How Private George W. Peck Put Down the Rebellion

by George W. Peck

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  I Strike Another Soft-Snap, Which is Harder Than Any Snap Heretofore--I Begin Taking Music Lessons, and Fill Up a Confederate Prisoner With Yankee Food.

  The last two chapters of this stuff has related to early experiences,but now that it is probable the chaplain has got over being mad at mytrading him the circus-horse, I will resume the march with the regiment.For a month or more I had been waiting for my commission to arrive, sothat I could serve as an officer, but it did not arrive while we were atMontgomery, and we started away from that city towards Vicksburg, Miss.,with a fair prospect of having hot work with strolling bands of theenemy. I was much depressed. It had got so they didn't seem to want meanywhere. It seemed that I was a sort of a Jonah, and wherever I was,something went wrong. The chaplain wouldn't have me, because he had asuspicion that I was giddy, and full of the devil, and I have thought hehad an idea I would sacrifice the whole army to perpetrate a practicaljoke, and he also maintained that I would lie, if a lie would help meout of a scrape. I never knew how such an impression could have beencreated. The colonel said he would try and get along without me, theadjutant didn't want any more of my mathematics in his reports and thebrigade commander said he would carry the brigade colors himself ratherthan have me around, as I would bring headquarters into disgrace someway. So I had to serve as a private in my own company, which was veryhard on a man who had tasted the sweets of official position. O, if mycommission did not come soon I was lost. After we had marched a coupleof days it began to look as though we were liable to have a fight on ourhands. Every little while there would be firing in advance, or on theflanks, and things looked blue for one who did not want to have anytrouble with anybody. One morning when we were cooking our breakfastbeside a pitch pine log, a little Irishman, who was a friend of mine,as I always lent him my tobacco, said: "There will be a fight today, andsome wan of the byes will sleep cold tonight."

  A cold chill came over me, and I wondered which of of the "by's" woulddraw the ticket of death. The Irishman noticed that I was not feelingperfectly easy, and he said, "Sorrel top, wud yez take a bit of advicefrom the loikes of me?" I did not like to be called sorrel top, but ifthere was any danger I would take advice from anybody, so I told him tofire away. He told me that when we fell in, for the march of the day,to arrange to be No. 4, as in case we were dismounted, to fight on foot,number four would remain on his horse, and hold three other horses, andkeep in the rear, behind the trees, while the dismounted men went intothe fight. Great heavens, and that had never occurred to me before. Ofcourse number four would hold the horses, in case of a dismounted fight,and I had never thought what a soft thing it was. It can be surmised bythe reader of profane history, that when our company formed that morningI was number four. We marched a long for a couple of hours, when therewas some firing on the flanks, and a couple of companies were wheeledinto line and marched off into the woods for half a mile, and the orderwas given to "prepare to fight on foot." It was a momentous occasion forme, and when the three men of our four dismounted and handed the bridlereins to me, I was about the happiest man in the army. I did not wantthe boys to think I was anxious to keep away from the front, so I said,"Say, cap, don't I go too?" He said I could if I wanted to, as one ofthe other boys would hold the horses if I was spoiling to be a corpse,but I told him I guessed, seeing that I was already on the horse, Iwould stay, and the boys went off laughing, leaving about twenty-five ofus "number fours" holding horses. Now, you may talk all you please aboutsafe places in a fight, but sitting on a horse in plain sight, holdingthree other prancing, kicking, squalling horses, while the rest of theboys are behind trees, or behind logs, popping at the enemy, is no softthing. The bullets seemed to pass right over our fellows on foot, andcame right among the horses, who twisted around and got tangled up, andmade things unpleasant. I was trying to get a stallion I was holding toquit biting my legs, when I saw my little Irishman, who had steered meon to the soft snap, dodge down behind his horse's head, to escape abullet that killed one of the horses he was holding, and I said, "Thisis a fine arrangement you have got me into. This is worse than being infront." He said he believed it was, as he backed his other horses awayfrom the dying horse, but he said as long as they killed horses wehad no cause to complain. There was a sergeant in charge of us "numberfours," and he was as cool as any fellow I ever saw. The sergeant was anice man, but he was no musician. He was an Irishman, also, and when anybugle-call and when any bugle-call sounded he had to ask some one whatit was. There was a great deal of uncertainty about bugle-calls, Inoticed, among officers as well as men.

  Of course it could not be expected that every man in a cavalry regimentwould be a music teacher, and the calls sounded so much alike to theuncultivated ear, that it was no wonder that everybody got the callsmixed. In camp we got so we could tell "assembly," and "surgeon's call,"and "tattoo," and quite a number of others, but the calls of battlewere Greek to us. The bugle sounded down in the woods, and the sergeantturned to me and asked, "Fhat the divil is that I dunno?" I wassatisfied it was "To horse," but when I saw our fellows come rushingback towards the horses it looked as though the order was to fallback, and I suggested as much to the sergeant. He thought it lookedreasonable, too, and he ordered us to fall back slowly toward theregiment. We didn't go so confounded slow, and of course I was aheadwith my three horses. The sergeant heard the captain yell to him to holdon, and he got the most of the "fours" to stop, and let the boys get on,but the little Irishman and myself couldn't hold our extra horses, andthey dragged us along over logs and through brush, the regiment drewsabers to "shoo" the horses back, waived their hats, my horse run hisfore feet into a hole, fell down, and let me off over his head, theother horses seemed to walk on me, I became insensible, and the nextthing I knew I was in an ambulance, behind the regiment, which was onthe