mc 
 Henry, and greater than that of Federal Hill. 
 With these three powerful fortifications, Baltimore 
 was made rather hot to serve as winter quarters 
 for Beauregard s army. 
 
 The general impression was that as soon as the 
 works on Murray Hill were completed, we would 
 go into winter quarters inside the walls. There 
 had been loud and continued growling from the 
 men at the policy of keeping us here, while regi 
 ment after regiment of raw recruits, in a very em- 
 bryotic condition as regarded drill, and almost 
 guiltless of discipline, were forwarded to the thea 
 ter of war ; and the colonel, who, having got his 
 regiment into excellent fighting condition, was 
 anxious to give it an airing in the field, fumed and 
 
222 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 fretted as much as any of them. It was very grat 
 ifying to be in high favor at headquarters, and we 
 were very much obliged to Gen. Dix for his excel 
 lent opinion of us, but we could dispense with a 
 portion of it, for the consideration of being taken 
 into service. 
 
 The weary monotony of camp life was right 
 sharply relieved by a variety of "moving inci 
 dents, by flood and field" mostly flood. For 
 twenty-four hours the wind blew a terrible gale, 
 and the rain fell in torrents, spiced with occasional 
 "spurts" of sleet and hail. Flies were carried 
 away, guy-ropes snapped, and in some instances, 
 tents were lifted bodily from the ground, and the 
 shivering inmates exposed to a "pitiless pelt 
 ing." Our camp was left in an interesting condi 
 tion. A hundred little torrents, thick with red earth 
 washed from the walls of the fort, poured through 
 the streets and into the tents, forming little ponds 
 in all the basins and drowning out the camp-fires. 
 The earth was tramped into a thin, slushy mortar, 
 in which geese paddled and squawked around, and 
 the only two pigs I had seen since leaving Ohio, 
 were rooting. 
 
 The soldiers took advantage of a transitory 
 gleam of sunshine, and blankets, clothing, and 
 other fixings were hung out in every available spot. 
 The boys came out strong under their trials, and 
 were jolly as even Mark Tapley could have wished 
 under the only real hardships to which they had 
 been exposed, showing that however much they 
 might growl and grumble at trifles, when anything 
 
THE LATE WAR. 
 
 was to be endured, the responsibility of which 
 could not be consistently saddled upon the quar 
 termaster, or their company officers, they had in 
 them the stuff to make soldiers. Men who would 
 growl terribly at the slightest symptom of acidity 
 in bread, or the faintest suspicion of rustiness in 
 bacon, whom nothing less than "iced water and 
 milk" in summer, and hot rolls and butter in 
 winter, would have contented wet, cold, and 
 hungry, sang songs in the mud, and greeted each 
 fresh mishap with roars of laughter. Not a few 
 ludicrous scenes might be recorded of the progress 
 of the gale. About four o clock one Saturday 
 morning the gallant captain of company A might 
 have been seen bracing his brawny shoulders res 
 olutely against his tent poles, with a brief shirt-tail 
 flapping furiously in the breeze, and yelling lustily 
 for a somnolent Ethiope to come to the rescue.. 
 The captain was in a quandary, the cold rain was 
 beating in upon him, and if he let go of the pole, 
 his tent would be carried off bodily ; if he held on 
 to it, he could not get to kill the negro. The cap 
 tain was the prey for some moments of conflicting 
 passions solicitude for his quarters, and rage at 
 the profound slumber of his contraband but was 
 finally relieved, and escaped with an involuntary 
 shower-bath. 
 
 The greatest solicitude was felt for the safety of 
 the great fleet. It was known that many of the 
 vessels were not sea-worthy, and, heavily laden 
 as they were, if the gale was as severe on the 
 coast as it was with us, it was scarcely possible 
 
224 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 they could have escaped without serious disaster. 
 Troops continued to pass through almost daily, it 
 was said, to Annapolis. The number in and about 
 Baltimore continued at about the same figures, in 
 the neighborhood of 10,000. The Fourth Michi 
 gan Regiment remained at McKim s Wood, the 
 Tenth Maine at Patterson s Park, and the Duryea 
 Zouaves at Federal Hill. The Zoo-Zoos were 
 brilliant with new red breeches of increased capac 
 ity in the rear, and had lost none of their accus 
 tomed sauciness of swagger. 
 
 The harbor was crowded with vessels which 
 should be plying between Baltimore and Washing 
 ton. I was becoming more and more enamored 
 of the distinguished foresight and vigor with which 
 the war was prosecuted. We were scientific in 
 tensely so. We had balloons, and all the latest 
 improvements in rifled arms companies of sharp 
 shooters, carrying forty pound telescopic rifles, 
 with which a man might be " corpsed " at a greater 
 distance than he could be distinguished with the 
 naked eye rocket batteries and Sawyer guns, to 
 amuse scientific generals with interesting sport 
 " at the Rip-Raps," while the Potomac was block 
 aded, and the food for our grand army was trans 
 ported in wagons. That was a good joke on 
 .science. 
 
THE LATE WAR. 225 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 EARLY in November a portion of the Twenty- 
 first succeeded in getting away from Baltimore, 
 and into a region where there was at least a pros 
 pect of a fight. For several days it had been 
 noised around the camp that an expedition of 
 some sort was on foot, and on the morning of the 
 1 2th we marched from our encampment, five hun 
 dred strong, down to one of the Canton wharves, 
 to await the movements of the steamer which was 
 to carry us off. About half-past 4 P. M., the Star 
 came along, and we went aboard. Presently the 
 Pocahontas came up with five hundred Zouaves on 
 board, from Federal Hill, and in company we 
 steamed off for the Bay, the Pocahontas in the 
 lead. On board the Star we passed a very uncom 
 fortable night. The boat was very much crowded, 
 and without accommodations of any kind for offi 
 cer or private. It was really distressing to see the 
 frantic efforts of the poor fellows, who were tired 
 out with the preparations for the march, to get a 
 little sleep. Some of them coiled up in the most 
 ridiculous positions imaginable. As for myself, I 
 was walked over some three or four hundred times r 
 and my ribs were sore from frequent punches from 
 the feet of unconscious sleepers said feet being 
 spasmodically shot out at intervals, in an involun- 
 
 15 
 
226 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 tary effort of the tired muscles to secure a little 
 respite from their unnatural tension. 
 
 About daylight we reached the mouth of the Po 
 tomac. After having passed the light-house on 
 Watts Island, and when in the neighborhood of 
 Tangier Sound, the Pocahontas ran aground, hard 
 and fast. 
 
 We spent several hours in fruitless endeavors to 
 haul her oft , and then steamed away for Pocomoke 
 Sound, leaving the red breeches rueful and dis 
 consolate. But we had spent too much time with 
 the Pocahontas. The tide was out, and when near 
 the mouth of Pocomoke river the Star grounded 
 on the mud bar, where we were compelled to lie 
 until high tide. We would have been in a very 
 critical position provided the enemy had had any 
 artillery in the neighborhood. For nine hours we 
 lay perfectly helpless, within point-blank range of 
 a portion of the sacred soil, with the rebels reported 
 in force within a short distance. Fortunately we 
 were not molested, and a little after 9 o clock, 
 crossed the bar and entered the mouth of the Poco 
 moke, where there was plenty of water for the 
 largest vessels. 
 
 The Pocomoke must be seen to be appreciated. 
 No description could do justice to its beauties. It 
 is a narrow, crooked stream not wider than a 
 creek with low, marshy banks, and water as 
 black as ink. There was apparently no current in 
 it, except that caused by the ebb and flow of the 
 tide. There was some dry land between the 
 mouth and Newtown, a distance of twenty miles, 
 
THE LATE WAR. 227 
 
 but the most of the country immediately adjacent 
 to the river was cypress swamp. The person who 
 has never seen a cypress swamp has one nameless 
 horror yet to experience. The dismal cypress 
 trees, festooned with poisonous vines the queer- 
 looking cypress "knees" shooting up in myriads 
 around the roots of the trees ; the filthy marsh, 
 "" where the serpent feeds," and the stagnant water, 
 with its load of miasma formed a picture not easily 
 forgotten. 
 
 We had been led to expect trouble in ascending 
 the Pocomoke, as it was reported that batteries had 
 been built along its bank, between the mouth and 
 Newtown. In expectation of being fired upon, Col 
 onel McMillan formed his men on the upper and 
 lower, decks of the boat, in the best manner possi 
 ble, and we cautiously steamed up. One after an 
 other we passed the points at which the batteries 
 had been appointed, without interruption, and 
 reached Newtown in due season. We ran up to a 
 little dirty wharf, alongside of which a few shabby 
 lumber schooners were moored. The banks were 
 lined with a crowd of negroes of all sizes, ages 
 and sexes, whose staring eyes were almost pop 
 ping out of their heads with amazement, and their 
 teeth chattering with terror. The boat having been 
 moored, the vanguard of the Grand Army of the 
 Potomac marched ashore, and bivouacked in an 
 open lot, close to a little snufF-colored Catholic 
 church, with a funny cupola and steeple, and a 
 graveyard in the rear. With exception of the ne 
 groes, and an occasional glimpse of a pair of bright 
 
225 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 eyes, and part of a figure all in white peeping out 
 from behind the window curtains, we saw no signs 
 of life about Newtown at that time. It was a little 
 place, of about 800 inhabitants. They called it 
 Newtown because it was so old. The population 
 seemed to be mainly composed of colored people 
 and women the presumption being that most of 
 the men are skulking in the woods, or in the rebel 
 army. 
 
 The day after we arrived there, Colonel Payne s 
 Wisconsin regiment came down from Snow Hill, 
 and encamped alongside of us. Our Zouave friends 
 also came in on the Star. Nem s battery of Massa- 
 chusets flying artillery, Captain Richard s Penn 
 sylvania dragoons, and a detachment of Delaware 
 men, also came in. 
 
 General Lockwood was in command of the 
 troops. He was a Delaware man, of whom I 
 knew nothing. His force was about 3,500, inc"lud- 
 ing the troops I have mentioned. The Purnell 
 Legion of Maryland troops encamped over the 
 river near there, with some Eastern Shore men, 
 whose position or strength I was unable to ascer 
 tain. 
 
 It rained constantly all night, and as we were 
 encamped on low ground and not particularly well 
 provided for, it may be imagined that our position 
 was not a pleasant one, but I never saw any troops 
 more eager for a fight than those of the Twenty- 
 first. We were commanded by Colonel McMillan 
 in person, who proved himself a thorough officer, 
 and fully equal to any position in which he might be 
 
THE LATE WAR. 229 
 
 placed. Our excellent adjutant, Mat. Latham, was 
 also with us. On the map is a narrow peninsula, 
 about ninty miles in length, lying between the bay 
 and the ocean, which was geographically a part of 
 Maryland, but had always belonged to Virginia. 
 Of this peninsula was formed the two counties of 
 Accomac and Northampton. It was reported that 
 General Magmder had entrenched himself in Ac 
 comac county, with 4,000 or 5,000 men, a short dis 
 tance from us, and our expedition was to "clean 
 out" the two Virginia counties entirely. Every 
 thing indicated that an engagement was expected, 
 and probably a bloody one ; for myself I did not 
 anticipate any fight. And when the magnificent 
 bubble of the peninsula war was pricked, very little 
 survived the collapse. We came out from Balti 
 more prepared for a vigorous and effective cam 
 paign, with infantry, cavalry, artillery, ambulances, 
 surgeons and lint. The most exaggerated stories 
 of the force and formidable preparations of the 
 rebels were circulated, and many thought it possi 
 ble that there might be a fight, in view of the ex 
 tensive preparations made. 
 
 The entire force under the command of Gen. 
 Lockwood, amounted to near five thousand men. 
 That of the enemy, as near as it could be ascer 
 tained, was about seven hundred ! When our boys 
 learned that all this preparation was made to at 
 tack seven hundred undisciplined men, armed with 
 shot-guns and squirrel rifles, their rage and disgust 
 was unutterable. All we did was to devour our 
 chagrin and leave Newtown. We took up our line 
 
230 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 of march southward. The troops that left New 
 town, were nine hundred Wisconsin, five hundred 
 Zouaves, five hundred Michigan, and five hundred 
 Twenty-first Indiana, together with Nim s Flying- 
 Artillery and Capt. Richards Pennsylvania cav 
 alry, each one hundred and fifty strong. We 
 crossed the Maryland line about six miles from 
 Newtown, and for the first time set foot on the 
 sacred soil of Virginia. It was the first time our 
 men had had an opportunity of trying the realities- 
 of a march, and the most of them thought there 
 was no fun in trudging along a muddy road, with 
 a forty pound knapsack slung over the shoulder, 
 nothing to eat but sheet-iron crackers and raw ba 
 con, with a handful of persimmons for dessert. 
 After several miles in Virginia, we came upon 
 rebel "sign" in the shape of large numbers of 
 trees cut across the road. In the innocence of 
 their hearts they supposed we would turn back 
 when we came to this fallen timber ; but not a bit 
 of it ! A few miles further on we arrived at the 
 rebel fort a rude breastwork, forming a half-cir 
 cle, with a deep ditch around it, and embrasures 
 for mounting three or four guns. It was so poorly 
 constructed, that even if properly manned, it would 
 have been worse than useless. There was not 
 room in the embrasures to work the guns, and 
 nothing to prevent its being stormed in the rear. 
 The rebels had evacuated, and had left in hot 
 haste for the South. 
 
 We passed this fort, which our adjutant chris- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 231 
 
 tened the "Rebel s Folly," and came on to Oak 
 Hill, two or three miles further, and encamped. 
 
 Our commissariat had been very poorly pro 
 vided. We had had nothing to eat since leaving 
 Baltimore but bacon and hard bread ; and the 
 worst feature was, there was not enough of that. 
 Our colonel made most vigorous efforts to keep 
 the men from stealing ; but it could not be ex 
 pected that soldiers would starve, or even go very 
 hungry in the enemy s country, and the tents had 
 scarcely been pitched an hour before chickens 
 were squawking and pigs squealing in every direc 
 tion. There was miserable mismanagement some 
 where. Capt. Richards cavalry had had no tents 
 since leaving Baltimore, and nothing whatever to 
 eat except a little hard bread they had brought in 
 their haversacks. The country was much better 
 than I expected to see, taking Newtown as a spec 
 imen. It was a pine country, with light, sandy 
 soil, which produced tolerably fair wheat and 
 corn, with the aid of guano. The persimmon 
 grew exuberantly ; and, as a consequence, the 
 oppossum flourished and waxed fat. Everything 
 that came into camp was "possum," but I never 
 before knew the animal wore feathers and hoofs ! 
 
 The negro also abounded to a considerable ex 
 tent. Their ivories glistened on every side, and 
 their broad, greasy faces were radiant with good- 
 humored smiles. Indeed, they were much more 
 pleased to see us than were the white inhabitants. 
 The latter were a slow set. A newspaper never 
 found its way there, unless by accident, and the 
 
232 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 people were almost wholly ignorant of what trans 
 pired in the outside world. I found few who had 
 heard of the sailing of the great fleet, and some 
 who had just heard of Bull Run. They were not 
 at all curious. They asked no questions. They 
 knew nothing and did not want to know anything. 
 Such of them as pretended to know what was 
 going on, had heard only the secession version of 
 the various incidents of the war. 
 
 Their country had made enough bread and meat 
 to live on, but there was no money there, and no 
 commerce of any kind. The people had been so 
 situated they could get nothing from either the 
 North or South. The only port of entry on the 
 peninsula had been abolished, and the Confeder 
 ates had established none. 
 
 We found an old 32-pounder of French or Span 
 ish manufacture there, said to have been dug up in 
 one of the marshes on the sea coast. They need 
 not have gone to the trouble of spiking it, as it 
 was so eaten with rust as to be worthless. 
 
 A horrible accident occurred in the Sixth Michi 
 gan encampment. A soldier, carelessly handling 
 a gun, discharged it and blew off a comrade s 
 head. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE Twenty-first and the Zouaves reached East- 
 ville, Northampton county, Virginia, on the 23d of 
 November, having marched through the entire 
 peninsula without so much as seeing even the tail 
 
THE LATE WAR. 233 
 
 of a foe in arms. We saw plenty of "sign" in the 
 shape of rudely-constructed breastworks, fallen 
 timber, cut across the roads to embarrass our 
 march, and the sites of rebel encampments, aban 
 doned in hot haste ; but the expedition was per 
 fectly barren of actual fighting, and its only tro 
 phies were eight or ten field pieces, well mounted, 
 and several hundred assorted muskets flint locks, 
 percussion locks, and without locks knapsacks, 
 cartridge boxes, and outlandish old sabers. 
 
 Adjutant Latham, with a squad of Richards cav 
 alry, were quite successful in hunting up secreted 
 arms, besides they made several important arrests 
 among others, those of Colonel and Captain 
 West and Lieutenant Bull. Colonel West was the 
 commander-in-chief of the rebel militia in the coun 
 ties of Accomac and Northampton, while the regu 
 lar confederates were commanded by General 
 Charley Smith, a young man about twenty-three 
 of age, and a relative of " Extra Billy." 
 
 The rebels had all dispersed or escaped from the 
 country. It was astonishing to see the number of 
 good Union men. Nearly everybody was for the 
 Union just then and those who could not deny 
 having been in the rebel ranks, were "pressed" 
 into the service. It was a little singular how, with 
 so many Union men in the peninsula, they could 
 have allowed themselves to be forced into a service 
 repugnant to them ; but, perhaps, it was one of the 
 anomalies of war. 
 
 Eastville was a town of about one hundred and 
 fifty inhabitants four miles from any steamboat 
 
234 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 landing, and eight miles from Cherry-Stone wharf,, 
 the old Norfolk Jooat landing. It was only forty 
 miles from there to Norfolk. The peninsula is- 
 very narrow there, and one could go but a short 
 distance from the town on either side, without en 
 countering some of the numerous inlets from the 
 bay or sea. The finest oysters were found on both 
 the bay and seaside. The country about there pre 
 sented the same appearance as at all other points 
 along the road flat and level, with light, sandy 
 soil, and forests of pine, with oak and holly inter 
 mixed. About our encampment, which was in a 
 thick pine wood, northwest of the town, I found 
 thin specimens of the Spanish moss hanging from 
 some of the trees, and several specimens of a var 
 iety of the magnolia indications of a southern 
 latitude. 
 
 In the clerk s office at Eastville, I found judicial 
 records showing a county organization as far back 
 as 1632. This is the country where they ordered 
 a witch to be publicly ducked three times in fifteen 
 minutes. 
 
 Nothing particularly exciting occurred on the 
 march from Oak Hill to this place. The men had 
 given up all hopes of a fight, and after having, to- 
 some extent, recovered from their rage at being so* 
 completely fooled their exasperation in some in 
 stances amounting to that highest degree of indigo- 
 nation known as "bull mad" turned their atten 
 tion to extracting as much fun from the incidents; 
 of their wearisome march as was practicable.. 
 They took particular delight in devilling the dar- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 235 
 
 kies along the route. These persons appeared to 
 be as well posted as their masters, with regard to 
 our coming, and were very much crest-fallen when 
 they found we did not set them free, as they had 
 been led to expect. Some of them had their bun 
 dles ready packed, expecting to be taken along. 
 Atone place, while coming through a wood this 
 side of Drummond Town, the column was startled 
 by the sudden apparition of an old white-headed 
 negress by the road-side, throwing up her hands,, 
 and thanking God vehemently that we had come 
 at last. She said she had prayed for our coming 
 long, and her prayers were at length answered. 
 The boys gave a deafening cheer, and marched 
 on, leaving the poor creature mystified and forlorn. 
 
 At Modest Town and Whitestown we found small 
 editions of the American flag, which were greeted 
 with hearty cheers. These flags had only been dis 
 played the morning we came along, and probably 
 were run up to save their property from the pillage, 
 which the ignorant inhabitants had been taught to 
 expect. At Whitestown we found a supply of to 
 bacco, the scarcity of which had been the cause of 
 much distress. The entire stock of the shopkeeper 
 was purchased by those who had money and divided 
 among their comrades, the boys declaring that 
 their knapsacks felt much lighter, and the blisters 
 on their feet did not hurt half so badly with a quid 
 of the weed between their jaws. 
 
 They classified farmers among the poorer classes 
 of the peninsula according to the number of horses 
 they worked. There was the one-horse farmer.. 
 
236 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 the two and the three-horse farmer, and a man 
 who worked five horses was a "right-smart" far 
 mer. They planted their corn one stalk in the 
 hill and it grew close to the ground, with one ear 
 to the stalk. They knew nothing about acres, but 
 any one could tell you how many thousand hills of 
 corn he had raised. 
 
 The oxen of the peninsula were miserably small 
 and mean looking. They worked them singly in 
 shafts, the load being pushed along by the head. 
 One of them, if properly fattened, might make a 
 meal for a hungry Hoosier, but I would not give a 
 "claco" for the fragments. 
 
 We left Oak Hill in the evening and marched 
 some six or eight miles before camping. The 
 Zouaves were in the lead, and having marched in 
 pretty quick time, they took up an idea they were 
 "putting the Hoosiers through" an idea that 
 seemed to tickle them amazingly. The next day, 
 however, we were in the lead, and concluded to 
 give our red brethren a taste of Hoosier traveling. 
 We marched fifteen miles in five hours, through 
 sand shoe-mouth deep, and stopped for dinner a 
 short distance this side of Drummond Town. The 
 Zouaves were strung along the road for two miles 
 back, and came straggling in, crestfallen and dis 
 gusted, for half an hour after. On the afternoon s 
 march their surgeon rode up and begged Col. Mc 
 Millan for God s sake to halt ; saying that his men 
 could not possibly stand it. 
 
 The peninsula, cut oft from commerce in a 
 great measure, with both the North and South, 
 
THE LATE WAR. 237 
 
 had suffered for many articles of domestic com 
 fort. Sugar, coffee, stationery, and even the nec 
 essaries of peninsular life rum and tobacco were 
 remarkably scarce, the two latter being parted 
 with reluctantly at exorbitant prices. 
 
 No want was more seriously felt by our little 
 army than that of a regular communication with 
 the outside world. We saw nothing and heard 
 nothing except at rare intervals. One day, by a 
 singular streak of good luck, I got hold of a Phil 
 adelphia paper only five days old. What a scram 
 ble then ensued for the second, third, and as high 
 as the fortieth reading. Our little expedition was 
 made to cut a big figure in the papers. We could 
 appreciate the story of three hundred rebels laying 
 down their arms at Drummond Town, when we 
 knew that we had not seen an armed rebel on our 
 march, and that at no time had there been more 
 than a thousand militia in all, in the two counties. 
 
 One could not but admire the sublime audacity 
 of those peninsular rebels. One clay one of them 
 came to our colonel with the modest request for a 
 squad of men to assist him in reclaiming a couple 
 of dusky chattels who had taken to the bush on 
 the approach of our troops. In order to under 
 stand the sublimity of his impudence, it is neces 
 sary to state that these same chattels we were ex 
 pected to hunt up were engaged in working upon 
 one of those unique fortifications at Pongateague, 
 and in felling timber across the roads. It is matter 
 of history, that the petitioner left with a tickling in 
 his ear, having received a piece of the colonel s 
 
238 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 mind, involving a pretty plain statement of the 
 case, embellished with some expressions more en 
 ergetic than polite. 
 
 The hearts of the hungry Twenty-first were 
 gladdened by the arrival of a provision train from 
 Pongateague. It did not reach us any too soon, 
 as we had been for some days living on sweet po 
 tatoes, and tea made of sassafras, dittany, spice- 
 wood, and such other fragrant roots and herbs as 
 we could gather in the woods. The sweet po 
 tato was an -excellent thing to have. The boys 
 liked them, and for sixty or seventy consecutive 
 meals they made a good substitute for bread ; but 
 when it got to be a regular thing, there were some 
 unreasonable enough to growl. Those esculent, 
 but rather flatulent tubers grew in the greatest 
 abundance on the peninsula, and attained enor 
 mous size. They were cheap, too, retailing at 
 twenty-five cents a bushel. 
 
 The utmost carelessness characterized the man 
 agement of our expedition from the first. We left 
 Newtown on very short allowance of provisions 
 crackers and bacon, and no coffee. Our progress 
 through the country was slow enough to give the 
 rebels ample time to secrete their arms and escape 
 so that we captured comparatively few muni 
 tions, and still fewer prisoners. Then the supply 
 steamer was sent to Pongateague Inlet, th rty-five 
 miles from where we encamped, and our food had 
 to be hauled from there in wagons, when it might 
 have been landed at Cherrystone, twenty-seven 
 miles nearer. To add to the catalogue of blun- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 239 
 
 ders, we were for days without soap, and the men 
 were alive with vermin. A man may think he 
 knows all about the hardships of a soldier s life, 
 but he can have no conception of it until he be 
 comes food for smaller insects than himself. The 
 .sickening disgust which creeps over a man who 
 has been raised a gentleman, causes him to loathe 
 himself and his fellow man. Luckily, soap came 
 at last, and an energetic boiling and scrubbing 
 was soon put in progress. 
 
 In speaking of these matters I must exonerate 
 our regimental officers from blame. They did all 
 that was in their power to render us comfortable. 
 "The king of France, with forty thousand men, 
 marched up the hill and then marched down 
 again ! " I am not sure it was the king of France, 
 or being the king of France, zuhich king it was ! 
 But, at any rate, the somewhat notable manoeuvre 
 hinted at in the lines quoted, were cleverly imitated 
 t>y the performances of General Henry H. Lock- 
 wood. Our expedition was perfectly fruitless, so 
 far as we could see, with the exception of having 
 been instrumental in scattering, temporarily, those 
 terrible seven hundred rebels, with their aforesaid 
 dilapidated muskets and shot-guns, and suspend 
 ing for a time the completion of those wonderful 
 batteries we passed at various points on the route. 
 Another good accomplished, possibly, was the scat 
 tering of a little money among the scaly rebels of 
 the region, of which, God knows, they were sadly 
 in need. 
 
 Just before leaving for Baltimore, the camp of 
 
240 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 the Twenty-first Indiana was thrown into a state of 
 terrible excitement by a report that quite a number 
 of men belonging to Captain Richard Campbell s 
 company, from Clay county, had been poisoned. 
 One of the " messes" of Capt. C s company pur 
 chased a "pone" of corn bread from some one of 
 the negro hucksters who thronged the camp with 
 pies, cakes, chickens, and other articles of country 
 produce for sale. They ate a small portion of the 
 bread, but being called out for dress parade, the 
 remainder of the loaf was laid aside for future ref 
 erence. While on parade two of them were taken 
 sick, and immediately after, several others, with 
 nausea and cramps in the stomach. All who ate 
 of the bread, seven in number, were similarly af 
 fected. Emetics were promptly administered, and 
 they were soon out of danger. 
 
 It did not seem that any mineral or other active 
 poison was in the bread, but certainly something 
 got into it, whether by design or accident, that 
 made the boys sick for a time. 
 
 Quite a ludicrous scene transpired in the camp 
 of the Michigan Sixth at this time, in which our 
 brigadier general played a prominent part. The 
 general was treating himself to an airing in his 
 carriage, when he met a soldier on the road with a 
 decapitated turkey in his hand. The general 
 stopped him, inquired where he belonged, and was 
 particularly anxious to know all about the turkey. 
 The soldier told him he had purchased it, and the 
 general drove off apparently satisfied; but the 
 turkey lay heavily on his mind. He could not im- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 24! 
 
 agine how a private could honestly possess a tur 
 key ; and if a soldier could so far forget himself as 
 to "purvey" a fowl of such magnificent dimen 
 sions, especially while being furnished by the gov 
 ernment with so rich a diet as sweet potatoes, he 
 ought to be made an example of. So the general 
 drove to the camp of the Michigan boys, having in 
 the meantime worked himself up into a furious 
 rage, swearing that if found, the soldier should be 
 shot, and ordered an investigation. The com 
 panies were all paraded, and the search began, 
 the general making the rounds with the company 
 officers. The Michigan boys were stupefied with 
 astonishment at first, but finally the general was 
 startled by the gobbling of a turkey in his rear. 
 He turned his head to look for the offender, when 
 another clever imitation of a turkey-cock was 
 heard in front, and then a perfect storm of turkey 
 calls, cock-adoodle-doos, the hissing of geese, and 
 other specimen of barn-yard vocalism, broke out 
 all over the camp. The general beat a retreat, 
 and on going out the gate, found a pole erected, on 
 which was conspicuously placed fifteen or twenty 
 turkey, chicken and gee se heads. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 EARLY in December, the Twenty-first Indiana re 
 turned from the Eastern Shore expedition to Balti 
 more, having passed through the many dangers 
 and vicissitudes of that bloodless campaign without 
 16 
 
242 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 the loss of a single man ! We marched sixteen 
 miles on the Pongateague road, then encamped in 
 a pine wood with our brethren of the gay and vol 
 uminous trowsers otherwise known as Zouaves. 
 Fuel was plenty, and by scraping together the 
 fallen leaves, we made beds, which for convenience 
 were as good as any feathers that ever grew on a 
 grey goose s back. A slight fall of snow covered 
 the ground in the morning, giving things a winter- 
 ish appearance. After breakfast on the impossi 
 ble cracker and the inevitable hog, we struck tents 
 once more, resumed our march for eight or ten 
 miles, when we reached Pongateague inlet. There 
 the "Star" was waiting, but having tasted her com 
 forts on the march out, we magnanimously allowed 
 our Zouave brethren to march aboard, and con 
 cluded to wait for the next steamer. After two 
 long and dreary days, we boarded the "Wilson 
 Small," where soon the disgusting fact became 
 apparent that the accommodations of the " Small " 
 were worse than those of the "Star." I know 
 nothing from actual experience of the "horrors of 
 the middle passage," but I shall never forget the 
 long agony of the voyage from Pongateague on 
 the "Wilson Small." There was nothing to eat, 
 and neither room to lie down nor stand up, with 
 tobacco ejections an inch and a half deep all over 
 the decks. To add to the comforts of the trip, 
 about one-third of the boys got sea-sick, and were 
 "heaving" right and left, without so much as 
 taking time to cry "stand from under." 
 
 Gen. Lockwood and staff, whether deservedly 
 
THE LATE WAR. 243 
 
 or not, were very unpopular with the troops. The 
 general s personal appearance was not prepossess 
 ing. He stuttered, wore spectacles, and looked 
 like a cross between a Presbyterian minister and a 
 Jewish pawnbroker. He was prolific in the mat 
 ter of general orders, and his "policy" appeared 
 to have been shaped almost exclusively for the 
 protection of the rebels. Horses, known to have 
 been employed in the rebel cavalry, were released, 
 after being seized, on the quibble that they did not 
 belong to the Confederate Government, but were 
 merely hired at so much a day. No seizure of 
 arms could be made without first obtaining a 
 special order from the general, by which time they 
 would be removed to some new hiding-place. 
 Most awful punishments impended over the heads 
 of those who, impelled by hunger or a longing for 
 a change of diet, dared to disturb the tranquility 
 of secession poultry-yards, and it was reported 
 that a private of the Sixth Michigan was sent back 
 to Fort McHenry in irons for stealing a turnip. 
 Secession owners, on whose ground the troops 
 camped, were paid good prices for fodder and 
 corn, and liberal damages for fuel burned. Some 
 of them even asked to be paid for the dead pine 
 leaves the soldiers used for bedding. 
 
 The winter quarters of the Twenty-first Indiana 
 were commodious and comfortable. Four hun 
 dred were quartered inside the fort andsix hundred 
 outside. Notwithstanding the unexampled mild 
 ness of the weather, our boys suffered somewhat 
 for the want of comfortable quarters, and it was a 
 
244 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 matter for congratulation when they were at last 
 housed, as the winter had begun in earnest. And 
 they could now speak out their defiance of cold, 
 rain and mud, in the words of a song which was 
 immensely popular in the army, the burden of 
 which is that it is a matter of perfect indifference 
 how the wide world wags, for they are firmly re 
 solved to be " gay and happy still." 
 
 A movement was at this time on foot to equip 
 the entire regiment with new guns the Merrill 
 breech-loading rifle the soldiers buying the guns 
 themselves, with the expectation of being ulti 
 mately reimbursed by the Government. As it 
 then stood, we had in the regiment two hundred 
 and fifty Enfield rifles, about two hundred heavy 
 Belgian rifles, nearly as good as the Enfield, and 
 the remainder of the guns were miserable things 
 infinitely worse than the old altered smooth-bore 
 muskets. Of these latter we had two kinds, one a 
 clumsy-looking affair, with a stationary sight, and 
 a wide and uncertain range in firing, which looked 
 as if it had been roughly cast in some country foun 
 dry ; and the other a long gun with a thin barrel, a 
 calibre one or two sizes larger than the cartridge, 
 a graduating sight, ranging from fifty to one thou 
 sand four hundred yards, and a bayonet about a 
 yard in length. A good marksman, if in luck, 
 might have occasionally hit a good-sized barn at 
 one hundred yards, provided he could have found 
 one of the guns with sufficient strength in the lock 
 to explode the cap. Some of these guns, from in 
 scriptions on the stocks, we found belonged to a 
 
THE LATE WAR. 245 
 
 regiment which had a pretty fair taste of the Bull 
 Run fight. Armed with such weapons, no fault 
 could be found with them for running away. The 
 only reprehensible feature in it was that they did not 
 leave their guns behind. 
 
 Captain Hess s company contracted for and re 
 ceived the Merrill gun, a breech-loader, with sabre 
 bayonet, and universally admitted to be superior 
 to Sharpens, or any other breech-loading gun. 
 Simple in construction not liable to get out of or 
 der it could be fired with great rapidity an.d ex 
 traordinary accuracy at a range of six hundred 
 yards. The piece was also not so liable to become 
 foul in firing as muzzle-loading rifles. We fired 
 them as often as eighty times without cleaning. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 OUR inglorious march to the peninsula and back 
 again, with its attendant failures, provoked an uni 
 versal growl all along the line. Ordinarily, a man 
 in military life is not allowed to growl, if he growls 
 aloud ; but even a court-martial seems preferable 
 to spontaneous combustion. 
 
 Prominent among the subjects provocative of 
 growls at that time, were the fantastic tricks of that 
 great convention of donkeys, our National Con 
 gress. What flashing scintillations of genius, what 
 precious pearls of wisdom fell from the lips of the- 
 
46 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 grave and reverend seignors composing that august 
 body, and were cast by the oracular telegraph and 
 the clanking steam-press before the millions of les 
 ser donkeys who peopled this great and glorious, 
 and so forth ! Sagacious, provident, far-seeing 
 Congress became alarmed at the inroads upon our 
 venerable Uncle s strong box, and turned with fe 
 rocious and virtuous zeal from the pastime of inves 
 tigating the conduct or misconduct of the war to 
 the work of retrenchment and reform, and to the 
 tightening of the purse-strings. Congress desired 
 to economize, and bills cutting down the pay of 
 army officers were introduced, saving a miserable 
 pittance, while scoundrel contractors swindled the 
 Nation by the million. Congress cobbled with sut- 
 tler bills and chaplain bills, while our Grand Army 
 of the Potomac rotted in foul winter quarters at a 
 cost of hundreds of lives and millions of dollars 
 each day. The trickling drops of the spigot were 
 gathered and preserved, while the great stream 
 flowed steadily from the bung-hole. The some 
 what novel question of the disposition of rebel 
 slaves also received its share of attention a ques 
 tion peculiarly puzzling when considered in con 
 junction with the fact, that we had not then nor 
 were likely to have soon, possession of any consid 
 erable amount of rebel territory containing slaves. 
 The scholarly Sumner, his one idea revivified and 
 invigorated by the application of the French 
 moxa the pestilent and bellowing Lovejoy the 
 brawling cobbler of Natick raved about the con- 
 
 o 
 
 fiscation of rebel slaves, between whom and Fed- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 247 
 
 eral deliverance bristled long lines of rebel bay 
 onets. The negro ! tojour the negro ! In the midst 
 of torrents of abolition eloquence and floods of 
 emancipation petitions, Congress frittered away its 
 precious time in idle vaporing. 
 
 "General McClellan had the enemy in a trap," 
 we were told. While we admired the charming 
 simplicity, and envied the delicious self-confidence 
 of the devout believers in the "trap" theory, 
 many of us had greater faith in hard, solid fight 
 ing, than in science. It looked, to our untutored 
 minds, very much like the "trap" in which the 
 lamented John Phoenix caught the judge, during 
 the progress of the famous Sacramento fight, when, 
 lying upon his back, he inserted his nose* be 
 tween the judge s teeth for the purpose of holding 
 him down! Admitting the trap, was it not time, in 
 all conscience, that our "youthful commander" 
 should seriously consider the propriety of spring 
 ing it and bagging his game? Some of us whose 
 buttons were of the basest brass, guiltless of gilt 
 upon whose shoulders were no insignia of rank, 
 and whose chapeaux were unadorned with golden 
 bugles whose periodical drafts upon the treasury 
 would not have kept a contractor in cigars and 
 champagne forty-eight hours, but who had wives 
 and friends at home whom we loved, and whose 
 society we sadly missed who had no particular 
 fancy for military restraint, and the necessary 
 brute-life of the camp were anxious that the in 
 fernal war should be brought to a speedy close. 
 If the sense of the entire army could have been 
 
248 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 taken, its united voice would have been ONWARD. 
 Fight to-day, and if defeated, fight to-morrow, and 
 the next day, and the day after. If McClellan 
 was not ready, he ought to have been. The miser 
 able mongrels of Mexico fought a superior race, 
 and were defeated on two successive days, at Palo 
 Alto and Resaca de le Palma, and we thought it a 
 burning shame that an immense army, made up of 
 the bravest, freest, most intelligent men in the 
 world, fighting for the perpetuation of the fairest 
 fabric of human government the sun ever shone 
 upon, should, six months after a defeat, not have 
 recovered sufficient strength and confidence to 
 have hazarded another battle. Oh ! for a Napo 
 leon ; but our Napoleon died when the brilliant 
 Douglas yielded up his life and seemed to leave 
 no hero spirit behind him. 
 
 If we had had fewer smooth-bore muskets, no 
 balloons, and less new-fangled inventions for de 
 stroying our enemies without exposing ourselves, 
 it would have been better for the country. Long- 
 range guns make long wars. Encourage a soldier 
 to believe that he can "pink" a rebel at a thou 
 sand yards, and you will have difficulty to bring 
 him close enough to use the bayonet, or to become 
 inspired with the genuine battle frenzy. Among 
 other nostrums of military quacks was that of the 
 Greek fire-shell, experimented with at Washing 
 ton, which, fired from a safe and convenient dis 
 tance, was to explode over the camp of the sons of 
 Belial, covering them with a flood of fire, brim 
 stone, naphtha and other combustible ingredients. 
 
THE LATE WAR. 249 
 
 Without profanity, that might be termed a h 11 of 
 an invention. 
 
 While the war was thus being prosecuted with a 
 most masterly in activity, unblushing treason stalked 
 in the broad light of day throughout the West ; in 
 creased its power and extended its influence day 
 by day. Davis remained unhung, and Vallandig- 
 ham distilled his venom in the very halls of Con 
 gress. Of all the traitors, rank and pestilent as 
 they were, that had been arrested by the authori 
 ties, could any have been pointed at then as hav 
 ing received punishment, beyond a little temporary 
 confinement? Treason deliberated in open con 
 clave at Indianapolis, and a strong and powerful 
 organization was at work to hamper and embar 
 rass the government in its efforts to subdue the re 
 bellion. I tremble with indignant rage at the re 
 flection that those men prostituted the name Demo 
 crat consecrated by the wisdom of a Jefferson 
 and a Douglas to their vile purposes. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FOR four months there was an alternation of 
 rains, snows, sleets, hails, freezes and thaws. The 
 depth of the mud was almost incredible, and every 
 thing about the camp wore a nasty, humid look. 
 The Providence which tempers the wind to the 
 shorn lamb brought us through, however, with the 
 
250 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 aid of such philosophy as could be brought to bear 
 upon ills of camp life in the rainy season. 
 
 February 9, Captain Grimsley came in from the 
 West with forty-three fine, healthy-looking re 
 cruits for the Twenty-first, picked up by Major 
 Hayes and Lieutenant Elkins. Some few of them 
 had seen service in the three-months regiments, 
 and in Fremont s body guard, but the most were 
 perfectly "raw," and fresh from the rural districts 
 of Indiana. They spent the day in looking about, 
 staring at the new and strange scenes of camp life, 
 and listening in open-mouthed wonder to the whop 
 ping lies with which they were industriously plied 
 by their acquaintances, who had had the advan 
 tages of our seven months experience of military 
 life. In posting up the recruits as to the duties of 
 camp life, and the rigor with which any derelic 
 tion of duty was punished, our practical jokers 
 made a perfect raw-head-and-bloody-bones of the 
 adjutant, gravely telling them that the most of the 
 men from our regiment reported as having died 
 were shot by the adjutant for failing to appear on 
 dress parade with clean white gloves and black 
 ened boots. 
 
 It was at this period we fed ourselves with the 
 idea that the services of our regiment would soon 
 be required in Kentucky. There was a rumor, 
 based.on what foundation no one could sav, that 
 the Government had concluded that Washington 
 was safe enough, and that a large body of the 
 troops then eating the bread of idleness, might 
 .be safely withdrawn from the East and judiciously 
 
THE LATE WAR. 251 
 
 employed in the West. It was said that the rail 
 roads had been notified to hold themselves in 
 readiness to transport sixty thousand troops at a 
 moment s notice. 
 
 But instead of being ordered to the West, we 
 left our quarters at Fort Marshall, on the afternoon 
 of February 19, 1862, and were shipped aboard 
 the "Georgia" and "Georgiana" for Fortress 
 Monroe. All along the route, from our camp to 
 the wharf, we were greeted with rapturous testi 
 monials of good will by the citizens. The side 
 walks were thronged with women and children 
 wishing us God speed ! and waving flags. In 
 this respect our departure was in charming con 
 trast to our arrival the previous July. 
 
 We arrived at the Fortress on the afternoon of 
 the 2Oth, remained over night, then went down to 
 Newport News, and into camp. 
 
 The scene about the Fortress was peculiarly in 
 teresting. Throngs of officers and soldiers were 
 about the wharf, the ragged sides of the "Rip 
 Raps" rose out of the water Sewall s Point was 
 in the distance little smoky tugs and gunboats 
 darted about the harbor in the most frantic man 
 ner, and the grim port-holes of many noble war 
 vessels lent additional interest to the picture. As 
 we steamed down to the News, a flag of truce, on 
 its way to Craney.Island, crept lazily around Sew 
 all s Point and the stars and bars of rebellion flut 
 tered over secession camps on the opposite shore. 
 
 Newport News was a queer-looking collection of 
 long rows of barn-like barracks, white tents and 
 
252 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 cabins built of pine logs set up endwise with the 
 bark on, and the interstices plastered with blue 
 mud. The Cumberland and several other war ves 
 sels were anchored in the harbor. 
 
 The first night we quartered in some horse sheds r 
 but soon got into our own tents. There were about 
 six or eight thousand troops at Newport News 
 then, and more arriving daily. 
 
 Brigadier General Pierce, the hero of Great 
 Bethel, then a colonel of a regiment, was there. 
 The 22d was celebrated by a roaring salute from 
 the war vessels in the harbor. We also heard guns- 
 from the secession camps, but could not say 
 whether they were firing them in honor of Wash 
 ington s memory, the inauguration of Jeff Davis, 
 or were having a glorification over the brilliant 
 success of the Confederate arms at Fort Donelson. 
 
 Our sojourn at the News was anything but mo 
 notonous ; the weather alone afforded us infinite 
 variety. After the heavy fall of rain and thor 
 ough saturation that immediately succeeded our 
 arrival, a terrible gale in fact a perfect simoon 
 swept over the neighborhood for about eight hours. 
 The storm came up suddenly about n o clock A. 
 M., and in a short time half the tents were pros 
 trated, and overcoats, blankets and miscellaneous 
 articles of clothing were flying through the air. 
 The "sacred soil," which there consisted of a 
 coarse sand, rose in clouds, and was driven in 
 stinging volleys into the face and eyes of such as 
 were so unfortunate as to be without shelter. 
 
 Down at the water, the scene, to one not accus- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 253 
 
 tomed to seeing old ocean on the rampage, bor 
 dered on the sublime. The waves ran " mountain 
 high" (small mountains), and the angry roar of 
 the surf was appalling. Far over towards the se 
 cession side, tossing helplessly on the turbulent 
 waters, and flying signals of distress, two small 
 vessels stood in imminent danger of being cast 
 right into the jaws of the enemy. Two small, 
 black-loookingtugs, from Fortress Monroe, steamed 
 out to their rescue, and brought them in. 
 
 Our camp was called Butler. In the interim be 
 tween our landing and the sailing of the expedi 
 tion, our time was neither idly nor unprofitablv 
 spent. From ten to twelve we drilled in company, 
 skirmish and bayonet exercise ; from two till five 
 forty-five, battalion. The Twenty-first Indiana 
 compared favorably, in appearance and drill, with 
 any of the regiments there. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 EARLY in March, 1862, we left Newport News, 
 and after a weary time, landed at Ship s Island, 
 where for twenty-two days we heard nothing from 
 the outside world. We were literally famished for 
 news. For ought we knew, the world might have 
 turned topsy-turvy, or the " Dutch taken Holland." 
 Our only mental pabulum was the lies out of whole 
 cloth which the Munchausens of the regiment were 
 ever ready to feed to us. 
 
254 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 After our landing we experienced an almost 
 uninterrupted succession of "Northers." The 
 Norther is an institution of the Southern coast, 
 with which none need desire an acquaintance. 
 
 About the middle of April, we marched out from 
 our encampment, leaving our tents standing, and 
 embarked on the " Great Republic." The Great 
 Republic was a large sail vessel, but not capable of 
 accommodating three thousand men. We thought 
 we were crowded on the Constitution, but on the 
 Great Republic there was not room to eat, sleep, 
 walk or breathe. The lower decks were badly 
 ventilated, and between them the men were packed 
 as closely as woolly heads on a slave ship. There 
 were no berths for sleeping, and the poor devils 
 were compelled to lie prone on the deck, packed 
 like hogs in a rotten straw pile, reeking with hor 
 rible filth. 
 
 After getting all ready for a start, the Jackson 
 a little gun-boat, formerly a New York ferry-boat 
 hitched on to tow us down to the Passes. The 
 rest of the expedition got out of the harbor very 
 creditably, but we spent fifteen hours in frantic 
 endeavors to turn the Great Republic about, so 
 that she might go out respectably, bow on, and 
 not like a crab. There was a deal of .screaming 
 and yelling, and lusty swearing, and everybody 
 worked themselves up almost to the exploding 
 point of ill-humor ; but not an inch would the Great 
 Republic budge in the right direction. Her rud 
 der had been so badly injured in a gale a few 
 nights previous as to be almost useless, and the lit- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 255 
 
 tie Jackson found she had got more than she bar 
 gained for when she undertook to carry such a 
 load. Finally, however, the stubborn monster was 
 headed right, but by this time the wind had shifted 
 and was dead ahead. We poked along, making 
 about a knot in sixteen hours. By sunset, Ship 
 Island may the d 1 fly away with it had faded 
 away, and in the course of time, I can not pretend 
 to say how many days, but it seemed an age, we 
 dropped anchor at the S. W. Pass, where it seemed 
 we were destined to stay for the remainder of the 
 season. 
 
 Our living on the Great Republic approached 
 nearer a state of actual starvation than at any 
 other time. We had a ration of hard bread, about 
 an ounce of abominable pork or salt horse, and not 
 quite a half pint of villainous stuff called coffee, 
 composed principally of burnt peas, or some other 
 substance. (General Butler s brother was post- 
 commissary at Ship Island, and if he was not him 
 self engaged in swindling, he was criminally neg 
 ligent in allowing others to rob the government.) 
 During the voyage from Ship Island we were al 
 lowed a pint of water per day totally inadequate 
 to alleviate the horrible thirst occasioned by the 
 heat and salt food. Once or twice we had beans 
 and rice, but so miserably cooked that even the 
 stomach of an ostrich would have rejected the un 
 savory mess. 
 
 While anchored there, we heard them hammer 
 ing away at Fort Jackson for five days, with what 
 effect we did not know at that time. The fort was 
 
256 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 thirty-five or forty miles above us, by the river, but 
 probably not more than thirty-five in a direct line. 
 When the state of the atmosphere and the wind 
 were favorable, we could distincly hear the thun 
 dering of the big mortars, and the sharp responses 
 of the rifle guns from the fort, and see the thick 
 clouds of sulphurous smoke shoot upward and 
 spread over the horizon after each discharge. One 
 night the bombardment seemed more terrific than 
 at any previous time. By climbing to the cross- 
 trees, on the main mast, I succeeded in getting a 
 magnificent view of the contest, which amply re 
 paid me for the danger of breaking my neck. The 
 great sheets of flame belched from the capacious 
 mortar mouths were distinctly visible, reddening 
 the sky for a moment, while an occasional shell 
 bursting in the air short of its destination, would 
 be seen for an instant like a brilliant meteor, and 
 then disappear. Large volumes of flames would 
 occasionally shoot up, and burn fiercely for half an 
 hour. Those we conjectured to be fire-rafts, sent 
 down from the fort with the hope of destroying the 
 mortar fleet. From the indications, we were in 
 clined to think Commodore Porter had his work 
 cut out for him that time, and found Forts Jackson 
 and St. Philip a tough job tougher than salt horse 
 and army bread. All accounts represented the 
 rebel guns as having been served with a skill and 
 efficiency quite remarkable. 
 
 A story went the rounds that our excellent major 
 general thought he could run up in the night and 
 look at the immense chain stretched across the 
 
THE LATE WAR. 257 
 
 river, about a quarter of a mile this side of Fort 
 Jackson. I suppose he was anxious to go up and 
 reconnoitre, principally because he had no busi 
 ness there. He did not propose to do anything ex 
 cept satisfy his curiosity. Reticence is a virtue 
 peculiarly prominent in great commanders, and 
 Major General B. F. B. informed no one of his 
 intentions, but, taking a small steamer, and a 
 judicious selection from his staff , he quietly and 
 cautiously steamed up the river, in the direction of 
 the mysterious obstacle. The lookout on one of 
 the outlying mortar boats, seeing a suspicious craft 
 stealing past, hailed it. No answer was returned, 
 and the suspicious craft kept steadily on its course. 
 One of the big-throated mortars was hastily trained 
 to bear on the m. g s. boat. , A thundering report 
 made the waters tremble, and a thirteen inch shell 
 burst in uncomfortable proximity to the party of 
 reconnoisance. The general s boat was promptly 
 put about, and he made excellent time down the 
 river, his curiosity fully satisfied. Unfortunately, 
 rie did not halt for a second hint, or the country 
 might have been relieved of as pure a patriot as 
 ever voted fifty-seven times for Jeff. Davis in the 
 Charleston convention. 
 
 General Thomas Williams, commanding our 
 present brigade, might not be considered un 
 worthy of a slight notice at my hands. The gen 
 eral was a Vermonter by birth, and until the break 
 ing out of the rebellion was a captain or a major in 
 the regular army. He was a man about five feet 
 eight inches in height, slender, florid complexion, 
 17 
 
258 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 whiskers all over his face, and hair originally 
 auburn in color, but then nearly gray, a fact to 
 be attributed to service and constant study of mili 
 tary science rather than to the frosts of many win 
 ters. He had the cold, merciless gray eye, insep 
 arably connected with the idea of a great com 
 mander, but it lacked depth, its expression being 
 peculiarly shallow. At a glance you were liable 
 to be " taken in" by the surface glitter, but a 
 closer inspection discovered the sham, and lead 
 inevitably to the conclusion that " there was noth 
 ing in it." He carried his head high in the air, 
 wore a McClellan cap, and had a fashion when in 
 the field of shading his eyes by placing his hand 
 transversely across his forehead, palm downward, 
 thumb resting on the nose, and little finger turned 
 outward. 
 
 The general had three or four aids smooth 
 faced, soft-looking striplings, who looked as if 
 they would appear to greater advantage "caper 
 ing nimbly in a lady s drawing room," or learning 
 the rule of three in a village school, rather than on 
 the tented field. Through them we got at second 
 hand their chief s ideas about military affairs. It 
 was very much like a pale refraction of moon 
 shine. 
 
 The general was proprietor of a new and un 
 heard-of manoeuvre, which he called the "order 
 of combat," by which a regiment was thrown into 
 a sort of echelon, one division in front, a division 
 on either flank, and division distance in the rear, 
 and two divisions massed in the rear of these, and 
 
THE LATE WAR. 259 
 
 crossing the division in front. The movement was 
 open to the objection not only of being absolutely 
 worthless, but of laying a whole regiment under 
 fire, with only one division, or at best three, able to 
 do anything. It could not be effected by any com 
 bination of commands, in the tactics, but in chang 
 ing direction, etc., new commands must be in 
 vented. The whole proceeding was irregular and 
 awkward, yet on the subject of "order of com 
 bat," Gen. Williams was a monomaniac. 
 
 The following incident happened at Ship Island. 
 The troops were drawn up in brigade line, when 
 the general thought it advisable to bring them to 
 a "shoulder arms." Rising in his stirrups he 
 called out, " Shouldah ! " The colonels repeated 
 the command, and the general, after waiting a few 
 moments and seeing that no one moved, again 
 called out sharply, < S/zout-dah I " Still no one 
 stirred, and the general shaded his eyes to see if 
 he could detect the difficulty. "Shoul-^/" he 
 again blurted out with increasing animation. The 
 colonels repeated the command, but still the butts 
 of the rifles clung pertinaciously to the sand. In 
 utter astonishment the general sent Adjutant Gen 
 eral Wyckham Hoffman along the line to instruct 
 the officers to repeat the command. After his 
 aid had returned he roared out, " Shoul-tffo/z/" 
 Colonels, officers, and non-commissioned officers 
 re-echoed "Shoulder!" but all to no purpose. 
 The general, almost bursting with rage, shook his 
 fist at Colonels Payne and McMillan, whom he 
 chose to consider at the bottom of all devilment, 
 
26O THE LATE WAR. 
 
 and started down with the intention of generally 
 blowing up everybody, when he suddenly remem 
 bered that he had forgotten to give the command 
 of execution, "Arms." Since then, while taking 
 his airings on the poop of the Great Republic, he 
 was frequently startled with stentorian cries of 
 "Shouldah!" 
 
 The general, with his aids and servants, monop 
 olized the cabin, and would not allow even a col 
 onel to domesticate with him. The general lay in 
 his comfortable bunk beside an open window, en 
 joying the sunshine and breeze, and weighing the 
 argument in favor of and against the propriety of 
 getting up, when one of our colonels came along, 
 and leaning over the taffrail,with his portly figure, 
 intercepted the general s streak of sun-light. " Get 
 away from there you!" roared the amiable Napo 
 leon ot the Second brigade, N. E. D. You had 
 better believe there was a mad colonel around 
 about that time. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 FORTS Jackson and St. Philip fell. New Orleans 
 had surrendered, and the flag waved over the cus 
 tom house. The heavy blockading squadron at 
 the mouths of the river was relieved. It was not 
 my good fortune to witness the glorious scene at 
 tending the bombardment. After fooling around 
 the Pass until we were all heartily sick and dis- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 26 1 
 
 gusted, being transferred daily from one vessel to 
 another, in vain endeavors to so lighten the 
 Great Republic that she could be taken over the 
 bar, on the afternoon of the 25th of April, while 
 aboard the steam frigate Colorado, we received or 
 ders to move around in the rear of Fort St. Philip, 
 in the vicinity of Black Lake Bay, and disem 
 bark. The Colorado, to the officers and crew Of 
 which we were under obligations for kind treat 
 ment, was temporarily under the command of 
 Lieut. Davis, of Carlisle, Indiana, a fine speci 
 men of the thorough seaman, gallant officer, and 
 finished gentleman. The order for disembarkation- 
 in the rear of Fort St. Philip was given by Gen. 
 Butler, in consequence of information that the two 
 forts would be ours, as soon as we chose to take 
 them, and was designed to cut off the retreat of 
 the rebel garrisons in that direction. After an 
 other transfer to the filthy decks of the Great Re 
 public, which, coming from the clean, smooth floors 
 of the Colorado, seemed like a descent from a well- 
 furnished parlor to a hog-stye, we were taken in 
 tow by a steam craft of some sort, and carried 
 around to the rear of the fort, where we dropped 
 anchor on the morning of the 27th. There we 
 were again transferred to the gunboat Miami, and 
 ran in as close to the land as her draught of water 
 would permit. We were still five or six miles off, 
 which distance had to be traversed in small boats. 
 A narrow strip of swamp land, covered with 
 reeds and willows, ran between the water and the 
 Mississippi. Forts St. Philip and Jackson were 
 
262 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 plainly visible from the deck of the Miami, and to 
 our gratification, we found the old flag waving over 
 both. This necessitated another change in the 
 programme, and we put back to the Miami to Pass 
 a T Outre. Directly after her coming to an anchor 
 in Black Lake Bay, and while yet aboard the Re 
 public, we were startled by a loud, rumbling ex 
 plosion. Looking in the direction of Fort St. Philip, 
 a dense volume of smoke was seen shooting up 
 hundreds of feet in the air, and spreading far and 
 wide over the horizon. At first we supposed the 
 fort itself had been blown up, but it proved to be 
 an immense floating battery, constructed by the 
 rebels of a floating dock, and heavily covered with 
 railroad iron. 
 
 Nothing more dreary could be imagined than 
 the view from a steamer s deck in the neighbor- 
 nood of the Passes. The mouths of the river strike 
 out from the main channel like the roots of a tree, 
 in all directions. Between each of the Passes is a 
 thin strip of morass covered with cane, grass and 
 weeds, but no timber. Among the dense lines of 
 green, rank vegetation, the alligator, the filthy 
 moccasin snake, and fierce, biting insects make 
 their homes. Wild fowls of various kinds flap 
 their wings over the wide, dismal waste. Ungainly 
 pelicans and screaming sea-gulls circled about the 
 vessels, the former making occasional plunges 
 into the water in pursuit of fish, and the latter 
 fighting and scrambling for scraps of meat and 
 such other garbage as was thrown overboard. 
 Miscellaneous collections of logs, stumps, pieces 
 
THE LATE WAR. 263 
 
 of wrecks and entire trees some of them perhaps 
 from the head waters of the Missouri lodged on 
 the bars or imbedded themselves in the loose, 
 spongy mud of the swamps. Altogether, the scene 
 was such that even the most mercurial temperament 
 must be saddened and depressed by it. Above, 
 the forts and plantations began to appear, and the 
 scene changed, as if by magic, from utter desola 
 tion to one of exquisite beauty. Highly-cultivated 
 sugar farms were seen on either side ; the fresh 
 green rows of the young cane extended in parallel 
 lines back to the swamp, and reminded one forci 
 bly of a vast Western corn-field in June. Neat 
 rows of wooden houses afforded shelter to the 
 black bone and muscle we saw toiling in the cane, 
 and gave to the plantation a village-like appear 
 ance. The planters residences were perfect models 
 of quaintness in architecture and beauty of sur 
 roundings. Embowered in a dense growth of 
 flowers and shrubbery, from the midst of which the 
 magnolia glorious with the richness of its deep- 
 green shining leaves and the unapproachable beauty 
 of its large white flowers sent forth its grateful 
 fragrance. They looked peculiarly inviting, espe 
 cially to us poor fellows, whose latest recollections 
 were of the Sahara-like barrenness of Ship Island, 
 and the horrid seventeen days of misery, crammed 
 up without room to turn about or lie down, be 
 tween the loathsome, fetid decks of a dirty trans 
 port. 
 
 Just above the light-house in Pass a 1 Outre, was 
 a little settlement of frame houses, built on piles 
 
264 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 and called Alligator Town. It was formerly pop 
 ulated by a colony of bar pilots, but was nearly 
 deserted. There we anchored for the purpose of 
 receiving a mail from the Rhode Island, just with 
 out the bar, and on her way to the Southwest 
 Pass. The American flag was flying over one of 
 the houses, on the piazza of which we discovered 
 a live woman, some darkies, and several children, 
 with a weather-beaten Dutchman or Spaniard in 
 the fore-ground, who, on discovering our ap 
 proach, removed a dilapidated hat from his head 
 and caused it to describe a series of circles in the 
 air, accompanying the movement with husky roars, 
 a vigorous fancy dance, and other demonstrations 
 of joy. On passing the forts, we were all on the 
 lookout for evidence of the hot work which had 
 been going on there, but from the river both Forts 
 Jackson and Philip appeared to be little damaged. 
 Looking at the position of the two forts, the fact 
 that our fleet was enabled to run the gauntlet of 
 their terrible fire with so little injury, seemed to be 
 almost miraculous. We stopped at the quarantine 
 for coal. There we found two hundred and fifty 
 rebel prisoners, taken by the Twenty-sixth Massa 
 chusetts in the rear of St. Philip, while attempt 
 ing to escape. They were a motley, hard-favored 
 set (mostly foreigners), some of them uniformed in 
 the coarse cotton goods used throughout the South 
 for clothing negroes, called osnaburgs, and all 
 wearing shirts made of bright colored Bay State 
 shawls, worn with the fringed tails outside of the 
 pants. These variegated shirts, with their bright 
 
THE LATE WAR. 265 
 
 red and green colors, gave the crest-fallen rebs 
 quite a gay and festive appearance. The greatest 
 part of the batch told the same old story, so con 
 venient for rebels in reduced circumstances. They 
 had been " pressed," or driven to the service by pe 
 cuniary embarrassment, and the gnawings of hun 
 ger. All but two of them took the oath of alle 
 giance and were released. Some half a dozen or 
 more enlisted in our regiment. Just above the quar 
 antine, with her smoke-stack and masts sticking 
 out of the water, lay the wreck of the gunboat 
 Verona the handsomest and fastest gunboat in 
 the service, which was sunk by the ram Manassas. 
 In the vicinity of Jackson s old battle-ground, we 
 passed a formidable series of land and water de 
 fenses, comprising a system of earth-works on 
 the left bank, extending clear back to the swamp, 
 which would have seriously embarrassed the ap 
 proach of a land force. Our gallant navy, how 
 ever, made short work of them, and the evidences 
 of a brisk business, while it lasted, were abundant. 
 The earth-works along the bank were literally torn 
 to pieces with shot and -shell, and a sugar-house 
 on the left bank was completely riddled, appar 
 ently from the fire of their own battery on the 
 other bank. 
 
 Passing the battle-ground, the spires and domes 
 of the Crescent City were plainly seen. A residence 
 of several years had rather attached me to New 
 Orleans, and it was not without a feeling akin to 
 sadness that I contemplated the abundant evidences 
 of distress caused by the blockade, which was- 
 
266 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 manifested on every hand as we steamed around 
 the lower horn. The appearance of the city was 
 gloomy in the extreme. I was there during the 
 fearful visitation of the yellow fever in 1853, and 
 not even then was it half so dismal. Of the vast 
 forests of masts, almost blocking up the river in 
 former times, not one was to be seen, unless, from 
 the deck of a war-ship or gunboat, bristling with 
 hostile guns. Not a single one of the great fleet 
 of up-river steamers, bearing the rich produce of 
 the great West to its natural outlet, then smoked 
 and puffed at the warf. The space allotted to 
 broad horns was also vacant. The wharves, 
 usually piled up with cotton, and corn, and sugar, 
 and miscellaneous merchandise, were perfectly 
 bare. No thundering drays, or furiously-driven 
 omnibusses were seen in the streets, and the busi 
 ness houses were closed. With exception of a 
 mixed throng of laborers, rowdies, darkies, women 
 and children, who crowded the wharves to see us 
 land, the city seemed to be utterly deserted 
 dreary, desolate, dismal, dead and d d. Not so 
 much as the ghost of its wonted greatness wan 
 dered among what were the haunts of busy trade, 
 to remind one of the New Orleans of former days. 
 Our blockade has been called " inefficient " by 
 the captious cavilers of the British press ; but in 
 efficient or not, the appearance of New Orleans at 
 that time bore ample testimony to the terrible 
 pressure to which her people had been subjected. 
 We tied up at the foot of Julia street, and lay there 
 several hours, but did not go ashore. A large crowd 
 
THE LATE WAR. 267 
 
 collected around the Miami to satisfy their curios 
 ity, by having a stare at the d d Yankees. We 
 were ordered to hold no communication with any 
 one on shore. Finally, we cast off from the wharf, 
 dropped down to the lower end of the city, crossed 
 over to Algiers, and took up quarters in the depot 
 of the New Orleans, Opelousas and Great Western 
 railroad. All the Algierines we had seen were as 
 virulent secessionists as their neighbors over the 
 way, though I had little doubt but there was some 
 Union feeling among them. The citizens of Al 
 giers depended, in former times, a great deal on 
 the dry docks for employment, and, in fact, the 
 building and repairing of vessels was the principal 
 business of the place. The destruction of these 
 docks, by order of Gen. Lovell, had, as I learned 
 from a little secesh paper, published here, called 
 the Newsboy^ caused a great deal of indignation 
 among them. They gathered around our quarters, 
 some looking crest-fallen, some sullen, and some 
 stolidly indifferent. The negroes, on the other 
 hand, all looked pleased. The idea was fully fixed 
 in their poor muddled brains that our mission was 
 to set them free. 
 
 General Williams was in command of Fort Jack 
 son, with the Twenty-sixth Massachusetts. We 
 hoped he had the "order of combat" there, and 
 kept it closely confined. The Ninth Connecticut, 
 Thirtieth and Thirty-first Massachusetts, Sixth 
 Michigan, Fourth Wisconsin, and other troops, 
 landed on the other side. Lying at the foot of 
 Julia street, while the saucy rebels were ringing the 
 
268 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 changes on Bull Run, the band suddenly struck 
 up "Picayune Butler s coming, coming." Seces- 
 sia did not relish the joke. Our dress parade in 
 Algiers was graced by the presence of some half a 
 dozen or more pale-faced daughters of the South, 
 with secession colors conspicuously displayed on 
 their bosoms. They did not appear to be so rabid 
 as the fair Baltimore rebels, and conducted them 
 selves becomingly. 
 
 The Dey of Algiers was a terrible fellow, but we 
 dreaded the night more. The mosquitoes, as well 
 as the chivalry, hungered and thirsted for the 
 blood of the "d d Yankees/ 
 
 The Mississippi was very high, and only a few 
 inches of soil intervened between safety and a dis 
 astrous overflow of Algiers. The Newsboy of the 
 twenty-fifth, with commendable philosophy, con 
 gratulated the citizens on the fact of there being 
 no steamers to lash the waters against the yielding 
 levees. Now, the Federal fleet had deprived them 
 of -even that cold comfort. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 WHILE we were comfortably quartered in the de 
 pot, we spent the time very profitably in cleaning up 
 in person, clothing, arms and accoutrements, scour 
 ing the neighboring country for arms and other prop 
 erty belonging to the Confederates, and, as far as 
 
THE LATE WAR. 269 
 
 possible, recovering from the horrible effects of that 
 sea voyage from Ship Island. When the fleet made 
 their appearance before the city, a great deal of 
 property was left on the field, by the Confederate 
 troops, in the general scamper which ensued. This 
 trumpery was hastily carted off and secreted on 
 the different plantations in the neighborhood ; but 
 through the energetic efforts of Lieutenant Colonel 
 Keith and other officers, much of it was recovered. 
 A large number of field-pieces, shot, shell and 
 small arms, hospital stores and bedding, flour and 
 other provisions, clothing, camp bedsteads, officers 
 swords, saddles, harness, canteens, knapsacks, 
 haversacks, etc., had accumulated on our hands. 
 In a large foundry in the village of Gretna, about 
 three miles from us, there were thousands of shot 
 and shell, several of the largest kind of unfinished 
 cannon, gun-stocks, etc. In this establishment the 
 manufacture of war munitions appeared to have 
 been extensively and skillfully carried on. Con 
 nected with the manufactory of iron articles was a 
 brass establishment for the manufacture of brass 
 cannon, mountings and plates. In the foundry we 
 found a large number of unfinished sword-bayo 
 nets, bearing evidence of skillful workmanship. 
 
 Within two miles of our encampment we found 
 a lot of beef cattle, which a Frenchman, named 
 Bonte, was pasturing for the Confederates. They 
 were not in the best possible order for butchering, 
 and I presume would scarcely be exposed for sale 
 by any respectable butcher in any city market, but 
 a long and irksome regimen of "salt horse" and 
 
27O THE LATE WAR. 
 
 rusty pork left us in a condition by no means fas 
 tidious, and the Confederate beef was eaten with a 
 relish. 
 
 Having taken possession, for the time being, of 
 the railroad, we kept its rolling stock tolerably 
 busy in transporting scouting parties to and from 
 different points on the road, manning the trains 
 with engineers, firemen, brakemen and conductors- 
 from our own ranks. 
 
 On a little island in the bayou, des Alemands, 
 about two hundred yards above the bridge, secre 
 ted in an abandoned dwelling, we made a good 
 haul of powder, fixed ammunition, saddles, artil 
 lery harness, and knapsacks, canteens, etc. Two- 
 brass six-pound field-pieces had been in position 
 on the island for the purpose of commanding the 
 bridge, but had been removed before our visit. A 
 rigid cross-examination of such of the white na 
 tives as we could pick up failed to elicit anything 
 as to the whereabouts of the missing guns, but a 
 little judicious inquiry among the colored popula 
 tion was more successful, and we found them in a 
 boat up a little creek, about half a mile from the 
 bayou. I may as well confess right here that what 
 ever success attended our scouting and foraging ex 
 peditions, was mainly due to the alacrity with which 
 the darkeys gave us information. They almost 
 universally showed themselves willing and anxious 
 to benefit us in every possible way. Occasionally, 
 however, one was found silly enough to believe all 
 they had latterly been told of us that we would 
 take them North, where there was snow all the year 
 
THE LATE WAR. 27 1 
 
 round, and make them work day and night in coal 
 mines, and lead mines, and other stuff of a like na 
 ture ; but the most of them believed that for them 
 the millennium had come, and even the most intel 
 ligent, who perfectly understood that the war was 
 not a war for the abolition of slavery, still believed 
 that their condition would, somehow or other, be 
 materially bettered by the triumph of the Federal 
 arms. 
 
 About this time I went on an expedition up the 
 country, which resulted in the capture of the 
 steamer Morning Light, in the Red river, a few 
 miles above the mouth. Col. McMillan went up 
 with a squad of fifty men, on the "Bee," an old 
 rickety, wheezing concern, built at Portsmouth, 
 Ohio, and a little larger than an ordinary chicken 
 coop. The Morning Light was a fine, large boat, 
 and one of the many which were hastily taken out 
 of New Orleans port on the approach of the fleet, 
 and had been ever since skulking about in the 
 numerous bayous and lakes in the western part of 
 the State. She had taken a cargo of sugar up 
 Bayou Macon, to change for cattle, and had just 
 returned to the island plantation owned by Mrs. 
 Turnbull, a few miles above the mouth of Red 
 river, as we came up. A large quantity of sugar 
 was still aboard. 
 
 Gen. Butler made a favorable impression upon 
 the well-disposed citizens of the town and country. 
 Whatever opinion may be entertained of his mili 
 tary qualifications, that he was master of his situa 
 tion was evident. In no particular was this fact 
 
THE LATE WAR. 
 
 more manifest than in his prompt and judicious 
 handling of the banks and money-sharks of the 
 city. His policy may have caused temporary dis 
 tress, but the financial bubble was so monstrously 
 swollen that it must soon have burst without inter 
 ference. The people of Louisiana had been the 
 victims of the most unheard of scoundrelism by the 
 leaders and abettors of that unholy war. Familiar 
 as we were with the villainy of shoddy contractors 
 in the North, their " operations " were but molehills 
 to the mountainous rascalities of Jew harpies of 
 the South. Duplicate and triplicate bank notes and 
 shinplasters had been circulated all over the coun 
 try. Even Confederate treasury notes had been 
 duplicated. It was no unusual thing to see gentle 
 men possessed of two Confederate notes of the 
 same number and denomination, made on the same 
 plate, and bearing the same signatures. Army of 
 ficers, army contractors, State officials, and money 
 dealers, all, apparently, conspired to plunder the 
 people. No city in the United States, of the same 
 business, had ever been so uniformly rich in coin 
 as New Orleans ; and yet, when we came here, 
 you might have hunted the city over without find 
 ing an ounce of specie. The hard money had 
 been absorbed by these sharks, with the intention 
 of making their escape from the country before the 
 crash. John Slidell, who counted his property in 
 that State by the million twelve months ago, it was 
 then said, did not own ten thousand dollars worth. 
 Probably a cosy chateau in France had already 
 been purchased, to afford the old villain a quiet 
 
THE LATE WAR. 273 
 
 resting place from the arduous labors of his scoun 
 drel life. 
 
 The trains to Berwick Bay had been allowed to 
 run, under charge of some of our officers, for the 
 purpose of bringing beef to the suffering citizens. 
 For some time the shipment of beef had been 
 nearly suspended by the intervention of an armed 
 banditti in the beef parishes, who refused to allow 
 any cattle to be shipped, although knowing they 
 were intended for the citizens of New Orleans. 
 The train from that place was taken possession of 
 by an armed band of marauders, several hundred 
 in number. Lieutenants Cox and Connelly, of our 
 regiment, and five Michigan soldiers, they held as 
 prisoners. They cut the levee thirteen miles above, 
 and a fearful crevasse inundated that part of the 
 country. The water was six feet deep over the 
 railroad track. After cutting the levee they re 
 treated with the train toward the bay, burning the 
 bridges over bayous Des Allemands, Lafourche 
 and Boeuf. An expedition, under Col. McMillan, 
 left to reach the bay by means of bayou Atchafa- 
 laya and its connections. 
 
 Some of the most desperate and bloody encoun 
 ters of the rebellion are either unknown to the his 
 torian, or are deemed unworthy of more than a 
 brief allusion. The newspapers were exceedingly 
 liberal at the beginning of the struggle, and chron 
 icled the battle of Romney, and the sanguinary 
 engagement at Phillippi, in voluminous columns of 
 eulogy. But as events crowded on each other, 
 such small affairs were passed over with a brief 
 18 
 
^74 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 mention, while it required a Shiloh or Gettysburg 
 to bring out the war eloquence in its full strength 
 and fervor. The fight at Lafourche Crossing, 
 Louisiana, where a small detachment of Union 
 forces, unable to run away, met the onslaught of a 
 larger number of rebels, flushed with a previous 
 victory and drunk with Louisiana rum, has passed 
 out of, or rather, never entered into, the history of 
 the war. Yet it was probably the best illustration of 
 desperate courage, on both sides, that the war af 
 forded, and was attended with greater carnage, in 
 proportion to the number of men engaged, than 
 any of the historic battles which shook the nation 
 to its center. At Lafourche the rebels charged re 
 peatedly in the face of batteries that belched con 
 tinuous volleys of canister, and many of them 
 were bayoneted at the very muzzles of the Union 
 guns. Charging a battery, in war literature, usu 
 ally means an advance by an attacking force, and 
 tthe retreat of the artillerists before the force come 
 within reach of the bayonet, or else the attacking 
 force turns tail after a sufficient taste of grape and 
 canister ; but at Lafourche the advance of the 
 rebels meant business, and many of them were 
 torn to pieces by discharges of canister, which 
 struck them within twelve feet of the muzzles, the 
 survivors being transfixed with the bayonet or 
 taken prisoner. 
 
 The capture of the Fox was one of the early 
 events of Butler s occupation of Louisiana, which 
 has not received sufficient notice at the hands of 
 Ihe historian. The Fox was one of the swiftest 
 
THE LATE WAR. 275 
 
 and sharpest of the blockade runners which eluded 
 the vigilance of our navy in that latitude, and she 
 made trips with almost the regularity of a packet 
 ship between Nassau and the Louisiana coast, 
 landing her cargoes in some secluded inlet, and 
 getting away before her presence was discovered. 
 The cruisers all knew the Fox, and had often 
 chased her without effect. Shortly after the occu 
 pation of Algiers by the Twenty-first Indiana, a 
 Union man brought intelligence to Col. McMillan 
 that a blockade runner had put into Grand Caillou, 
 which empties into the Gulf on the western coast. 
 The colonel reported the fact to Gen. Butler, and 
 asked permission to attempt her capture, which 
 was readily granted. Taking a small detachment 
 of men, the colonel started on the Berwick Bay 
 railroad, and arrived at Terre Bonne station a lit 
 tle after dark. From Terre Bonne the distance to 
 the mouth of Grand Caillou is between twenty and 
 twenty-five miles most too great to insure his get 
 ting there before daylight, if he traveled as in 
 fantry. He accordingly sent out squads of men 
 to the plantations adjacent to Terre Bonne, and 
 impressed mules and carts enough to transport his 
 men. Having obtained the necessary transporta 
 tion, the force set out for the objective point in a 
 brisk mule walk, occasionally enlivened by a trot. 
 The town of Houma a neat, handsome place of 
 perhaps a thousand inhabitants, bearing about it 
 the usual characteristics of the Louisiana French 
 village lay on the line of march. Not caring to 
 alarm the neighborhood, and thus send the news 
 
276 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 of his coming ahead of the detachment, the colo 
 nel enjoined the most rigorous silence on his men, 
 and the cavalcade passed through the silent and 
 deserted streets of the village with no other sound 
 than the trampling feet of the mules, and the creak 
 of a neglected cart-wheel, which wailed for the want 
 of grease. Not a light was to be seen not a night- 
 capped head was thrust from an upper window 
 not a dog barked and it was thought that the de 
 tachment had passed through without attracting 
 attention. Subsequent events, however, showed 
 this to have been a mistake. A belated bummer, 
 who had tumbled down in a fence corner to sleep 
 oft his potations, was awakened by the creaking 
 of the ungreased cart-wheel, and, with eyes bulg 
 ing from their sockets, took an inventory of the 
 ghostly cavalcade as it filed silently by in the un 
 certain light of a starless night. Next morning his 
 tale of armed men, with horses and cannon, steal 
 ing silently through the sacred streets of Houma, 
 was regarded by many as a drunken dream ; but 
 an arrival from Terre Bonne, detailing with many 
 exaggerations the impressment of mules and carts, 
 lent an air of reality to the drunkard s dream. 
 
 The passage through Houma having been success 
 fully accomplished, the detachment was ordered to 
 continue its march on quick time, and, stimulated 
 by the cart whip, the plantation mules developed a 
 speed which was gratifying as well as surprising. 
 The colonel was exceedingly anxious to arrive at 
 the mouth of Grand Caillou as soon as possible. 
 He knew that a horseman, mounted on a swift 
 
THE LATE WAR. 277 
 
 steed, could leave Terre Bonne an hour or so after 
 him, pass him on the road by making a detour, 
 and arrive at Grand Caillou in time to enable the 
 sly Fox to get up steam, and be far out on the 
 raging billow before his mule express could reach 
 there. He counted, however on the terror of the 
 people about Terre Bonne, a want of decision, and 
 a lack of information as the object of the expedi 
 tion. He accordingly spurred the jaded mules on 
 their way, while the hoarse bellow of the alligator 
 was heard from the neighboring swamps, and the 
 horned owl hooted a remonstrant greeting from 
 the roadside trees. The men, in total ignorance of 
 the object of the expedition, discussed in low whis 
 pers the various probabilities, and were all eager 
 as a pack of hounds to pounce on the quarry, 
 whatever it might be. 
 
 Time passed, and in the gray twilight of early 
 morning the detachment was halted, and a recon- 
 noitering force, under command of a sergeant, sent 
 out. Proceeding down the bayou, as the fog lifted, 
 the sergeant discovered the black, dingy-look 
 ing hull of the Fox, as she lay moored to the bank, 
 surrounded by boxes and bales of her partially dis 
 charged cargo. With the exception of a single 
 sentinel, pacing sleepily to and fro, and occasion 
 ally looking wistfully toward the east in anticipa 
 tion of sunrise, there was no sign of life about 
 the Fox. She was, in sooth, an innocent-looking 
 craft, and for all outward signs to the contrary, 
 might have been an asthmatic tug laying up for 
 repairs. Yet the operations of the next few mo- 
 
278 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 ments, successfuly conducted, would be worth as 
 much as the winning of a battle to the government. 
 The colonel divided his force, crossed half of 
 them to the other side of the bayou, and the two de 
 tachments, marching simultaneously, crept silently 
 along the banks of the black, sluggish stream to 
 ward their prey. The sentinel walked lazily to and 
 fro, yawning at intervals, and occasionally sitting 
 down on a bulk-head to ruminate. The two wings 
 of the attacking force approached nearer and 
 nearer. Finally the vigilant sentinel heard some 
 thing, looked up and saw something. His sleepy 
 eyes unclosed to their widest extent, but still he did 
 not appreciate the situation. He saw that armed 
 men were approaching, but he had not yet heard 
 of the fall of New Orleans, and he would as soon 
 have expected to meet the ghost of his great grand 
 father as Yankees in that secluded place. Finally 
 it dawned on him that there might be something 
 improper in allowing people to whom he had never 
 been introduced, approach in that way, and that he 
 had better demonstrate. He accordingly fired off 
 his musket threw it away, and rushed howling 
 into the cabin. The order was given to double 
 quick, and the two detachments closed around the 
 vessel. A walk-board had been conveniently left 
 on the side to which she was moored, and the force 
 on that side boarded in gallant style. All was con 
 fusion on the blockade runner. The engineer 
 plunged overboard from the stern, and swam to 
 the opposite shore, where a big corporal reached 
 down, caught him by the collar, and swung him 
 
THE LATE WAR. 279 
 
 dripping like a drowned rat, to dry land. The 
 captain, dressed in a cool, flowing costume of 
 snowy muslin, tumbled out of his berth with a 
 bright, new English revolver in his hand, but sur 
 rendered, as soon as the urgency of the case was 
 explained to him. The colored steward, his face 
 turned to an ashen hue, was down on his knees 
 praying fluently for mercy. The crew were pro 
 testing that they were Union at heart, but had been 
 impressed into the service. 
 
 Order was soon restored, however, and the Fox, 
 with her crew and cargo, passed from the Confed 
 erate States of America to the United thereof. 
 The captain and crew were paroled not to attempt 
 to escape. The engineer and pilot, however, were 
 deemed too valuable to take any risks in their cases. 
 Their parole was taken, but at the same time the 
 colonel deemed it advisable to keep them under 
 strict surveillance, to frustrate any attempt at 
 "lighting out." 
 
 About half the Fox s cargo had been discharged 
 and hauled away. Colonel McMillan, however, 
 was in no hurry. He ascertained where it had 
 been stored, and had it hauled back again and re 
 loaded. In a day or two the Fox was again ready 
 for sea. There being no custom-house formalities 
 to undergo, she steamed out of the mouth of the 
 black, sluggish bayou, and bore away for New 
 Orleans. The colonel s nautical education had 
 been neglected. He had breasted the billowy 
 waves of the Wabash as skipper of a flatboat, and 
 was every inch a sailor on the "walk-board," with 
 
280 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 the end of the steering oar under his arm ; but 
 when it came to the use of the sextant, and work 
 ing out a "dead reckoning" by lunar or solar ob 
 servations, he was all at sea. So he was com 
 pelled to trust to the officers of the Fox. It was 
 explained to them, however, that their treatment 
 depended very much on their behavior. If they 
 took the ship safely over the bar at the mouth of 
 the Mississippi, they would be considered jolly 
 good fellows ; if, on the contrary, they attempted 
 any of their tricks on landsmen, the moment their 
 treachery was discovered, there would be immedi 
 ate incision and imbruing. With this understand 
 ing, the best of relations were established between 
 the captured and the captors. Among the stores 
 of the Fox were sundry boxes of choice wines and 
 fragrant Havanas, and a generous stock of fresh 
 provisions had been laid in before leaving Grand 
 Caillou. The voyage was a pleasant one to all, 
 and the ship, with a cargo worth half a million of 
 dollars, was turned over to the authorities at New 
 Orleans, minus drinkage, smokage, a little steal- 
 age and a number of souvenirs distributed among 
 " the boys" as mementoes of their first great naval 
 victory. 
 
 An interesting incident of the voyage was the 
 recapture of the Fox by a Government cruiser. 
 The blue jackets had never been able to pick up 
 the sly varmint while she belonged to the Confed 
 eracy, but they gobbled her on her way to New 
 Orleans, within three days of her change of own 
 ership. One night a cruiser ran down across her 
 
THE LATE WAR. 28 1 
 
 bows and showed signals. Col. McMillan, not 
 knowing what signals to show in reply, kept stead 
 ily on his course. The next moment there was the 
 flash of a gun, and a thirty-two pound shot 
 whistled close to the Fox s chimneys. The engine 
 was stopped immediately, and the Fox lay tossing 
 lightly on the gentle swell of the waves, while a 
 boat from the cruiser approached. A clean, natty 
 little lieutenant climbed up the vessel s side and 
 made his w r ay to the cabin. " Who is in command 
 of this vessel? " he inquired. 
 
 He was directed to the colonel, who had but 
 toned his coat over his portly person, and with 
 .sword and sash on, was prepared to receive com 
 pany. 
 
 " I ll trouble you for your sword," said the lieu 
 tenant, politely. 
 
 " Oh no. I hardly think that will be necessary," 
 replied the colonel. 
 
 " Why not? " suggested the naval hero. 
 
 66 1 am a Federal officer," replied the colonel, 
 " and this vessel is my prize." The lieutenant 
 took a rapid inventory of the colonel s appearance, 
 took in the gilt buttons, the red sash, and dwelt on 
 the texture of his cloth. He then inquired, in a 
 .somewhat bewildered manner : 
 
 " What navy do you belong to?" 
 
 The colonel smiled audibly, and explained that 
 he was only in the navy -pro tem. that he was col 
 onel of the Twenty-first Indiana volunteers, but, 
 seeing an opportunity of doing a good thing, he 
 
282 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 thought he might as well take it in, notwithstand 
 ing it was out of his line. 
 
 The lieutenant was evidently chagrined to think 
 that the coveted prize which had so often slipped 
 through the fingers of the blockading fleet, had at 
 last fallen into the hands of a land lubber, but he 
 was too much of a gentleman not to congratulate 
 the colonel on his luck and pluck, and after taking 
 a glass of wine and a cigar, he got into his little 
 boat and left, wishing the Fox a prosperous voyage. 
 
 If Colonel McMillan had belonged to the navy y 
 instead of the army, the capture of the Fox would 
 have netted himself something handsome in the 
 way of prize money. As it was, he got nothing 
 but glory, and not much of that. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 BENEATH an enormous magnolia, almost smoth 
 ered with climbing vines, about one mile from 
 Baton Rouge, I found myself early in June. Our 
 location was a beautiful one, and if the romance 
 had not been so effectually thumped and bumped 
 out of me, by twelve months of soldiering, I might 
 have been in raptures over our surroundings. We 
 had noble old sweet gums and magnolias, with the 
 blue canopy of heaven to sleep under, and natural 
 arbors of wild vines to keep oft the dews. The 
 glorious moonlight sifted, and "dropped and lifted,"" 
 
THE LATE WAR. 283 
 
 and the tremulous wooing of the gentle south 
 wind " soothed us night and day, but there were 
 collateral incidents and accidents of the situation 
 that detracted sorely from its romance. The mock 
 ing-bird, and other feathered songsters, twittered 
 and warbled among the branches, and bright-col 
 ored finches flashed in and out of the green clus 
 ters, but the trail of the lizard was over all. Green 
 and ghastly to the eye ; cold, slimy, and snaky to 
 the touch, they chased each other recklessly up 
 and down the trunks, laid in a half torpid state of 
 flatness, or hung stupidly by their heel, with their 
 throats puffed out, looking like soap-bubbles, emit 
 ting a shrill, piping, foggy sort of a whistle. And 
 these exasperating little reptiles were always drop 
 ping. You could not lie down for a brief after- 
 dinner nap, but the first lizard that discovered you 
 made it a point to drop. If he happened to 
 miss his aim, he took you on his way back, and 
 either crawled up your leg or slid rapidly over 
 your face, and up the trunk. Beside lizards, we 
 had ticks reed ticks and wood ticks, and dog 
 ticks, antics, critics, and tic doloreux. However 
 much our suttler might feel disposed to discour 
 age a credit business, no obtrusive placard of " No 
 tick here," could be found anywhere in camp. 
 And then the bugs ; there were round bugs, and 
 flat bugs, and oblong bugs, and spiral bugs hum 
 bugs and bugaboos bugs emitting a deadly stench 
 when, as invariably happened, they procured them 
 selves to be crushed. 
 
 We came to that camp on the ist of June. Gen- 
 
284 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 eral Williams (God bless that remarkable old brick) 
 had been seriously annoyed by a band of about one 
 hundred mounted guerrillas, and having but three 
 regiments and two batteries with him, sent for the 
 Twenty-first Indiana, Thirtieth Massachusetts and 
 Ninth Connecticut, to come up and help him clean 
 them out, according "to the order of combat. 1 I 
 am inclined to look upon the order compelling us 
 to go there as a judgment of Providence upon our 
 pride. We had not seen our beloved brigadier for 
 a long time. We had been well treated at Algiers, 
 were doing the government some service, had al 
 most forgotten the "order of combat," and began 
 to entertain some respect for the service and for 
 ourselves. In short, we began to " feel our oats," 
 ,and the righteous judgment of Heaven overtook us. 
 
 Upon arriving at Baton Rouge, according to pre 
 cedent, we were obliged to remain on ship-board 
 until the Nutmeg regiment was quartered. We 
 sent up to the general s quarters to ask permission 
 for a detachment to go on shore and cook for the 
 regiment, there being no facilities on board. The 
 amiable chieftain informed us that no one would 
 be allowed to go on shore. Going ashore to cook 
 meant going ashore to steal. The Western regi 
 ments in his command had done nothing but pil 
 lage since they had been in the service. He had 
 no confidence in them. They did not come up to 
 the standard. 
 
 It would require more time and patience than I 
 have at hand, to express the utter detestation 
 oi that man by the Western men under his com- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 285 
 
 mand. From the first day of his connection with 
 us, he had done nothing but insult, libel and op 
 press the three Western regiments that had had 
 the misfortune to be placed under him, resorting 
 to petty annoyances, of which even our eighth 
 corporal would be ashamed, to render our position 
 uncomfortable. His policy seemed to be that of 
 treating everybody well except the soldiers of his 
 command. As to the charge of pillaging, there 
 had been but little foundation for it in any of the 
 regiments under his command, and less among the 
 Western regiments than any other. 
 
 Colonel McMillan, of the Twenty-first Indiana,, 
 was severely, though not dangerously, wounded. 
 He went at night ten or twelve miles into the in 
 terior, with a detachment of four hundred men, to 
 prevent the burning of some cotton, and to try and 
 bag a few of the mounted marauders who ranged 
 between our place and Camp Moore. The Colo 
 nel, Major Hayes, Adjutant Latham, and one or 
 two others being mounted, rode ahead of the de 
 tachment, and surrounded the house of an old man 
 named Roberts, known as the headquarters of a 
 guerrilla band. There were five guerrillas inside, 
 armed with double-barreled shot-guns. As the col 
 onel rode up, old man Roberts and his two sons 
 came to the door and fired five shots at him. One 
 of the young Roberts fired first, when Colonel Mc 
 Millan drew a pistol and shot him through the 
 head, killing him instantly. 
 
 The old man, after discharging both barrels of 
 his gun, attempted to escape through a back door, 
 
286 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 but was fired at by Major Hayes, when he fell flat 
 on his face and lay perfectly still until secured. 
 Col. McMillan was struck five times two balls 
 entered his left hand between the knuckles, and 
 passed through ; one penetrated the arm above the 
 wrist, ranged upward toward the elbow and lodged 
 between the bones ; one struck in the left breast, 
 just over the heart ; and the other in the side. The 
 shot in the breast spent its force in the clothing 
 and wadding, and did not penetrate ; the wound 
 in the side had an ugly look, but on examination 
 proved to be not so serious, the ball having ranged 
 backward without penetrating the cavity. The 
 colonel s horse received six buckshot in his neck. 
 After being wounded, the colonel rode about three 
 miles on horseback, when a carriage was pro- 
 cured, and he was conveyed to town, impatient of 
 the prospect of being laid up for a time. He said 
 he would not have minded being touched a little 
 in battle with a soldier s weapon, but hated to be 
 picked off like a jack-rabbit, with a shot gun. 
 
 The expedition brought in over one hundred 
 bales of cotton, which were piled up in the woods, 
 waiting to be burned. They found, also, a great 
 deal already burning. 
 
 Of the pieces captured by our regiment near 
 Algiers, at Bayou des Allemands, and at other 
 points, a battery of flying artillery was organized, 
 to be permanently attached to the regiment, under 
 the command of Lieut. James M. Brown, of Bed 
 ford, Ind. The battery was thoroughly equipped 
 
THE LATE WAR. 287 
 
 with confiscated mules, and manned entirely from 
 our own regiment. 
 
 In times of peace the South was governed pretty 
 much as the North, by its politicians and moneyed 
 men, but it was a mistake to suppose that in war 
 time, the planters, the bankers, and the merchants 
 were mainstays of the rebellion. In the excite 
 ment of the revolution, the puppets changed places 
 with their masters, and the South was then gov 
 erned by a mob. Mechanics, laborers, jack-leg- 
 lawyers and quack doctors, livery stable-keepers, 
 whisky-sellers, gamblers, and "poor white trash," 
 were the bitterest and most uncompromising rebels. 
 If there was any Union feeling in the South any 
 lingering regrets for the glory of the old flag, and 
 the good old times of peace and plenty it was 
 to be found among the planters and merchants. 
 Many of the planters and moneyed men would 
 have been content with anything even gradual 
 emancipation to insure peace and security ; but 
 they lived in constant dread of guerrilla venge 
 ance, while at the same time they were threatened 
 with Federal confiscation. The less a man had at 
 -stake, the longer he held out. 
 
 That which was most trying to a man s patience 
 was the senseless babble about Northern amalga 
 mation and negro equality. There did not exist 
 on the face of the earth a community where open, 
 shameless amalgamation was practiced to a greater 
 extent than in the Cotton States. There was not a 
 plantation in the South but bore witness to the 
 truth of this charge. The son of the planter, if at 
 
288 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 all curious upon the subject of relationship, could 
 generally find half-brothers and sisters among his 
 father s chattels ; and by the time the "young mas 
 ter" attained his twentieth year he was pretty sure to 
 have contributed something towards the universal 
 bleaching out of the ultra-Ethiopian features from 
 the faces of the next generation of slaves. Bachelor 
 planters lived openly with black and parti-colored 
 paramours, in defiance of public opinion, if there 
 was any public opinion to defy. If married, it was 
 the same thing, only, in deference to the unreason 
 able scruples of his white wife, the concubine was 
 sometimes kept out of the house, and supported in a 
 state of almost regal splendor at another plantation. 
 Merchant princes, law-givers, statesmen, and the 
 high dignitaries of the land had their little weak 
 nesses in the same direction. The most alarming 
 features in this state of affairs was the countenance it 
 received from society. There was no outcry, but all 
 was taken as a matter of course. The press and 
 the pulpit ignored the facts, however notorious ; 
 and the courts were never troubled with divorce 
 cases in consequence. In the North, if a man 
 lived openly with a black woman, no respectable 
 white woman would look at him, much less speak 
 to him ; but in the South, a young blood would 
 come from the embraces of a saddle-colored mis 
 tress to the parlor or ball-room, and was received 
 with smiles by the elite of Southern society. 
 
 There existed throughout the South, more par 
 ticularly in Louisiana, a class of people known as 
 Creoles. The word Creole, comes from the Spanish 
 
THE LATE WAR. 289 
 
 crotts a native and is properly applied to the na 
 tive-born "foreign" population. For instance, a 
 child born of French parents in Louisiana, will be 
 a Creole Frenchman. If the parents were Spanish, 
 a Creole Spaniard, etc. It was also applied to na 
 tive articles of produce, as Creole butter, Creole 
 eggs, Creole hay, etc. But in the North a Creole 
 was generally understood to be a person of mixed 
 blood. This was not so far out of the .way, as 
 matters stood, for every mongrel negro, who man 
 aged to get hold of money or property, called him 
 self or herself a Creole, and society, ever complai 
 sant and charitable when humbug is backed by 
 brass and gold, winked at the deception which de 
 ceived nobody, and the negro chrysalis straight 
 way became a Creole butterfly. Many of the early 
 Spanish settlers, their own "blue-blood" of Cas 
 tile, impoverished by the admixture of the viler 
 Morisco current, amalgamated with their slaves. 
 The law of Louisiana did not recognize such a 
 thing as an " illegitimate child," and the Spanish 
 planter, dying intestate, the fruits of his black 
 amours a mixture of Spanish, Moorish, and negro 
 blood came in for a full share of the estate, and 
 they and their children became Creoles. A planter 
 lives for years with a mulatto or a quadroon, and, 
 on dying, bequeaths to her free papers and a hand 
 some fortune. She ceases to be a negro, and grad 
 ually becomes a Creole. These Creoles, by grace, 
 as all mongrel races are, are cruel, cowardly and 
 treacherous, and when owning slaves themselves, 
 are the most inhuman masters or mistresses. No 
 19 
 
290 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 conception of avarice and meanness could be 
 formed until a sugar or cotton plantation, owned 
 by one of these spurious Creoles, had been visited. 
 
 The real Creole is a different creature. He is 
 gay, gallant, avaricious, and shrewd in driving a 
 bargain, neat arid cleanly in personal appearance 
 brave for the time, but incapable of the heroism 
 oi endurance sociable, when it costs him noth 
 ing making a great show of hospitality and prac 
 ticing little knowing little, and caring less for 
 public affairs a rebel or loyal citizen, just as in 
 terest dictated holding allegiance first to France, 
 next to the State, and not caring a cent either for 
 the United States or Confederate States. He is a 
 Creole nothing more. A Creole can live upon less, 
 .and make a better show than anybody else. He 
 can get the better of a Yankee clock peddler in a 
 trade, and teach a Wethersfield onion-raiser prac 
 tical lessons in economy. 
 
 Southern bravery has been greatly overrated, 
 even in the North. The men of the South those 
 whose blood has not been tainted with Moor, In 
 dian, or negro faced death as readily as those of 
 the North, but they had not the same power of en 
 durance. They cried constantly, "You can never 
 subdue us," and yet I never saw a people so easily 
 subdued. Put one of them in a tight place, and 
 all manliness forsakes him. It is true the South 
 has been the theater of many desperate deeds, but 
 these usually took the form of cold-blooded as 
 sassinations. A Southern "gentleman," whose 
 wealth and position stand between him and the 
 
THE LATE WAR. 29! 
 
 law, is wronged, or thinks he is wronged, by an 
 other, not his equal in standing. He coldly calcu 
 lates his chances, and if he can make out a good 
 case, decides on " satisfaction." With nine buck 
 shot in each barrel of his heavy deer-gun, a brace 
 of derringers in his pocket, and a bowie-knife 
 buckled around his waist, he meets his victim, per 
 haps unarmed and suspecting nothing. He cries, 
 "Defend yourself," and immediately discharges 
 both barrels, in quick succession, into the body of 
 his adversary. By telling the victim to defend 
 "himself," even though he might be unarmed, 
 and the roar of the shot-gun blends with the last 
 word of the sentence, the affair is divested of the 
 character of assassination, and rendered perfectly 
 honorable in Southern eyes. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 BATON ROUGE is one of the prettiest places in the 
 South. It contained three or four or five thousand 
 inhabitants. The streets were pleasantly shaded 
 with live oak, box and China trees, and the gar 
 dens were tastefully decorated with flowers and 
 flowering shrubs. The capitol, on the bank of the 
 river, a fine-looking, showy building, but like a 
 great many other Southern institutions, on close in 
 spection, proved to be a sham. The grounds were 
 elegant and well kept. The city boasted of bar- 
 
292 THE I. ATE WAR. 
 
 racks and arsenals, built by the United States, a 
 fine-looking college of some sort, and a peniten 
 tiary, which was not as well patronized as it ought 
 to have been. The morals of Baton Rouge were 
 particularly rigid in outward appearance, but prob 
 ably about as lax beneath the surface as those of 
 Washington. 
 
 General Williams went up the river, taking with 
 him all the troops except the Twenty-first Indiana 
 and Sixth Michigan, and left Colonel McMillan in 
 command of the post. 
 
 Towards the middle of July, Colonel Keith, with 
 
 detachment of forty mounted men, penetrated 
 ome thirty miles into the enemy s country, smoked 
 out a guerilla camp of eighty or an hundred men, 
 surprised them and captured all their equipage, 
 horses, and killed a number in the affair. Return 
 ing at night, Colonel Keith s party were them 
 selves waylaid at a bridge over the Amite river ; 
 lost two soldiers and a negro guide, while a num 
 ber of others were wounded. 
 
 Cassell, the leader of the guerillas in that part 
 of the State, was captured, together with two of his 
 officers. From a friendly contraband, some of our 
 troops learned that the guerilla chief was in the 
 habit of visiting his plantation near the city, and 
 by concealing themselves about the place, his cap 
 ture was effected. He was forwarded to New Or 
 leans to be dealt with by General Butler. If ever a 
 scoundrel deserved hanging, it was this man, Cas 
 sell. He brought great trouble on the people of 
 this place (Baton Rouge.) When the Federal 
 
THE LATE WAR. 293 
 
 fleet made its appearance in front of the city, and 
 a boat was sent ashore to treat for its surrender, 
 Cassell, at the head of a body of mounted ma 
 rauders, galloped down to the water s edge and 
 fired on the boat, killing some and wounding 
 others. This, of course, drew the fire of the gun 
 boats on the city, and broadside after broadside 
 was fired up the streets, into the principal build 
 ings and away over the town into the woods, 
 among the crowds of flying citizens. 
 
 Cassell had given no notice of his intention to 
 provoke hostilities, and the town was full of non- 
 combatant citizens, women and children. A ter 
 rible panic ensued. The halt, the lame, the blind, 
 frail women and children, and half-frantic negroes, 
 joined in a hurried flight to the woods. Some died 
 in the streets of pure fright, and children were 
 prematurely born in the adjoining fields, amid the 
 roar of artillery and the bursting of shells. Ne 
 groes at work in cane or corn-fields two or three 
 miles back of town, were startled by the dropping 
 of the hissing globes among them, and fled in dis 
 may, firmly believing the end of the world was at 
 hand. For days, little children, separated from 
 their parents, roamed through the woods, half- 
 starved, nearly eaten up by mosquitoes, and frantic 
 with terror. For all this, Cassell was responsible, 
 and richly deserved to be hung. 
 
 Notwithstanding the stringent orders against 
 harboring contrabands, quite a number wormed 
 themselves into our camp, and were employed as 
 cooks and servants. Some of them gave us val 
 
294 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 uable information, and it would not only have been 
 cruel, but ungrateful to have turned them over to 
 the tender mercies of the rebels. 
 
 There was a great deal more cotton in the coun 
 try than was at first supposed. Much was burned, 
 but large quantities, stowed away in secret places 
 by the owners, came to light. 
 
 Gen. somebody or other, I forget who, 
 
 was reported, on good authority, as advancing on 
 Baton Rouge, with a mongrel horde of from five to 
 seven thousand men. Col. McMillan had a force 
 of seven hundred contrabands felling trees on the 
 spot of wooded ground southwest of the peniten 
 tiary, and thus prepared for the reception of our 
 distinguished visitor. 
 
 There had been a cry of " wolf, wolf," until the 
 belief among our boys was pretty general that the 
 wolf was only a sheep, and a very shabby one at 
 that. But by the time we had gotten through with 
 him, we had come to the conclusion that he was a 
 " right smart " wolf after all. The enemy came 
 in from the direction of Camp Moore, on the morn 
 ing of the 5th of August, 1862, and encountered 
 our pickets a mile out on the Greenville Springs 
 road, about three o clock a. m. There they halted 
 and made their dispositions for the attack. Just at 
 daylight they advanced in three divisions, one by 
 the Bayou Sara road, one by the Greenville Springs 
 road, and one by the Perkins, or Claggut road. 
 The attack was planned with skill, and carried out 
 with great spirit, the rebel regiments charging with 
 shouts and cheers right up to our batteries. On 
 
THE LATE WAR. 295 
 
 our side the Twenty-first Indiana, the Sixth Mich 
 igan, and the Thirtieth Massachusetts, did the 
 lighting. The Fourteenth Maine broke and ran at 
 the first fire, and never re-formed. A few of their 
 number fell in with our regiment, and fought well. 
 
 The Fourth Wisconsin and Ninth Connecticut 
 were not under fire. The Seventh Vermont did 
 excellent service for the enemv, in the way of fir 
 ing into our regiment from the rear, by which we 
 lost a number of men. Manning s battery, Ever 
 ett s battery, Nim s battery, and our own mule 
 battery, did excellent service. So much by way 
 of a summary. 
 
 Our regiment was stationed in the center, about 
 a mile from town, on the Greenville Springs road, 
 with the Fourteenth Maine on our left, and the 
 Sixth Michigan on our right. When it became 
 evident that an attack was imminent, our regi 
 ment, Lieut. Col. John A. Keith in command, was 
 marched out on the Greenville Springs road about 
 six hundred yards, and took up position behind a 
 rail fence, thickly covered with a growth of Cher 
 okee rose, enclosing a corn-field on the right of 
 the road, with an open field and the cemetery in 
 the rear. The whole surface of the country was 
 covered with a dense fog, through which it was 
 impossible to observe anything at the distance of a 
 few rods. We had taken position behind the fence 
 but a few moments, when a rebel force was heard 
 advancing on our right, having marched across 
 from the Claggut road. In the meantime a rebel 
 force had stealthily approached through the corn- 
 
296 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 field in our front, and were in the act of crossing- 
 
 & 
 
 the fence not fifteen paces in front, when we gave 
 them a deadly volley, which had the effect of driv 
 ing them back in confusion, leaving the field cov 
 ered with their dead and wounded. At the same 
 time we were fired into from the right flank, and 
 the sound of heavy and continuous firing on our 
 left, in the direction of the Bayou Sara road, indi 
 cated that we were in danger of being flanked 
 there. Col. Keith ordered the regiment to fall 
 back, which it did, and again formed in line of 
 battle in the rear of the cemetery, the men lying 
 flat upon their faces. At this time a portion of the 
 Michigan Sixth, which had abandoned their posi 
 tion on the Claggut road, came up and formed on 
 our right. At this point I first saw Gen. Williams, 
 who rode along the line, exhorting the men to 
 stand firm and do their duty. 
 
 The enemy, advancing through the grave-yard T 
 delivered a volley which passed over us. We then 
 rose from the ground and fired with deadly effect. 
 At the same time, the Michigan men became en 
 gaged on our right, and did excellent service ; but 
 the force on our right, engaged in the flanking 
 movement, was too heavy, and, by an oblique fire, 
 again caused a retrograde movement. By this ob 
 lique fire, Lieutenant Charles D. Seely, of Com 
 pany A, was killed. He was a brave and gallant 
 officer, and was shot through the heart while at the 
 head of his company. He fell forward on his face, 
 and at the same moment, his orderly sergeant,. 
 
THE LATE WAR. 29^ 
 
 John A. Bevington,was shot through the head and 
 fell across his feet. 
 
 Retreating through our camp in column of com 
 panies, the left in front, we again formed in line 
 along the street at the upper end of the camp, 
 when a regiment was seen advancing in column at. 
 double quick, considerably in advance of us, on 
 the right, along the opposite street. Through the 
 dust and fog, we could not distinguish them, and 
 Colonel Keith rode half way across the space be 
 tween and hailed "What troops are those?" 
 " Secesh as h 11," was the answer, followed by a 
 volley from our regiment which left the road piled 
 with their dead. A volley from at least two thou 
 sand pieces was then fired upon us from the rear, the 
 part of which, fortunately, passed over our heads. 
 We then retreated down the street under a heavy 
 fire, counter-marched and came up the next street, 
 and formed in line on our parade grounds, where 
 the heaviest fighting took place. During this re 
 treat, we were fired into by the Seventh Vermont. 
 
 The enemy, in the meantime, had taken posses 
 sion of our camp, and burned the tents about half 
 way up the line. Two regiments were drawn up 
 to oppose us in the woods between our camp and 
 the parade ground, while on our left flank a com 
 pany of sharpshooters, armed with Colt s revolving 
 rifles, were picking off our officers. After the in 
 terchange of several volleys, by a brilliant charge, 
 assisted by a portion of the Thirtieth Massachu 
 setts, which came opportunely to our aid, our regi 
 ment drove the enemy pell-mell through the woods 
 
THE LATE WAR. 
 
 and entirely out of our camp, saving just half of it 
 from pillage and burning. In this last contest, 
 Gen. Williams and M. A. Latham, our adjutant, 
 were killed, and Col. Keith severely wounded. 
 
 Write nothing but good of the dead. I have 
 nothing to retract that I have written of Gen. Wil 
 liams, except such charges as impugn his courage. 
 He was as brave a man as ever lived, and died 
 cheering us on to victory. Just before he received 
 the fatal shot, he apologized to Col. Keith for his 
 treatment of our regiment, and paid it the highest 
 compliment for bravery and coolness in action. 
 But Gen. Williams lacked the qualifications of a 
 commander. 
 
 "The noblest Roman of them all," Matthew A. 
 Latham, of Cincinnati, was the beau ideal of a sol 
 dier, and a man without the slightest conception of 
 fear. There was scarcely a brigadier general in 
 the army possessing the qualifications of this man, 
 filling the humble position of adjutant. He fell 
 from his horse, pierced with four balls in his body, 
 and a grape shot, which struck him just under his 
 nose, passing entirely through, and making a hor 
 rible wound. And yet, with all these wounds, he 
 rose from the ground and walked twenty or thirty 
 paces, until death overcame him, and his gallant 
 spirit took its flight. He was a man of fine social 
 instincts, and shrewd, common sense, as well as 
 military qualifications. A strict disciplinarian, and 
 a terror to all violators of military law ; he still en 
 joyed the universal confidence and esteem of both 
 officers and men. God keep the memory of this 
 
THE LATE WAR. 299 
 
 gallant, warm-hearted Irishman forever green in 
 our hearts ! 
 
 Another gallant soldier and noble officer, Major 
 Hays, was wounded severely early in the action, 
 and had to be carried from the field. 
 
 Colonel McMillan, not having recovered from 
 his wounds, was unable to take command. He 
 rode out on the field, but was compelled, through 
 .sheer exhaustion, to return. 
 
 Colonel Keith manifested the utmost bravery and 
 coolness until wounded. He was wounded se 
 verely in the shoulder and slightly on the chin. 
 
 After Colonel Keith and Major Hays were 
 wounded, Captain Roy being sick, the command 
 of the regiment devolved on Captain James Grims- 
 ley. The captain was as brave as a lion, and as 
 cool as a cucumber. Although wounded himself, 
 after having the wound dressed, he took command 
 of the regiment. 
 
 O 
 
 The different batteries of artillery, our own mule 
 battery among the number, did excellent service. 
 They poured in destructive charges of canister and 
 grape at ranges in distances less than thirty yards. 
 Many of the men supporting the batteries were 
 wounded with buckshot. . 
 
 From wounded prisoners I learned that the force 
 of the enemy consisted of twelve regiments, num 
 bering from five to seven thousand, under the com 
 mand of Breckinridge, Clarke and Ruggles. They 
 w r ere Kentuckians, Mississippians and Louisian- 
 ians, the most of them armed with Springfield and 
 
3O THE LATE WAR. 
 
 Enfield rifles. They expected assistance from the 
 ram Arkansas, afterwards sunk by the Essex. 
 
 Our regiment went into action less than five hun 
 dred strong, and lost in killed and wounded 126 
 26 killed, 98 wounded and four missing. This was 
 pretty heavy for a two-hours engagement, and I 
 think much heavier than any other regiment en 
 gaged. The loss of the enemy was generally put 
 down as three times as great as our own, though I 
 think that statement a little exaggerated. 
 
 The regiments opposed to us were all veterans, 
 who had fought at Shiloh and other battle-fields. 
 They frequently exchanged volleys with us at a 
 distance of thirty paces. 
 
 The gunboats could do but little in "the fight on 
 the 5th. The battle-field was so far from the river 
 they could not fire without danger of doing more 
 harm than good. But when the enemy were driven 
 back, the gunboats threw shells over the town into 
 their midst. A sentinel on one of the State house 
 turrets, with a glass, signalled to the boats the di 
 rection, distance and range of the enemy, and 
 some of the shots thus made were said to be very 
 fine. 
 
 Of the rebel army, General Clark, Colonel Al 
 len, and Captain Frepannier were said to have 
 been mortally wounded. The town was full of 
 wounded rebels in private houses, besides those in 
 our own hospitals. 
 
 For days after the battle, all our information 
 pointed to a renewal of the fight on the part of the 
 rebels, with heavy reinforcements. There was 
 
THE LATE WAR. 30 1 
 
 something going on above that we did not ex 
 actly understand. Whether Vicksburg had been 
 evacuated, or the attempt to reduce it abandoned 
 by the Federal troops, we could not say, but our 
 leaders were satisfied that Van Dorn had rein 
 forced Breckenridge since the fight, and that they 
 were determined to see if they could not improve 
 on their attempt of the 5th of August. 
 
 After the death of General Williams, Col. Payne, 
 of the Fourth Wisconsin, was in command of the 
 post. Col. Payne possessed the entire confidence 
 of the command. 
 
 Our lines were drawn in, and the entire force 
 massed in the neighborhood of the old United States 
 barracks. With a force of nearly a thousand con 
 trabands, we fortified our position, threw up breast 
 works, dug rifle pits, and cleared away obstructions 
 in the way of our fire. At night our boys pitched 
 into the work themselves, and worked like beavers 
 until after midnight. Looking at the magnitude of 
 the works, it seemed like an absolute impossibility 
 that so much could have been accomplished in less 
 than twenty-four hours. But everybody was ex 
 pecting an attack before morning, and both con 
 trabands and soldiers worked hard. All night 
 nothing was heard but the sound of the pick and 
 shovel, and the dull, heavy "thud" of the pack 
 ing mules, beating down the loose earth. About 
 two o clock our pickets were fired on, and the 
 whole force repaired to the trenches, where they 
 remained until breakfast time without seeing any 
 thing of the foe. 
 
3O2 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 I was an officer of the guard the night before the 
 fight. When our pickets were driven in, and it 
 became evident the enemy was advancing in force, 
 the guard, which was a tolerably heavy one, was- 
 marched out with the battalion. After the first fire 
 the guards were ordered to join their several com 
 panies. Not particularly fancying the idea of be 
 ing shot at, with no means of offensive operations 
 save and except a sword as guiltless of edge as a 
 crowbar, I borrowed a gun from a wounded man, 
 and fell in with Capt. Jim Grimsley s company, my 
 own company having been detached from the bat 
 talion to support a section of Everett s battery, in 
 another part of the field. 
 
 Captain Grimsley s company having its full com 
 plements of lieutenants in the field, I was left, in a 
 measure, free to take notes and watch for an op 
 portunity to "plug" a "reb." I heard a deal of 
 noise, and occasionally got a glimpse of a "but 
 ternut" among the corn, but the fog was so dense, 
 and the smoke so thick that I could not draw a 
 satisfactory "bead." Finally, a. regiment of the 
 enemy, somewhat out of latitude, was seen march 
 ing down an opposite street, a little in advance of 
 us. We received orders to fire, and I succeeded 
 in covering a rather "natty" looking officer, 
 mounted on a splendid horse. I fired. After the 
 smoke cleared away, a riderless horse was seen 
 galloping madly down the street, and I was in 
 clined to think there was room for promotion 
 among the staff officers of that battalion. 
 
 The enemy were most splendidly armed with 
 
THE LATE WAR. 303 
 
 Enfield and Minnie rifles, throwing balls of Eng 
 lish manufacture, with the box-wood plug in the 
 base. The passage of these balls close to one s 
 head was followed by the most infernal hissing 
 sound it is possible to imagine. Sometimes they 
 seemed to me to be endowed with vitality, and 
 possessed of the most fiendish spirit of vindictive- 
 ness. Then again they reminded me of geese fol 
 lowing you in the road not dangerous, but exas 
 perating. 
 
 But the most singular thing, and one which I do not 
 remember to have heard mentioned heretofore, was 
 the effect of these balls upon the atmosphere through 
 which they passed. The passage of one immedi 
 ately across your face was followed by a momen 
 tary sensation of deathly sickness. The air seemed 
 thick, stifling and putrid, like that of a newly- 
 opened vault, accompanied by an odor of certain 
 kinds of fungii found in the woods, and never will 
 ingly disturbed by either man or beast. J should 
 like to know if any one else has felt this, or if it 
 was a peculiar fancy of my own. 
 
 The rebels were provided with percussion shells, 
 fashioned like those used in our rifle cannon. It 
 was supposed that they were intended for explod 
 ing caissons. 
 
304 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 FROM the time they left Camp Moore, the rebels 
 -were subsisted by private contributions from citi 
 zens along the way. Wagon loads of provisions 
 were hauled for miles on either side of the road. 
 Yet many of them got nothing. The haversacks 
 of a number of those left dead on the field were 
 filled with a miscellaneous collection of food ; bis 
 cuits, " pones " of corn bread, fried chicken, cakes 
 of clabber-cheese, etc. In the lower edge of our 
 camp I found a large, fine-looking rebel, with an 
 intelligent countenance, and a fine, silky beard, 
 lying flat on his back with his arms thrown out, 
 and a rifle shot through his neck, just under the 
 ears. In coming through the camp of the Four 
 teenth Maine he had secured a loaf of soft bread, 
 and thrust it into his bosom. I have no doubt he 
 was hungry, and the loaf bore marks of his fin 
 gers where he had pinched off and eaten mouth- 
 fulls during the heat of battle. There are times 
 when, in contemplation of the most trivial things, 
 the strongest man will be overcome with the weak 
 ness of a child. I had just passed a rebel, torn to 
 shreds with a twelve-pound shell, and lying a 
 bloody, loathsome, and shapeless mass, without a 
 shudder ; and yet the sight of this poor devil, with 
 his nibbled loaf, almost unmanned me. 
 
 During the hottest of the fight, I came upon a 
 
THE LATE WAR. 305 
 
 woolly head, deployed as skirmisher, and with the 
 muzzle of an Enfield protruding from behind a 
 large magnolia tree. He fired just as we filed past, 
 and rolled over on his back to reload. " What the 
 d 1 are you doing there? " said I. " O, nothing 
 sah ; only doin a little -picketm" 1 " was the answer,, 
 with the utmost sang froid. 
 
 A most dastardly attempt was made to assassin 
 ate Col. Dudley, of the Thirtieth Massachusetts, 
 on the night of the battle. He was giving instruc 
 tions to some of our sentinels, when he was fired 
 upon from one of the houses with an air gun, the 
 ball passing close to his head. 
 
 We had a drummer boy with us, who had the 
 most remarkable faculty of getting into scrapes, 
 and the most remarkable luck in getting out of 
 them. On the day of the fight, Charley, in com 
 pany with another drummer, got a gun and started 
 out on his own hook. With his usual brilliant 
 strategy, Charley managed to insinuate himself be 
 tween ours and a Confederate regiment, and had 
 quite a lively time in " changing front," as the 
 storm of bullets might be coming from one side or 
 the other. In the meantime, Charley and his com 
 rade managed to get in a few shots edgewise, and 
 finally escaped unhurt. The most amusing thing 
 was Charley s description of the sickly sort of 
 laugh with which he and his comrade tried to keep 
 up each other s spirits. 
 
 After the fight was over, Charley went back to 
 camp to see about his " traps," and managed to be 
 
 20 
 
THE LATE WAR. 
 
 taken prisoner. A Confederate lieutenant cate 
 chised him after the following manner : 
 
 Lieutenant You d d little cuss, what the 
 are you after here? 
 
 Charley I want my knapsack. 
 
 Lieutenant How many of you d d Yankees 
 .are there? 
 
 Charley I don t know. 
 
 Lieutenant You have an idea ; guess. 
 
 Charley Between ten and twelve thousand. 
 
 Lieutenant Don t lie to me, you little rascal, 
 (drawing a revolver) I ll shoot you in a minute. 
 Now tell me the truth. 
 
 Charley I really don t know. (After a pause.) 
 .How many men have you? 
 
 The rebel looked for a moment as if this was too 
 much for human nature to bear. Then he faced 
 Charles about, gave him a tremendous kick in the 
 rear, and told him to " git." 
 
 The Yankees were jealous of the part taken by 
 an Indiana regiment in the fight, and ashamed of 
 their own. Consequently, every cursed " Nutmeg," 
 from the highest to the lowest, persisted in mis 
 representing us. General Butler, as the head of 
 the New England Division, felt bound to favor it 
 as much as possible. At the same time I do him 
 the justice to say that he did not misrepresent us, 
 except by implication. He only did us injustice 
 by mentioning us in the same connection with regi 
 ments who eternally disgraced themselves, and the 
 uniform /they wore. The New Orleans papers were 
 edited by Yankees. One of them stated editorially 
 
THE LATE WAR. 307 
 
 that General Williams was killed while trying to 
 rally the Twenty-first regiment, which was thrown 
 into dismay. A " passenger" from Baton Rouge 
 (probably a Yankee sutler, running away from the 
 prospect of another fight,) informed another of those 
 Yankee editors that General Williams was killed 
 while cheering on our men to retake a gun which they 
 had lost. The simple facts were these : General 
 Williams, after denouncing the Fourteenth Maine 
 and Seventh Vermont as "sheep," publicly com 
 plimented our regiment as the only one which had 
 not been broken and scattered. At one time 
 Brown s mule battery, supported by Michigan 
 troops, was compelled to abandon one gun, the 
 last charge of canister from which was fired at a 
 body of rebel troops not twenty -paces distant; but 
 the brave Michigan boys soon drove the enemy 
 away, and gallant Jim Brown saved his gun. From 
 this gun five gunners were shot down at one fire. 
 It was stationed at least half a mile from where 
 General Williams fell. This "passenger from Ba 
 ton Rouge" failed to state, while on the subject 
 of guns, that Company F, of the Twenty-first In 
 diana, three times manned a section of Everett s 
 battery from its own ranks, and hauled off the guns 
 by hand when the horses were shot down, and also 
 that Indianians hauled off a section of Manning s 
 battery by hand after it had been abandoned. The 
 honest truth was just this : The Fourteenth Maine 
 broke at the first fire, and never reformed. They 
 had twenty-six men killed and seventy or eighty 
 wounded, without firing more than one volley, 
 
3O8 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 which they fired in the air. The Confederates 
 shot them down as we used to shoot rabbits in Illi 
 nois. 
 
 The Seventh Vermont fired into us. They had 
 a few men killed and wounded by bullets that first 
 passed through our ranks. When ordered to move 
 up to our support, they failed to do so, and many 
 of them broke and ran to town. While the Twen 
 ty-first Indiana, the Sixth Michigan, the Thirtieth 
 Massachusetts, and the artillery were fighting the 
 battle, a lot of cowardly wretches were down in 
 the town plundering houses. The Fourth Wis 
 consin and Ninth Connecticut had no opportunity 
 of engaging in the fight. 
 
 Long after the battle, we were occupied, work 
 ing in the trenches in the day time and sleeping in 
 the trenches at night, scouting, picketing, forag 
 ing, evacuating, moving and re-moving. After 
 working hard and faithfully for more than two 
 weeks, and burning down a part of the town to 
 give our artillery good range, Col. Payne had just 
 got Baton Rouge in a defensible position, when 
 the order came from New Orleans for its evacua 
 tion. The Ocean Queen, a large, sea-going 
 steamer, took on four regiments, and the remain 
 der of the troops, munitions and supplies, were 
 placed on different river transports, and on the 
 morning of the 2Oth of August, the whole fleet set 
 sail down the river, under escort of the gunboats, 
 with the exception of the iron-clad Essex, which 
 remained at Baton Rouge to prevent the rebels 
 from occupying and fortifying the town. It was a 
 
THE LATE WAR. 309 
 
 sad and yet an exciting scene to see that long string 
 of puffing steamers, crowded with soldiers, creep 
 ing away from a position which could have been 
 maintained at all hazards. But I presume the men 
 were needed more elsewhere than there. The 
 morning before we left Baton Rouge a consider 
 able force of rebel cavalry and infantry, probably 
 under the impression that our forces had been al 
 ready withdrawal, came to our outposts and attacked 
 our pickets. Our gunboats opened a furious fire, 
 which sent them back in the direction of the 
 Comite a little faster than they came. (The Com- 
 ite is a small stream ten miles back of the city.) 
 
 It was reported that one shell from the Missis 
 sippi, killed seventeen skedaddling rebels. The 
 following incident is vouched for : A Michigan boy 
 had strayed beyond the lines, foraging for poultry. 
 Four mounted rebels came out of a cornfield and 
 fired their carbines at him. Michigan drew up his 
 gun and shot one of them dead. Then fixing his 
 "bayonet, he charged the other three, and put them 
 to flight. Our first landing was at Camp Parapet. 
 This camp was behind an immense earthwork, ex 
 tending some two or three miles in length, back to 
 the swamp, thrown up by the rebels against an in 
 vasion from the north. Phelps, with a force of 
 mixed troops, was encamped. We pitched our 
 tents in a cornfield, where the mud was almost 
 knee deep, and stayed there two or three days? 
 during which our Western men were constantly 
 embroiled with negroes and "Nutmegs." At 
 Camp Parapet, I saw what I had often heard of 
 
310 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 but never expected to see an entire regiment of 
 slaves, regularly organized and drilled to the 
 best of their ability. 
 
 There was a great deal of speculation as to 
 whether or not the negro would fight. I had not 
 the slightest doubt that, if properly disciplined, they 
 would fight perhaps a good deal better than some 
 of the New England troops did in the affair at 
 Baton Rouge. It would not have been healthy for 
 any of them to be taken prisoners. But fight or 
 no fight, a negro who has served any length of 
 time as a soldier will prove an invaluable acquisi 
 tion to the morals of a sugar plantation. 
 
 After the death of General Williams, a new brig 
 ade was formed, composed of the Twenty-first In 
 diana, Fourth Wisconsin, and Fourteenth Maine, 
 with Colonel Payne as acting brigadier. If they 
 had given us the Sixth Michigan in the place of the 
 Fourteenth Maine, the arrangement would have 
 been complete. Although the Fourth Wisconsin 
 could, by seniority, have claimed the first position, 
 Colonel Payne, in consideration of the services of 
 the Twentv-first, gracefully waived the claims of 
 his regiment, and gave us the right, with the Wis 
 consin on the left, and the Maine in the center. 
 Colonel Payne possessed not only the entire confi 
 dence, but the love and esteem of all the Western 
 men of the department. He was a thorough sol 
 dier, a gentleman and a scholar, and if he could 
 only have sworn a little once in a while, I would 
 have considered him perfect. 
 
 After our regiment left Algiers and went to Ba- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 311 
 
 ton Rouge, the guerillas in the western parishes 
 and along the banks of the river carried matters 
 with a high hand. A Vermont regiment, which 
 succeeded us at Algiers, proved itself totally inca 
 pable of dealing with them, having had its scouting 
 parties repeatedly drawn into ambush and severely 
 cut up. At one time two whole companies, with 
 artillery, were captured, and a day after, a party 
 sent out to learn their fate was drawn into ambush 
 and nearly annihilated. A party from our regi 
 ment went out, drove the guerillas from their 
 camp, and re-captured a large number of Vermont 
 wounded men. 
 
 On a Sunday, having heard of a large force of 
 infantry, cavalry and artillery up the river, in com 
 pany with detachments from the Fourteenth Maine, 
 Fourth Wisconsin and Ninth Connecticut, and the 
 sloop-of-war Mississippi, about four hundred of our 
 regiment started after them, on the steamers Morn 
 ing Light, St. Maurice, Laurel Hill and General 
 Williams (late Burton.) When in the neighbor 
 hood of the Red Church, we accidentally stumbled 
 on Waller s battalion of Texas cavalry. One-half 
 of our force was landed below and the remainder 
 above, and scattered in detachments ; we began 
 beating up the cane and rice-fields to set the game 
 afoot. The division that I was with marched back 
 toward the swamp through the rice-fields, and took 
 position in ambush in a narrow lane, the fences oj 
 which were overgrown with high weeds. We had 
 
 c? O 
 
 been there but a few moments, with skirmishers 
 thrown out well towards the swamp, when we 
 
312 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 heard a rattling volley from the rest of our regi 
 ment, between us and the river. The volley was 
 occasioned in this manner : A man named Doug 
 las, of Company G, had straggled from the detach 
 ment, and was pursued by the mounted Texans 
 with fierce shouts. Poor Douglas was making 
 wonderful time, but it was not in nature for a man 
 to outrun a horse, and consequently his pursuers 
 were gaining upon him rapidly, and were brand 
 ishing their long, heavy, heathenish knives, in an 
 ticipation of soon bagging him, when suddenly 
 companies B and G arose from the grass and fired, 
 killing the entire party, horses and all. One of 
 them was literally shot to pieces, having five balls 
 through his head and seven through the chest. 
 The three unfortunates who were killed were part 
 of a scouting party, the main body being farther 
 back toward the swamp. The fate of the three 
 alarmed the party, and they were seen galloping 
 through the cane about a quarter of a mile to the 
 right of where our detachment was stationed. A 
 party of the men were sent out, who failed to cut 
 them off, but killed one and made two prisoners. 
 
 The Mississippi, by means of her lookout at the 
 masthead, was able to distinguish the rebels among 
 the cane fields, and threw a few shells with great 
 precision, which, besides killing and wounding 
 .several, added greatly to the mortal terror of the 
 rebels. 
 
 In the meantime the main body of the rebels, as 
 yet in blissful ignorance of our force and resources, 
 drew up in line of battle along a road about half a 
 
THE LATE WAR. 313 
 
 mile to the left of our position, and out of reach of 
 the Mississippi, with the intention of hazarding a 
 fight. Throwing out skirmishers to the right and 
 left, with the Jackass battery in front, we advanced 
 along a cross-road until within six hundred yards 
 of their position. An open field, overgrown with 
 tall, rank weeds, all matted together with a web of 
 wild pea vines, intervened. The whole formed a 
 dense jungle, through which a hare could scarcely 
 force her body ; and yet this was the kind of terri 
 tory over which our boys had the felicity of illus 
 trating the beauties of the skirmish drill. 
 
 Our guns opened on the enemy with shell and 
 canister, and they broke in the utmost terror. 
 Prisoners afterward told us that they were una 
 ware that we had any artillery, and were taken 
 completely by surprise when the shells and canis 
 ter began flying through their ranks. 
 
 From this time the affair became little more than 
 a rabbit hunt. The greater part of the rebels fled 
 to the swamp, but some of them scattered among 
 the weeds in the fields. These were hunted out 
 and shot or taken prisoners. The road to the 
 swamp was strewn with a miscellaneous lot of 
 clothing; saddle-bags, gourd-canteens, pistols, 
 knives, swords, hats, coats, shirts, powder-kegs, 
 hospital stores, and everything possible to be cast 
 loose in a desperate fight. Haversacks, rudely 
 made of coffee sacks, and filled with corn bread, 
 onions, sweet potatoes and fried chicken, lined the 
 road on either side. Some of the canteens, picked 
 up by our boys, let loose, when the cork was re- 
 
314 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 moved, a familiar smell of " spirits," but no Texan 
 would ever for a moment think of sacrificing such 
 an utensil, even in the moment of wildest panic, 
 as long as a drop remained. Hair lariats, vast 
 spurs, with rowels as large as a silver dollar, buck 
 skin moccasins, cap-boxes made of sea-beans, and 
 all outlandish things possible for a Texan ranger 
 to own, also paved the way. 
 
 His education, who has never seen a Louisiana 
 swamp, is vastly incomplete. He has lived with 
 no adequate conception of what Webster means 
 when he defines desolation, gloominess, sadness, 
 destitution. Desolation means a Louisiana swamp. 
 For further information inquire within. Familiar 
 as I have been, in former times, with these vast 
 swamps, during hunting and fishing excursions, I 
 extended my acquaintance at that time ; I went 
 further into the swamp than I had ever been be 
 fore I went in up to my neck. How far my 
 horse went, I can not say. The last time I saw 
 him he was still going in. Into the swamp rode 
 the six hundred, as if the very d 1 was after 
 them ; and into the vile swamp, among the moc 
 casin snakes, we followed them. For two miles or 
 more we floundered through the mud and water, 
 picking up a squad of "tuckered" out rebels 
 here, shooting another one there. All along, the 
 swamp was covered with horses, bogged down and 
 unable to move, and some of them with their en 
 trails torn out in contact with the sharp cypress 
 needles which abounded in all the s\vamps. For 
 miles these horses, a great many of them fine ones 
 
THE LATE WAR. 315 
 
 too, were there found. The best horses carried their 
 riders the farthest into the morass. We got out 
 a number of them, shot such as were snagged with 
 the needles, and left the others to their fate. Com 
 ing out of the swamp, it would have puzzled any 
 one to have told an officer from a private, or a 
 white man from a negro. We were cased in a 
 thick coat of mud, which having dried, gave us 
 something the resemblance of plaster statues. Al 
 together we made a rather poor affair of Waller s- 
 battalion. They were a fine-looking, greasy, dirty, 
 ragged, savage, cut-throatish set, but splendidly 
 mounted and equipped. Every man had a shot 
 gun, carbine or short musket, from one to two fine 
 revolvers, and a large outlandish knife or cutlass 
 two feet in length, from two to four inches broad, 
 and weighing from two to four pounds. 
 
 We killed some twelve or fourteen rebels, took 
 twenty or thirty prisoners, and captured fully four 
 hundred horses. The horses were good, and some 
 of the equipments elegant. From papers captured, 
 we learned that Waller s battalion were regularly 
 mustered into the Confederate States service, the 
 men having equipped themselves at an average 
 cost of three hundred and thirty dollars. If they 
 did not perish in the swamp, and ever succeeded 
 in getting together again, it cost them a trifle to re 
 fit. Reports of the battle of Baton Rouge came 
 back to us, and excited no little merriment. "Lord, 
 lord, how this world is given to lying !" The fact 
 was, it was a hard fight, and we came out a little 
 the best. The gunboats rendered no assistance 
 
3l6 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 whatever. The rebels did not bayonet our wounded, 
 nor did they fire on them as they were brought 
 in. The enemy did not even temporarily occupy 
 and burn our camp. They began to burn, but 
 got no farther than the third row of tents. The 
 point on our right, where the majority of reports 
 made Nim s battery perform prodigies of valor, 
 was occupied by Jim Brown s Jackass battery. 
 
 The comments of the Indianapolis Journal and 
 Chicago Tribune, on the death of General Wil 
 liams, were not in the best taste, though literally 
 true. If anything could have justified them, how 
 ever, it was the sickening eulogy which was heaped 
 upon his memory after his death. The truth was, 
 Williams was universally detested by the threeWest- 
 ern regiments under his command. So far from be 
 ing the accomplished soldier he was represented, he 
 either had no military talent or failed to manifest it. 
 Although in possession of certain information that 
 an attack would be made on the morning of the 
 fifth, he made no preparation whatever to meet it, 
 but suffered the camp of the Twenty-first Indiana 
 to remain in its old position, advanced entirely be 
 yond the line, or where the line should have been 
 formed in " order of combat style." During the 
 battle he seemed to be without a purpose. Just 
 after the Seventh Vermont fired into us, he sent an 
 order to Colonel Keith to fall back to the peniten 
 tiary. Colonel Keith swore furiously, and utterly 
 refused to obey, saying that Williams was not fool 
 enough to send such an order. Just then Williams 
 rode up, and Keith asked him if he had sent such 
 
THE LATE WAR. 
 
 an order. "Yes," said Williams; "but I believe 
 I was mistaken." Then the order was given to 
 charge, and Williams fell, but not as the the pa 
 pers had it, while rallying the Twenty-first Indiana.. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 GEN. WEITZEL, a worthy young gymnast, who, 
 by a vigorous leap, skipped several rounds of the 
 ladder of military promotion, and from a lieuten 
 ant became a brigadier general, was organizing 
 an expedition for the Attakapas country. Gen. 
 Weitzel s expedition was to land at Donaldson- 
 ville, and march down the Bayou Lafourche ; but 
 for some time Donaldsonville and the neighboring 
 country had been infested with audacious and dar 
 ing rebels, who, notwithstanding the gunboats, 
 made the navigation of the Mississippi particu 
 larly uncomfortable, and cotton and sugar-stealing 
 expeditions extremely hazardous. The powers 
 that be had a little curiosity to know the force and 
 resources of the Donaldsonville rebels, and Col. 
 McMillan, who was tolerably sure of being called 
 on when anything enterprising or dashing was to 
 be done, was commissioned to make a reconnois- 
 sance. With a force of about four hundred men 
 from the Twenty-first, with the Jackass battery 
 under command of Lieut. Brough, and a couple of 
 gunboats in the river, we effected a landing at 
 
.3 1 8 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 Donaldsonville, on the 2ist of September, 1862. 
 On the 22d and 23d, we made short excursions 
 down the bayou on the lower side, encountering 
 and driving in the rebel pickets. 
 
 On the 24th, ascertaining that the principal force 
 was stationed on the upper side of the bayou, Col. 
 McMillan, with three hundred men and the three 
 field pieces, started down that side. In the mean 
 time, he had learned through reliable sources, that 
 the rebel forces in the neighborhood numbered 
 over a thousand, but, with our battery, we were 
 vain enough to think our three hundred men a 
 match for them. Proceeding down the bayou, 
 driving the rebel pickets before us, when in the 
 neighborhood of the Cox plantation, and about 
 three miles from the river, we found a little more 
 than we bargained for in the shape of Semmes 
 battery This was one of the finest light batteries 
 in the Confederate service, consisting of six rifled 
 brass six-pounders. It opened upon us a furious, 
 well-directed, and well-sustained fire, which was 
 promptly and spiritedly replied to by our battery. 
 Finding that they had the advantage of us in 
 range, Lieut. Brough limbered up, and took a new 
 position within six hundred yards of his opponent, 
 when the artillery duel was renewed. 
 
 Taking a fancy to the Confederate pieces, Colo 
 nel McMillan ordered a charge to take them at the 
 point of the bayonet. The men, who were shield 
 ing themselves from the well-directed fire behind 
 the levee, promptly fell in, and impatiently awaited 
 the order to charge, when Colonel McMillan dis- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 319 
 
 covered a heavy force of cavalry galloping through 
 the cane-fields with the evident intention of cutting 
 us off from the river. This somewhat changed the 
 face of affairs, and a retreat was ordered and con 
 ducted in an orderly but rather hasty manner. I was 
 a considerable distance in advance of the battalion 
 with a party of skirmishers. The day was most in 
 fernally hot, and with my brains frying and sputter 
 ing in my head, almost completely exhausted, with 
 my skirmishers, I began a laborious retreat through 
 the thick cane-rows and tangled pea-vines. Grad 
 ually the boys began to disappear in front, and the 
 prospect of my getting through became involved in 
 disagreeable uncertainty ; yet I do not think I 
 would have been taken were it not for the appear 
 ance of my evil genius in the shape of an old gray 
 horse, which a native was leading out of the cane. 
 He was a most unpromising animal, whose sands 
 of life had nearly run out, rough and shabby in 
 coat, unsymmetrical in shape, and afflicted with 
 sundry of the ills to which horseflesh is heir ; but I 
 thought he might have life enough in his venerable 
 bones to carry me out of a bad scrape. I made the 
 native help me on him, and then go ahead and let 
 down the bars so I could get out on the bayou 
 road. I struck my heels vigorously into old gray s 
 ribs and whaled him with the end of a rope, but 
 could not get anything better out of him than a de 
 liberate walk. As I was slowly working him up to 
 the fence, already entertaining serious doubts as to 
 the remunerative nature of my horse speculation, 
 my native called to me in barbarous French to go 
 
320 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 back to the cane, as the Philistines were coming; 
 up the road. I evacuated my horse in strong dis 
 gust, and clambered over the high plank fence to 
 get into the cane. In getting over, I caught my 
 foot on the top and fell all of a heap, giving my 
 back a violent wrench. I, however, limped along 
 until I found the enemy were between me and our 
 men, and then laid down in the cane, thinking I 
 would wait until the excitement was over, and 
 then make my way back to the river. I do not 
 know how long I laid there, but it seemed to me 
 nearly a week. I could hear our battery away off 
 near the river blazing away at the rascals, and oc 
 casionally the shrill scream of our gun-boat shells. 
 Finally, all became quiet, and I began to think of 
 make another start, when I heard the galloping of 
 cavalry near me. I again laid down, hugging the 
 the earth close, and making myself as thin as pos 
 sible, but keeping a lookout towards the direction 
 from which they were coming. Presently the head 
 of a squadron of the sons of Belial emerged and 
 filed past my place of concealment, down the "turn 
 ing row," on their return from pursuing our fel 
 lows. 
 
 The party had nearly all passed, and I began to 
 think they would not see me, when a little, red- 
 capped cuss in the last file, instead of going about 
 his business, looking neither to the right nor left r 
 did look to the right, and caught a glimpse of my 
 blue blouse among the green leaves of the cane. 
 Wheeling his horse around he took another look, 
 then cocked his double-barreled shot-gun, and in- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 321 
 
 vited me to " come out o that," an invitation I did 
 not feel at liberty to decline. I came out and gave 
 up my arms, when a lively dispute arose between 
 my captor and one of his companions as to whose 
 " Yankee" I was, each claiming that he had seen 
 me first* I began to fear that I should suffer the 
 fate of the unfortunate Miss McCrea in the dis 
 pute between the two Indians, and that unable to 
 decide which of them should have me, they would 
 agree to halve me, and each take a part. Finally 
 one of them took me up behind him, and I was 
 carried to headquarters, feeling exceedingly sheep 
 ish, with a strong inclination to sell out of the ser 
 vice at less than cost. 
 
 The headquarters were in a large frame dwell 
 ing taken from Mr. Cox, a Union man. There I 
 found Col. Vincent, a little, spectacled man, with 
 .a Jewish cast of countenance ; Lieutenant Colonel 
 McWaters, a fine looking, red faced old gentle 
 man, kind and generous in conduct, but fierce as 
 .a tiger in battle ; and various line officers, whose 
 names I do not remember. 
 
 I was paroled not to attempt an escape, and 
 kindly treated, but awfully bored with questions, 
 which, however, I was told I need not answer un 
 less I wanted to. I also met Capt. Semmes and 
 Lieut. Fauntleroy, of the battery. Semmes was 
 a. slight, sallow-faced, volatile man, apparently not 
 more than twenty-one years old, a son of " Sum- 
 ter" Semmes, then commanding the Alabama. I 
 felt a good deal of curiosity to see him, as we 
 were already acquainted with his battery having 
 21 
 
322 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 had the benefit of a formal introduction at Baton 
 Rogue. Fauntleroy was a fine-looking, amiable, 
 red-headed young fellow, with a most amusing 
 " stutter " in conversation. 
 
 The men all had a curiosity to see and talk with 
 the prisoner, so much so that Col. McWaters- 
 placed a guard at the door to keep them from 
 annoying me to death. One of them, who had 
 failed to get a sight at the show, came up after a 
 while and stood outside the door, saying nothing, 
 but looking at me curiously. Col. Vincent passed 
 by, and asked him what he wanted. He said he 
 wanted to see the Yankee. " Want to see a Yan 
 kee, do you?" said the Colonel, "Well take forty 
 rounds of cartridge and go up to Donelson." The 
 fellow grinned his appreciation of the joke, but 
 didn t seem to want to see the Yankees bad enough 
 for that. 
 
 On the morning of the 26th, I was started for 
 Camp Pratt, on Bayou Teche, in charge of Lieut. 
 Chamberlain. We landed at New Iberia about an- 
 hour before day, a little town with dirty streets, 
 and a strong sheepy smell. After daylight a buggy 
 was procured, and, through a long lane, which 
 had more than one turning, I was conveyed to 
 Purgatory, which, in the language of the country, 
 was called " Camp Pratt," a camp of conscription 
 and instruction, six miles from New Iberia, and 
 fifty miles from the Bay. The camp itself was a 
 collection of plank "wedge-tents," with here and 
 there small editions of the stars and bars flapping 
 their greasy folds in the breeze. I was taken be- 
 
THE LATE WAR. 323 
 
 fore Col. Burke. Col. Burke was the " big Injun " 
 of Camp Pratt. 
 
 I was turned over, properly receipted for, and 
 then, after taking a formal leave of Lieut. Chamber 
 lain, who had treated me very kindly, I was es 
 corted to the prisoners quarters, where one hun 
 dred and thirty-seven Yankees, taken at Bayou 
 des Allemands, were confined. I was not natur 
 ally a lover of Yankees, but, "Fiat Justitia," 
 though the heavens fall. These were the meanest 
 Yankees I ever saw. Of course there were hon 
 orable exceptions, but I never saw as much petty 
 meanness and selfishness in my life as I witnessed 
 among them. They annoyed me, and disgusted 
 me more completely than anything I saw in rebel- 
 dom. The officers, however, were very clever y 
 but one of them was the most inveterate Yankee I 
 ever met. He had been five years in the regular 
 army, and still his enunciation of "cow" would 
 have insured him " a long cord and short shrift " 
 in the days of Kansas border ruffianism. He al 
 ways called me " Hoiu-sicr" and really seemed to 
 enjoy the wit of the thing so highly that I could 
 not find it in my heart to get angry with him. I 
 contrived, however, to let him know in the course 
 of our acquaintance, that so far from being ashamed 
 of being a Hoosier, I was proud of it, and that I 
 did not agree with him in believing that the hub of 
 the universe was located in New England, 
 
324 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THERE I also found Connelly and Cox, our two 
 lieutenants, who were captured in May last. Poor 
 fellows ! They had been confined for three months 
 and fifteen days in Opelousas jail before coming to 
 Camp Pratt. Camp Pratt was filled with Cajunn 
 conscripts. I will try and tell what a Cajunn is. He 
 Is a half-savage creature, of mixed French and 
 Indian blood ; lives in swamps, and subsists by hunt 
 ing and fishing and cultivating small patches of 
 corn and sweet potatoes. They are sallow, dried 
 up, and mummy-like in appearance, and stolid and 
 stupid in expression. The wants of the Cajunn are 
 few, and his habits simple. With a bit of corn- 
 ~bread, a potato, and a clove of garlic, with an oc 
 casional indulgence in stewed crawfish, he gets 
 along quite comfortably, and for luxuries, smokes 
 husk cigarettes and drinks rum when he can get 
 it. The Cajunn has great powers of endurance, 
 but not much stomach for fight. Of the herd at 
 Camp Pratt, desertions were quite frequent, some 
 times as many as thirty or forty stampeding in a 
 single night. But they w r ould be caught, brought 
 back, made to wear a barrel for a week or two, and 
 were finally broke in. 
 
 I can not say that we were abused by the 
 Cajunns. They did not insult, but exasperated us 
 dreadfully. In the cool of the evening, they would 
 
THE LATE WAR. 325 
 
 gather about our quarters, and stand, or sit squat 
 ted on their haunches, for hours, not saying a 
 word to us or to each other, but regarding us with 
 a grim, stupid stare, reminding me strongly of the 
 manner in which the lower class of Choctaws, in 
 the Indian country, sit and gaze at a circus bill. 
 
 Seven of us were stowed in one tent a dirty, 
 greasy pen, densely populated with vermin. We 
 had three blankets among us, and as northers 
 would occasionally blow up, one might imagine 
 our sleep was not "balmy." We had about a 
 quarter of an acre of ground for one hundred and 
 forty persons to exercise upon, with a guard of one 
 Cajunn, with a double-barreled shot-gun, to every 
 fourteen feet of ground. For food, we had yellow 
 cornmeal, beef, and sugar, issued to us, with the 
 alternative of cooking it ourselves or eating it raw. 
 The Yankees boiled the beef, and made a thick 
 mush of the meal, which they called pudding. 
 Boiled beef is the meanest thing on earth, except 
 half-cooked, yellow mush. I ate the mush for 
 three or four days, unil my stomach utterly re 
 volted, and an attempt to eat it was followed by 
 the most violent retching. Then I subsisted on 
 beef alone for a time. To tell the truth, I came 
 near being starved. The ghost of every good din 
 ner I ever ate in my life, haunted my weary slum 
 bers. The shade of a mince pie, which an es 
 teemed lady friend had sent me years ago, was 
 particularly obtrusive. After feasting upon all 
 manner of delicacies and substantiate in my trou- 
 
326 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 , 
 
 bled sleep, I would wake to the realization of cap 
 tivity, and the cussed mush and beef. 
 
 Camp Pratt was short of crockery, and the boys, 
 for plates, used all sorts of contrivances, so that 
 they frequently ate their mush from pieces of gourd 
 calabashes, the shoulder-blades of deceased oxen 
 and other unique vessels. 
 
 While the men had money they would buy milk 
 at twenty-five cents a quart ; eggs, fifty cents per 
 dozen ; sweet potatoes, four dollars per bushel ; 
 a twelve-ounce loaf for fifty cents, etc. ; but after 
 they had eaten up their knapsacks, haversacks, 
 canteens, and, in some instances, their shoes, they 
 had to return to mush and beef. As for me, I had 
 no money, and as nobody offered to lend me any, 
 I had a full course of the nutritious diet alluded to. 
 Connelly and Cox were in the same fix. The only 
 time when we departed from the bill of fare was 
 when we devoured Connelly s watch. 
 
 In justice to the Camp Pratt officers, I must say 
 they gave to us just what they did to their own 
 men. Indeed, I generally found them willing to 
 oblige us, when in their power. One might natur 
 ally imagine the days at Camp Pratt were long and 
 irksome. The entire literary resources of our party 
 amounted to an old magazine, a Dutch dictionary, 
 a Catholic prayer-book, in French, and a well- 
 worn edition of " Robinson Crusoe." Robinson 
 was good for thirty or forty perusals, but after that 
 became a little stale. 
 
 Connelly and Cox, having been nearly five 
 months in captivity, and seeing no signs of ever 
 
THE LATE WAR. 327 
 
 being released, concluded to risk the fearful 
 chances of a journey through the swamps, to es 
 cape. Knowing more than they of the horrors of 
 a Louisiana swamp, I tried to dissuade them ; but, 
 finding them determined, I resolved to risk my fate 
 with theirs. One dark night they both succeeded 
 in getting away, but I was stopped by the guard. 
 This I regarded at the time as another exemplifi 
 cation of my constitutional ill-luck ; but I soon had 
 occasion to look upon it as the only good luck I 
 ever had in my life. The very next day after the 
 skedaddle, we learned that we were to have been 
 sent to Vicksburg, to be paroled, and in a week we 
 went. Connelly and Cox, I afterwards learned, 
 after suffering unheard-of hardships from cold, 
 hunger and venomous insects, were recaptured at 
 Donaldsonville, utterly barefooted, and with bleed 
 ing, mangled feet. 
 
 From the time of leaving Camp Pratt, we fared 
 well. Captain Rensaw, or Ransom, who had us 
 in charge, treated us very kindly. We came down 
 the Teche and up Achafalaya, on the " Cricket," 
 to the mouth of Red river, and from thence on the 
 "Louis d Or" to Vicksburg. This was the chan 
 nel of communication between Richmond and 
 Louisiana, or Texas, and the Government boats 
 did a lively trade in sugar and beef. The batter 
 ies at Port Hudson and Vicksburg kept all that 
 portion of the river between the two places open. 
 
 At Vicksburg we remained two weeks. The offi 
 cers were paroled for a certain portion of the city, 
 and boarded at the Washington Hotel, at an ex- 
 
328 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 pense of $4.00 per day each to the Confederate 
 government. There I was treated with much kind 
 ness and courtesy by Confederate officers, many 
 of whom offered to lend me money. Everywhere 
 the utmost confidence in the success of their cause 
 was felt. The fortifications at Vicksburg had been 
 greatly strengthened, and were then regarded as- 
 invulnerable. The construction of the Yazoo- 
 iron-clads proceeded slowly, but, from what I 
 learned incidentally, they would prove more for 
 midable than any they had ever had. The Con 
 federates expressed the highest admiration of Rose- 
 crans, but said that McClellan was our best gen 
 eral. They said that if he had had Western men 
 in his army they could not have cleaned him out 
 so easily. They thought Buell a dangerous man. 
 For Pope they had the most supreme contempt, 
 and they thought they were too sharp for any of 
 Sigel s Dutch tricks. 
 
 We came down from Vicksburg under a flag of 
 truce. Our regiment was out at Berwick s Bay. 
 They manned the gun-boats in the fight at the 
 mouth of Teche, and lost five men killed. Lieu 
 tenant Wolfe, of Company H, was killed, and 
 Lieutenant Fisher, of Company A, lost both his 
 legs by the premature explosion of a shell. Our 
 boys made excellent gunners. They could do any 
 thing cavalry, artillery, engineering or navy work, 
 as well as infantry. Our colonel, however, always- 
 fancied that he belonged to the navy. 
 
 Another change now took place in post com 
 manders. Between King s Log and King s Stork, 
 
THE LATE WAR. 329 
 
 we were in a fair way of becoming as heartily sick 
 of change as were the frogs in the ancient fable. 
 The new commander General Philip St. George 
 Cook dawned upon us, and immediately began to 
 "fix things." Cotton in large quantities, hereto 
 fore concealed, was freely exchanged for the nec 
 essaries and luxuries of life. 
 
 There were twenty regiments of the Corps d r 
 Afrique, at Port Hudson, and more were to be or 
 ganized. A year before, one would as soon 
 thought of drowning himself as of taking a posi 
 tion in a negro regiment. That service, however, 
 became quite popular, and a number of the Twen 
 ty-first Indiana became officers therein. 
 
 November 7, 1863, our cavalry scouts en 
 countered a small mounted force of the enemy, 
 about six miles out on the Clinton road, and it was 
 reported to be the advance of a heavy force, of 
 course. Enemy s loss, two hundred and twenty- 
 one killed, wounded, and driven back principally 
 driven back ; our loss trifling. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 TOWARDS the latter part of November, 1868, in 
 dications were more favorable for something to 
 transpire at our end of the river. The rebels, sen 
 sible of the absurdity of attempting to protract the 
 war with the Mississippi in our possession, seemed 
 
33 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 to be meditating a bold stroke to establish a per 
 manent blockade, either by fortifying a new point, 
 like that of Fort Adams, for instance, or by the 
 recapture of Port Hudson. 
 
 Gen. Dick Taylor was reported to have crossed 
 the Atchafalaya in force, and established himself 
 on the Mississippi, between Morganza and the 
 mouth of Red river, with the intention, as some 
 supposed, of capturing a steamer and crossing over 
 to the other side. 
 
 The Emerald was fired on one morning, at 
 Hogg s Landing, on her way down, by a battery 
 of six and twelve-pounders. The boat had an 
 chored in a heavy fog during the night, about six 
 hundred yards from the shore. She had aboard 
 about five hundred soldiers, including Company 
 M, First Indiana Artillery, and convalescents from 
 the Thirteenth Army Corps. The fog beginning to 
 lift in the morning, the captain had the anchor 
 weighed, preparatory to moving ahead, and just 
 at this time the opposite shore , was discovered to 
 be alive with gray-backs. Lieutenant McMillan, of 
 the First Indiana, being in command of the boat, 
 formed up such of his men as were armed, about 
 two hundred in number, and fired on the enemy. 
 The fire was immediately returned with ^artillery. 
 Twenty-one shots were fired in all, three taking 
 effect; one in the hull, one in the cabin, and one 
 in the pilot-house. The shot in the pilot-house 
 was a twelve-pound shell, and in exploding, tore 
 it to pieces and knocked over the pilot, who, con 
 siderably stunned and bewildered, ran below, the 
 
THE LATE WAR. 331 
 
 boat in the meantime running ashore, and making 
 prodigious efforts to climb the bank. A soldier of 
 the Seventeenth Kentucky threatened to blow the 
 pilot s brains out, and drove him back to his post, 
 when the boat was headed down stream and 
 steamed off, making better time, than she ever 
 made before. 
 
 The navigation of the Mississippi was a ticklish 
 business at this time. The steamer, Black Hawk, 
 was fired on at about the same point where the Em 
 erald and others were riddled viz. Hogg s Land 
 ing. This boat was terribly torn, while several 
 were killed and others wounded. There were la 
 dies on board, but they escaped without injury. At 
 Tyler, a large number of our men, who had been 
 made prisoners, were confined. Frequent attempts 
 were made to escape, which the rebels mostly pre 
 vented by organizing a blood-hound cor-ps to hunt 
 them down. 
 
 The enemy, during the entire campaign, stud 
 iously avoided a general engagement, but was ac 
 tive enough in making sudden dashes on exposed 
 detachments. Our generals, who made war ac 
 cording to rule, were disgusted with the irregular 
 tactics of the Confederates, who played swordfish 
 to the whale. 
 
 An Ohio regiment, captured in Burbridge s brig 
 ade, numbering over three hundred, was said to 
 have given at a recent election, two hundred and 
 fifty votes for Vallandigham. With such a record, 
 no one could feel very sorry for them. 
 
 The City Belle, chartered by Gov. Morton, ar- 
 
33 2 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 rived at Baton Rouge the last day of December,, 
 1862, loaded with sanitary stores for the Indiana 
 soldiers of that department. 
 
 At that time, Baton Rouge and the woods and 
 swamps of the interior, were said to be swarming 
 with refugees. Two causes operated to drive them 
 into our lines the scarcity of food and the activ 
 ity of the conscript hunters. Many of those who 
 came in, had laid for weeks and months in the 
 swamps, living on frogs, crawfish, and an occa 
 sional ear of corn. 
 
 In August, 1863, the thunders of war ceased at 
 Port Hudson. I had been absent for several 
 months in fact, had been sent on a fool s errand 
 to the darker portion of Indiana, and had received 
 a fool s reward. I went on business connected 
 with the recruiting service, but few were the re 
 cruits, and small were the demands made on the 
 United States Treasury for transportation of men 
 from Martin county to the seat of war. Return 
 ing too late to share the perils of the siege and 
 the glory of the final triumph, I must content my 
 self with reviewing what others did. Though 
 nearly a month had elapsed since the surrender of 
 that stronghold, there were abundant evidences of 
 the tremendous struggle of our forces for posses 
 sion, and the stubborn resistance of the besieged 
 
 Of the hundred pieces of artillery captured,, 
 scarce one but bore marks of rough usage, in the 
 shape of a shattered carriage, a split muzzle, trun 
 nions knocked off, or deep indentations in the side. 
 Captain Connelly, with two pieces, crossed the 
 
THE LATE WAR. 333 
 
 river below, and, cutting embrasures in the levee, 
 soon dismounted all their guns on the lower part 
 of their river front, without losing a man, or hav 
 ing had either of his guns disabled. Among them 
 the large rifled piece which sunk the Mississippi, 
 and which had been a terror to our fleet, went by 
 the board. 
 
 I rode around the rebel works. They were 
 .seven miles in extent, and were neither strong nor 
 elaborate in construction. The rebels were in 
 debted to nature, rather than art, for the success 
 with which six thousand men so long and so suc 
 cessfully held out against the army of Gen. Banks. 
 The country around Port Hudson was cut up with 
 wide and deep ravines, intersecting each other at 
 .all sorts of angles. These ravines had precipitous 
 banks, and were filled with a wild mass of fallen 
 trees, tangled vines and undergrowth, through 
 which it would seem a rabbit could scarcely force 
 its way. In riding around the line, a nice, smooth 
 place was occasionally seen, left invitingly open 
 for a charge, but a closer examination revealed 
 the fact that it would not have been very healthy 
 to attempt the entrance. Masked batteries, en 
 filading pieces and torpedoes, were ready to deal 
 death and destruction on the advancing columns. 
 The Citadel, the rebel work, to the capture of 
 which almost the entire energy of the besieging 
 forces was directed during the latter part of the 
 siege, and to effect which the celebrated sixteen- 
 gun battery was erected, proved to have been lit 
 tle more than an out-work, so effectually com- 
 
334 THE LATE WAR. 
 
 manded by interior works, that in the event of its 
 being taken it could not have been held. At the 
 time of the surrender it had been sapped by the 
 Michigan men, the shaft entering a distance of 
 eighty-fhre feet from the base. 
 
 From officers who participated in the siege, I 
 learned a number of interesting facts, which I do 
 not remember to have seen anywhere else. The 
 various charges made upon the works did not seem 
 to have been very well managed. In the first 
 charge, on the 27th of May, Sherman, at first, re 
 fused to charge, alleging that it would be a useless 
 expenditure of life. General Banks sent a peremp 
 tory order to charge at all hazards. Sherman did 
 so, but was repulsed with fearful loss. In the 
 meantime, before Sherman started, the charge 
 had taken place at other points, and had been re 
 pulsed, and the rebels had concentrated on Sher 
 man s front. Payne s charge was well and gal 
 lantly executed, and came nearer being a success. 
 Dwight s charge was a miracle in its way and 
 was, no doubt, the most remarkable one on rec 
 ord. It would certainly have been successful, but 
 for the great distance intervening between the ad 
 vancing columns and the parapet, and the fact that 
 the nine-months heroes became pretty well "tuck 
 ered out" just about the time they got within two 
 or three hundred yards of the rebel works, within 
 easy range of a light battery, which opened on 
 them. Of the infantry participating in these 
 charges, the Fourth Wisconsin, Sixth Michigan, 
 and Second Duryea Zouaves have the best record. 
 
THE LATE WAR. 335 
 
 They were all terribly cut up, and behaved most 
 gallantly. 
 
 Guerrillas were again active, and gobbled up a 
 party of wood-cutting negroes, in plain sight of the 
 State House. Then again, just across the river, 
 they made simultaneous attacks on government 
 plantations on both side, a little below Port Hud 
 son, killing and wounding a number of negroes- 
 One of our gun-boats came down and shelled 
 then off, taking five or six prisoners. That is the 
 only instance on record, I think, of a gun-boat 
 taking cavalry. The scoundrels did not observe 
 the approach of the vessel until they were covered 
 by her guns, when they preferred surrender to the 
 risk of being ventilated with canister. 
 
 General Weitzel s brigade went down the river 
 and joined the expedition, a part, at least, of which 
 was on its way, having been heard from at the 
 Southwest Pass. The command of the post de 
 volved upon Colonel John A. Keith, of the First 
 Indiana Artillery, who, notwithstanding his right 
 arm was entirely useless from the effects of the- 
 terrible wound he received in the battle on the 5th 
 of August, had been in command of his regiment 
 since April, and bore a conspicuous part in the 
 siege and reduction of Port Hudson. 
 
 From some of the soldiers on board, the Iber- 
 villes, that came down early in October, with badly 
 wounded men of the Twenty-sixth Indiana, and a 
 few Confederate prisoners, I obtained an intelli 
 gible account of an affair near Morganza, exagger 
 ated rumors of which had reached us from many 
 
33^ THE LATE WAR. 
 
 sources. The facts were that General Herron, 
 with a force of three or four thousand men, had 
 been sent up to Morganza, to amuse a Confederate 
 force in that neighborhood and try and hold them 
 there until the Teche expedition, by advancing as 
 far as Vermilionville, would cut them off. General 
 Herron, after landing at Morganza and throwing 
 out a force of five hundred men, of the Twenty- 
 sixth Indiana and Nineteenth Iowa, was relieved 
 of his command by General Dana, and ordered to 
 report to General Banks. This force of five hun 
 dred men, under command of Colonel Leake, of 
 the Twenty-eighth Iowa, was encamped between 
 the main force and the Atchafalaya, which ran 
 near the Mississippi, at Morganza, had been en 
 gaged for a number of days in constant skirmish 
 ing with the enemy, and was finally surrounded by 
 an overwhelming force, and, after a desperate 
 fight had to surrender, with a loss of fourteen killed 
 and over forty wounded. The fight was represented 
 by those who participated in it to have been of the 
 most obstinate and deadly character. Col. Leake 
 was badly wounded. After the fight, the Confed 
 erates, under command of General Greene, of 
 Texas, hastily retreated, leaving all our wounded 
 (with the exception of the officers, whom they car 
 ried off) upon the field, with three of our soldiers, 
 who were unhurt, to take care of them. They did 
 not offer to parole our wounded or the nurses left 
 with them, but hastily covered up their own dead, 
 and took their wounded to the other side of the 
 Atchafalaya. 
 
THE LATE WAR. 337 
 
 One section of the Second Missouri Battery was- 
 also captured. There was a small cavalry force 
 along with the command of Colonel Leake, which 
 cut its way through the enemy, and reported to 
 General Dana at Morganza, who, with forces 
 drawn up in line behind the levee, seemed to be 
 quietly awaiting the issue of the conflict going on 
 in his front. 
 
 The town of Morganza a small collection of 
 antiquated frame houses was burned by our 
 troops, who were intrenched behind the levee, and 
 under the protection of the gun-boats, awaited an 
 attack from a force said to number ten thousand. 
 Morganza was in Morgan s Bend, a few miles 
 above Bayou Sara. 
 
 The Confederates held a strongly fortified posi 
 tion at Camp Bisland, where a desperate stand 
 might have been made ; but it was so situated, geo 
 graphically, that a force coming in from above 
 could have cut them off completely. Fearing this, 
 they removed their cannon and destroyed their 
 works as soon as they discovered the formidable 
 nature of the force gathered at Brashear, and 
 moved further up the country. 
 
 22 
 
SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 
 
 THE HORRIBLE FLY. 
 
 Oh, the fly ! The horrible fly, 
 Dabbing at rose and mouth and eye ; 
 Over the ceiling, over the meat, 
 Over all that people eat. 
 Buzzing, 
 
 Tickling, 
 
 Crawling about 
 Damnable insect you get out. 
 Waddling in the paint on a lady s cheek, 
 Leaving behind a tortuous streak. 
 Accursed fly ! from the hell below, 
 Never came pest that plagues us so. 
 
 Oh, the fly ! The riotous fly 
 Pest of the earth. Beneath the sky 
 Nothing that s devilish ranks so high 
 As this ere infernal buzzing fly, 
 Dancing, 
 
 Nibbling, 
 
 Fresh from the stye 
 The stinking stye, where the porkers lie, 
 And even the dogs, with a snarl and a bound, 
 Snap at the insects that swarm around. 
 The air is blue with oaths that try 
 To drown the hum of the odious fly. 
 
SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 339 
 
 When the weary pilgrim seeks repose 
 There s a hornpipe danced on the tip of his nose, 
 There s a vigorous d n and a slam and slap, 
 And that s the end of the sleeper s nap. 
 Singing, 
 
 Stinging, 
 
 Why, oh, why 
 Did God create this pestilent fly. 
 Once I was pious, but fell from grace, 
 Played the pack open and coppered the ace, 
 Made of myself a terrible guy, 
 When the devil caught me out on the fly. 
 
 How strange it is that housewives will try 
 To kill with cobalt this villainous fly. 
 How strange it seems when a billion are slain, 
 To find the multitude doubled again, 
 Whisking, 
 Frisking, 
 
 With clammy feet 
 W r ading deep in the food we eat. 
 If, like Toby, at the fly we swear, 
 And the angel recorder enters it there, 
 Give us then the welcome doubt 
 That the tear of mercy will blot it out. 
 
 THE MISSION OF AN AEROLITE. 
 
 One of the most phenomenal deaths that ever 
 was known, occurred in the vicinity of Newtown, 
 Fountain county, this State, on Tuesday night. 
 Leonidas Grover, a farmer, while asleep in his 
 bed, was instantly killed by an aerolite, which 
 came from some unknown quarter of the universe, 
 flying through space with fearful velocity. It tore 
 
340 SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 
 
 a ragged opening through the roof directly above 
 Mr. Grover s breast, crashed through his body, 
 through the bed and the floor beneath, and buried 
 itself five feet in the earth. Its weight was twenty 
 pounds. What time the mysterious missile came, 
 no one knows. Mr. Grover s daughter and her 
 husband, who constitute the family with whom 
 he resided, were away during the evening. When 
 they returned at a late hour, the house was still. 
 They retired, and did not learn of Mr. Grover s 
 death until the next morning, when, as he did not 
 come to breakfast at his usual time, his daughter 
 went to call him. The position of the dead man 
 when found showed that he had been asleep when 
 the curious messenger of death met him, and that 
 his death had been instantaneous and painless. 
 
 Death has many avenues out of life ; but none 
 have heretofore been discovered so mysterious, so 
 full of sad speculation, and so certainly proving 
 that "no man knoweth when the king shall come." 
 Of all ways of leaving the world this is one that 
 never could have occurred to Mr. Grover. He lay 
 down peacefully in his bed, in the house that had 
 sheltered him safely for years, without a thought of 
 danger, and while he slept a missile more deadly 
 than the thunderbolts of Jupiter, a projectile hurled 
 by the very gods, as it were, from some planet mil 
 lions of miles away, came straight as an Indian s 
 arrow through space % and struck him lifeless. He 
 was an upright and God-fearing man, and had no 
 enemies to dread ; no avenger to fear. His life 
 had been calm and simple. He had joyed in the 
 
SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 34! 
 
 few homely pleasures that surrounded him. He 
 had watched the seasons come and go with sweet 
 contentment. When he lay down that fateful even 
 ing he had no premonition of the dreadful thunder- 
 stone which was flying through space, bearing his 
 death-warrant. He dreamed, perhaps, as he slept, 
 but only of happy hours that were safe in the im 
 pregnable past, and not of the grim angel whose 
 wings shadowed him, for his face still bore the 
 trace of smiles, and was untouched by a line of 
 anguish. On, on came the aerolite, hissing through 
 space with a momentum so terrific it can scarcely 
 be computed ; its aim as certain, its purpose as 
 deadly as though propelled by some invisible but 
 superhumanly intelligent power. It struck Mr. 
 Grover as he slept and dreamed, and the spark of 
 his life was quenched. The mission of the mys 
 terious missile was accomplished. Its journey 
 through infinite space was finished . It buries itself 
 in the earth, and the heat of its anger and the 
 force of its fury are spent. It is no longer a mes 
 senger from another world, charged with a tragic 
 commission, but a part of our earth, passive and 
 inanimate, compelled to remain so until some 
 grand change is made in the solar system of which 
 this planet is a part. 
 
 Many have been the theories advanced to explain 
 the phenomena of aerolites or meteorolites. That 
 they are mineral masses of ultra-terrestrial origin, 
 fallen to our earth, is now the accepted theory ; 
 though as meteoric astronomy is yet in its infancy, 
 the true source of their origin and the causes 
 
34 2 SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 
 
 which impel them to this planet are yet, perhaps, 
 to be discovered and made plain. It is estimated 
 that at least five thousand separate aerolites fall 
 every year, and as many as six or seven hundred 
 meteoric showers take place over the surface of 
 the earth in the same time. Sometimes one or two 
 single masses fall, and sometimes a shower of two 
 hundred or more stones is distributed over several 
 acres or miles ; sometimes dust accompanies the 
 shower, and sometimes dust falls alone. Chladni 
 propounded the now generally accepted theory with 
 regard to the origin of aerolites. He affirmed that 
 there are more comets and smaller bodies flying 
 about in space than there are fishes in the ocean. 
 The velocity of aerolites is more than triple that of 
 a body simply falling through infinite space. That 
 would travel at the rate of six or seven miles per 
 second, while aerolites have a planetary velocity, 
 some of them even overtaking the earth in its 
 course. One of the remarkable meteorolites men 
 tion in history fell 467 B.C. It was still extant in 
 Pliny s time, and he mentions that it was as large 
 as a wagon. In passing through our atmosphere, 
 meteorolites undergo some change, as they always 
 take fire in the upper regions, and arrive at the 
 ground quite hot. There are two kinds, the me 
 tallic and stony aerolite. 
 
 WE take it back in its totality. The death was 
 not a phenomenal one. The aerolite did not come 
 hurtling from the infinite depths of space. It did 
 not tear a ragged opening through the roof of Mr. 
 
SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 343 
 
 Grover s house, nor did it crash through his breast 
 and then pass through the bed, the floor, and so 
 on into the earth, five feet. Mr. Grover s daugh 
 ter and her husband were not away from home at 
 the time of the accident, and they didn t fail to 
 discover his death until the next morning. He 
 didn t die. He didn t get hurt. He didn t even 
 get frightened. He wasn t there ; he isn t any 
 where now. Burn him. If Mr. Leonidas Grover 
 ever should come into existence, and get killed by 
 an aerolite, he will have to get some one else to 
 write his obituary. It is a nice enough thing to 
 moralize over, and it furnishes great scope for the 
 play of sentimental fancy, but we despise the sub 
 ject, and we have precious little faith in thunder- 
 stones, anyhow. The audacious villain who in 
 vented the canard is an unmeasured fraud and an 
 infinite liar. Hell gapes for him. The devil beck 
 ons to him with his hands, and horns and tail. 
 Eternal cremation, with a brimstone accompani 
 ment, is his doom. 
 
 A BLIND TRAMP. 
 
 He got on the train at the station just across the 
 river from Little Rock. He was shabbily dressed,, 
 apparently not more than twenty-five years old, 
 and totally blind. From the way he moved it was 
 apparent that his blindness was recent the recol 
 lection of previous sight adding to the crushing 
 weight of his misery. He was gaunt, ill-fed, sick, 
 
344 SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 
 
 and the expression of his face was hard, sullen, 
 rebellious, defiant, just as if he were ready to 
 curse God and die. The conductor came in, and 
 studiously ignored him in collecting fares. (They 
 have the "whitest" set of employes on the Iron 
 Mountain road to be found in the United States.) 
 For hours the blind man sat in his seat, without ap 
 parently moving a muscle or limb, brooding over 
 the hard fate which enables some to lap their souls 
 in the elysium of plenty, while it takes from an 
 other food, clothing, health, and what is more 
 precious than all, blessed vision, through which the 
 thirsty soul drinks in the beauty of nature. The 
 train rolled, and rumbled, and jolted ; people came 
 and went ; children chattered and women laughed 
 about him ; but through all, the blind man main 
 tained his imperturbable stolidity. It was not a 
 pleasant face. Some of its lines were suggestive 
 of vice. But the mountain weight of irreparable 
 misfortune overshadowed everything else. I looked 
 on the poor creature and pitied him. The repul 
 sive sight had for me a horrible fascination. I 
 looked from the window to shut out the sight, but 
 was compelled to turn again and again, to watch 
 the stone-like figure with its set face never turning, 
 apparently oblivious to everything except its own 
 ever-present misery. Finally, I remembered some 
 thing I should not have forgotten. I took a buz 
 zard -from my pocket, walked over, and gently 
 dropped it in the open palm of a very dirty hand, 
 which rested idly in his greasy lap. As the coin 
 touched him, he started as if he had been stung, 
 
SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 345 
 
 but in the same moment, recognizing the nature of 
 the transaction, closed on the money with eager 
 touch and conveyed it with a tremulous motion to 
 his vest pocket. There is a contagion of good ex 
 ample as well as of vice, and in a moment others 
 had done likewise, until the dirty vest pocket 
 bulged with its wealth. Through all, the blind 
 man made no vocal sign of gratitude, but two 
 tears gathered in his sightless eyes, and rolled 
 down his swarthy, smoke-dried cheeks. At Wal 
 nut Ridge a gentleman went out and bought him a 
 cup of coffee and some sandwiches, which he de 
 voured ravenously, as if food had been a stranger 
 to him. We learned that he had been living with 
 a brother in Arkansas, who died, and he had 
 started out to hunt another brother who lived some 
 where in Illinois. 
 
 OF COURSE. 
 
 He was taken completely by surprise. He 
 didn t expect anything of the kind. It was a 
 gold-headed cane. He choked with emotion as 
 he gazed upon the "testimonial." As Secretary 
 of the Senate he had done the least work and 
 drawn the most pay, but his subordinates were so 
 impressed with the grace, the ability, the suaviter 
 in modo, with which he drew his pay, that they 
 couldn t help testifying their profound apprecia 
 tion of his good qualities. Some occult influence 
 lurks within the damp and musty walls of that old 
 
346 SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 
 
 State House, and it always makes the employes 
 affectionately generous about the close of the ses 
 sion, and leaves the "recipient" tearful and gush 
 ing. Session after session it is always the same. 
 The secretary is never moved in that way. He 
 finds it more blessed to receive than to give. His 
 understrappers may be affable, and faithful, and 
 genial, and all that sort of thing, but it never oc 
 curs to him to give them a gold watch each, or a 
 carie, or a barrel of flour. Singular, isn t it? 
 Wonder why the old thing don t work that way 
 once in a while, by way of a change? There is 
 some great principle in the regular recurrence of 
 this testimonial business at the close of each ses 
 sion, if we could only get at it. 
 
 LIFE: at West Baden is not a season of unalloyed 
 delights. It has its drawbacks, so to speak. The 
 chickens are cooked in the highest style of the art, 
 and the glistening leaves of the maple trees, freshly 
 washed by the rain, relieve the tired eye with their 
 grateful green. Somehow I always fancied that 
 the shade of the sugar maple was cooler than that 
 cast by any other tree. But the insect pests are at 
 times almost intolerable. There is the mosquito. 
 He don t amount to much. We know all his ways. 
 He does not trouble at night, but when we go into 
 the leafy covert in pursuit of berries he gets in his 
 work. Going into the leafy covert, however, is in 
 dulged in but sparingly by the veterans. As a 
 general thing a fellow goes into the leafy covert 
 
SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 347 
 
 the day after his arrival. Then he waits for some 
 other fellow to go. If you should ask me why this 
 apparent want of confidence in the leafy covert, I 
 should answer, I should tell you CHIGGERS. You 
 don t know what a chigger is, O city-bred reader? 
 God keep you in ignorance. The chigger is an 
 infinitesimal tick that bites and burrows in the 
 flesh. It is almost invisible to the naked eye, and 
 yet when you are bitten the first impression is that 
 a hornet has crawled up the leg of your trowsers. 
 One sting satisfies the most malevolent hornet, and 
 with the aid of ammonia the pain is soon gone, and 
 the swelling abates. With the chigger it is differ 
 ent. When you go to bed at night every chigger 
 that has effected a lodgment opens up in a fresh 
 series of bites, each one of them equivalent to that 
 of a large pismire, and there is no let up till you 
 kill the critter by scratching or greasing with lard, 
 coal oil or some other unguent. Then he festers 
 in his burrow and is sloughed out. The best way 
 is to grease on suspicion every time you go into 
 the woods. The same power that made the chig 
 ger doubtless sat the elephant on his four legs, and 
 started him out in life with his baggage train in- 
 front, in imitation of the tactics of that valiant 
 Massachusetts warrior, Gen. Nathaniel P. Banks, 
 when he charged Dick Taylor s intrenchments at 
 Mansfield. On general principles, I d rather be an 
 elephant than a chigger. There s more style 
 about him. But if I had a spite against a fellow- 
 creature, and could overcome my natural kindness 
 of heart long enough to make it warm for him, I d 
 
348 SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 
 
 rather be a chigger. If Job had been well chig- 
 gered early in his affliction, there would have been 
 a different story to tell of that bilious man of God. 
 (Bilious comes from bile, O captious critic, and I 
 am sure Job was covered with biles, from head to 
 foot.) 
 
 But the Black Gnat is the triumph of nature when 
 it comes to pests. I have such a respect for this 
 little scoundrel s power of annoyance that I spell 
 him with a capital G. He is small a mere filmy 
 dot, floating in the air like a speck of dust, and only 
 distinguishable from the inanimate motes by his 
 zigzag motion in flying. But he bites with a ter 
 rible bite. It hurts worse than that of a gallinip- 
 per, and raises a round red spot, visible for days 
 after. The black gnat pursues you everywhere. 
 Making no noise, the first intimation of his attack 
 is the sharp, stinging pain of his bite. Turning 
 your hand, under-side up, you see a small black 
 speck, and if he has been sufficiently absorbed in 
 his breakfast to forget his usual caution, you smash 
 him with a blow heavy enough to kill a rabbit. In 
 deed, you regret that he is not as big as a bumble 
 bee, so that you could have that much more re 
 venge. 
 
 YOUNG men don t take kindly to babies as a gen 
 eral thing. A man must be forty at least to appre 
 ciate them. It is natural that a fellow who is 
 nearing the other end should begin to take an 
 interest in those who are just starting. Conse- 
 
SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 349 
 
 quently we find that the young buck, who is all 
 cuff, collar, hair and necktie, views with horror 
 the red, squirming, colicky thing which is to be 
 come a man or a woman, as the case may be, if its 
 luck carries it through the " second summer," and 
 the gauntlet of mumps, measles, scarlatina, and 
 other infantile ailments. To his barbaric ear there 
 is no music in the squawk of a Tupperian "well 
 spring of pleasure," and it is only aiter baby be 
 gins to " take notice " that he can tolerate it. The 
 subject is, however, worthy of study in all its 
 stages of development, from its first wondering 
 stare at surroundings, all the way up through the 
 era of tumbling off the back porch, to boyhood, 
 marbles and rubber slings. The baby is always 
 perverse, always trying to swallow its fist, always 
 reaching for things, and generally moist. They 
 always look like somebody. Getting baby to sleep 
 is the principal occupation of the female members 
 of the household, and fighting sleep soon comes to 
 be the life-work of the baby. So many subter 
 fuges and confidence games are resorted to that 
 he finally comes to regard sleep as a " game " that 
 is being played on him, and on the principle that 
 it is generally safe to decline doing what your op 
 ponent wants you to do, he resolutely cultivates 
 wakefulness, and resents all the inventions of the 
 enemy, from the soothing lullaby to the vibratory 
 motion of the cradle. Nobody knows whether a 
 baby would ever voluntarily go to sleep or not. 
 The experiment has never been tried. Probably 
 he regards sleep as so much time lost, during 
 
35O SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 
 
 which his tyranny is in abeyance, and he resents 
 the various artifices by which he is swindled out of 
 his rights. 
 
 WILLIAM J. MURTAGH, proprietor of the Na 
 tional Republican, of Washington, D. C., has 
 been held " pussonally responsible" by a " puf- 
 feck gentleman" of one of the "fust families of 
 Kentucky, sah," for a paragraph which reflected 
 on the " puffeck gentleman s" private character. 
 The instrument which administered justice in this 
 instance was the cowhide, a new departure for 
 Kentucky outraged honor, which generally avails 
 itself of the pistol and the bowie-knife. The ac 
 count was settled immediately in front of brother 
 Murtagh s office, a most conspicuous place. There 
 were the usual and more than the usual number of 
 innocent spectators to see it through, and the fur 
 flew in most extraordinary style. Mr. Murtagh is 
 not the chap to take any extra steps, but on this 
 occasion he performed a regular Castanet dance, 
 never missing a step, and keeping time to the mu 
 sic of the cowhide in the most practiced manner. 
 Mr. James Wheatley, the outraged scion of Ken 
 tucky, handled the ready cowhide in the most 
 skillful style, and was cheered on in the glorious 
 work of vindicating his moral character by a hun 
 dred sympathetic voices. A Kentucky gentleman 
 abhors any vulgar or unseemly haste. Mr. Wheat- 
 ley took his time, and kept the entertainment up 
 thirty-three minutes and four seconds. exactly, or 
 
SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 351 
 
 until the editorial legs refused to execute the will 
 of Wheatley. Every spectator declared he never 
 saw such beautiful dancing since the days of the 
 agile Elssler. Mr. Wheatley s wounded " onah, 
 sah," was completely healed when he released the 
 non-resistant Murtagh, who will hereafter make 
 diligent inquiry into the pedigree of anyone whose 
 biography he expects to publish in the Republican. 
 He will take a cowhiding every once in a while, 
 with meekness and lowliness of spirit, if he can 
 have the tax-list of the District of Columbia to 
 sustain his spirit. 
 
 THE astronomical and meteorological editor of 
 the Journal has been unusually brilliant this week. 
 On Wednesday he announced that "the white 
 moonlight was very bright last night." In the 
 same paper he said a genteel and quite eye- 
 watering thing about the dying month. It was 
 this : 
 
 "The month of April will close her account with 
 nature to-day, and turn her toes up to the roots of 
 the daisies. She has made a good record, and 
 leaves the earth better and more beautiful for hav 
 ing lived." 
 
 Now that is what we call the neat and gallant 
 thing to say about a month that has wept, and 
 frowned, and raged, and thundered, and whooped 
 around, as April has done. There is no vulgar 
 slang in that touching obituary. The flowers of 
 rhetoric fairly smother it. A reporter who was 
 
35 2 SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 
 
 not in love with nature, and had not a kind word 
 for every month in the year, would have coarsely 
 said "April peters out to-day," or "The old gal, 
 April, passes in her checks to-night, drat her." 
 There would have been no tender reference to the 
 defunct lady s toes and the roots of the poetic 
 daisies ; no generous mention of her "good record," 
 which is not strictly truthful, but was very sweet 
 in the meteorological editor, all the same. No, 
 there would have been nothing said of April that 
 would bring tears to human eyes, as the weather 
 editor s paragraph does. When the young man 
 wants a situation well, we would scorn to hold 
 out any inducements that would take a star from 
 the galaxy of a cotemporary, but we should like to 
 have something touching and tender like that said 
 in THE HERALD about every day in the year, with 
 an occasional pretty speech about the moon thrown 
 in. 
 
 SOMETHING ought to be done with the interroga 
 tion point. It has become, if possible, more of a 
 vagabond than the comma, and more of a nuisance 
 than the apostrophe. As a medium for the expres 
 sion of sarcasm the interrogation point has lost its 
 force. Used for that purpose, in parenthesis, it 
 expresses but one thing, and that is the ignorance 
 of the writer. A man of little learning and much 
 spleen makes use of the degraded point in this 
 style on all occasions. He says, " the gentlemanly 
 (?) editor of the War Whoop," or "the honor- 
 
SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 353 
 
 able (?) M. C.," and he fancies he has broken 
 down his enemy with the most withering sarcasm. 
 He can t manipulate words to help him out, but he 
 can depend on the interrogation point. Inside the 
 parentheses it always looks fresh and original to 
 him. He knows he didn t invent it, but he thinks 
 the public will believe he did. It is regarded as a 
 perfect battering ram by unsophisticated writers. 
 Hurled at an enemy, he is sure to tremble under 
 the pressure, they imagine. It is the plummet that 
 marks a writer s ability and indexes his temper. It 
 proves the one shallow and the other bad. Come 
 to think of it, the interrogation point is always 
 used en parenthesis, when there is bad blood be 
 tween the combatants. It is never found in a tol 
 erant, reasonable, sensible, printed controversy, in 
 its sarcastic capacity. If it would only confine 
 itself to its legitimate office, and keep out of such 
 questionable company as the parenthesis family, it 
 would hold a position as one of the best points in 
 our language. It should eschew the sarcastic. It 
 is a role it does not succeed in, and it should aban 
 don it. Any writer who can not express sarcasm 
 without the interrogation point had better die with 
 all his sarcasm in him. 
 
 ; 
 
 INDIANS never kiss their wives. Exchange. 
 Neither do they kiss each other s wives, and in 
 that they differ from the proud Caucasian. 
 
 23 
 
354 SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 
 
 ST. Vrrus let himself loose in the Sentinel of 
 Sunday last. He announced, in his usual jerky 
 rhetoric, that the people are in revolt that some 
 body has opened the "caverns of want," and un 
 chained "the wild beasts of desolation," thus 
 giving the ghosts of the dead an opportunity to 
 "stalk" at midnight, and point with " fleshless 
 fingers" at the towering elevators and glutted 
 markets, while they fondle the brindle wolf which 
 sits and howls at the grave s mouth. "The peo 
 ple" that is such of the people as are not in re 
 volt would like to know why the rest of "the 
 people " are in revolt, but Nauvoo declines to tell 
 them. He asks them if they would slake their 
 raging curiosity, to go out on the streets and inter 
 rogate the flinty stones, which, hard-hearted as 
 they are admitted to be, " have more feeling than 
 Sherman or Morton." If the stones fail to re 
 spond, then the inquisitive reader is invited to 
 " enter the damp and dismal shaft of the mine, 
 where the deadly gases generate, and pursue his 
 investigations. If the deadly gases don t respond, 
 the next alternative is to "Go to old ocean s 
 depths ; enter her dark and slimy caverns, above 
 whom the white-capped waves sing requiems of 
 wrecks, and horrid, strangling deaths ; ask the 
 sparkling diamonds clinging to the rocks o erhead, 
 or the grinning skulls beneath your feet." Much as 
 we would like to know why "the people" are in 
 revolt, the slimy caverns, "above whom" etc., 
 are too forbidding. It would be easy enough to 
 interrogate the diamonds and the grinning skulls,. 
 
SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 355 
 
 if they were trotted out, but the slimy caverns of 
 "old ocean" infinitely slimier than the caverns 
 of young ocean repel. We will have to wait. 
 Perhaps the people themselves will tell us why 
 they are in revolt, without waiting for the stones, 
 and the deadly gases, or the slimy caverns, or the 
 grinning skulls to unfold the tale. 
 
 "THERE S honor for you!" Red worms are 
 writhing in the flesh of a New Orleans editor who, 
 one short week ago, was in average health, with 
 unimpaired capacity for the assimilation of his 
 matutinal cocktail. Byerly was his name, and 
 Governor Warmoth was his bane. A card pub 
 lished by Warmoth had touched this editor in his 
 "honor," and that sensitive organ it is an organ 
 In the South clamored for satisfaction. Whack 
 went the bludgeon over Warmoth s head, and in 
 and out of the editorial abdomen slipped the ready 
 knife six times. HOW T much better would it have 
 been for these men to have abused each other like 
 pickpockets in the papers, as we do at the North, 
 and take their drinks together in private. 
 
 YES, he is dead. He died of delight at this de 
 licious spring weather. He was an estimable old 
 gentleman, but an awful liar a bigger liar than 
 the fellow who humped himself up in a thunder 
 storm and took two or three " terrible claps." He 
 
356 SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 
 
 was aged. He could thread a needle at arm s 
 length, and hold an umbrella on a March day. 
 He was in the ark with Noah. "Yes, sir," said 
 he, "after Pharoah came home from battle, I used 
 to take his rig and drive all over town. I was 
 Pharoah s private hostler. Know George Wash 
 ington? Well, I should think I did know him. 
 \Ve were pards, and as for that hatchet business 
 why, I turned the grindstone to sharpen it." 
 
 " MY DEAR PITKIN" stands an extraordinarily 
 good chance of being bounced. Twelve years 
 ago "My Dear Pitkin" was an immature youth, 
 veally, blonde, and pimply, with a weakness for 
 drab pantaloons strapped tightly under patent 
 leather boots, white waistcoat and loud necktie. 
 He wrote erotic poems of more than ordinary 
 vigor, carried a slender rattan cane, terminating in 
 a human leg in ivory, and was considered a good 
 fellow, though not at all "stalwart." If he had 
 improved his opportunities as well as Warmouth 
 did, he could afford to be "bounced," and then 
 quit the game ahead. 
 
 PUTTY is the best material out of which to make 
 a governor. It is soft, pliable, oily. A putty man 
 will do nothing to conflict with the ger-reat and 
 gel-lorious per-rinciples of the Democratic party, 
 said principles being that the people must rule. If it 
 
SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 357 
 
 happens that the people disagree, and one portion 
 takes possession of property belonging to the 
 others, then the noble man of putty stands back, 
 and disinterestedly watches the fight. His soul 
 shrinks from the thought of bloodshed. Besides, 
 it might lose him a few votes, when he comes to 
 run for the presidency, if he were to take sides 
 with "capital" against "labor." 
 
 COMING down Mississippi street the other morn 
 ing, we overtook a little bantam rooster, two sizes 
 larger than a mocking-bird, which had picked up 
 two great Bramah hens, but little smaller than 
 ostriches, and was doing the genteel thing by 
 them. The little cock is the children s pet in a 
 neighboring family, but the hens were evidently 
 strangers, refugees, perhaps, from some grocer s 
 coop. There was something very human in the 
 little bantam s strut, and the fussy airs of protect 
 orship that he assumed ; but the subservience of 
 the great lubberly hens to the feathered midget 
 was absolutely absurd. 
 
 SITTING BULL S band has been cutting up in 
 Canada. Unless he operates with great caution 
 he will learn the difference between the British 
 lion and the national fowl of this country, which is 
 rapidly being hybridized into "an ineffable buz 
 zard." 
 
.358 
 
 SKETCHES AND PARAGRAPHS. 
 
 Miss VICKSEN is one of those curiously-consti- 
 stituted females who "can t bear children," and 
 who are always informing people of the fact. She 
 imparted this valuable information to a mixed com 
 pany, of whom Bluejazy, the brute, happened to be 
 one, the other evening. " How do you know you 
 can t?" said Blue. In about two minutes, from 
 the snapping of Miss Vicksen s black eyes, it be 
 came apparent that she had seen the point, and 
 Bluejazy remembered an engagement down town. 
 
 EDITORS are entirely too free with the brand. 
 They " brand" each other as liars on the slightest 
 provocation. It is bad enough to "denounce" a 
 fellow. Branding is too cruel. There is the dou- 
 ble-turreted old termagant of the Sentinel, who has 
 branded the Journal half a dozen times within the 
 past fortnight. He seems to like to affix the brand. 
 He feels a little brandy every day. 
 
 CAN NOT the Journal give us an occasional para 
 graph about its "course? " No paper that amounts 
 to anything can afford to be without a "course." 
 But when a paper is always talking about its 
 "course" there are grounds for suspicion that it 
 don t amount to much. The condor, as it flies, has 
 no need to call attention to its "course." The 
 peewee has.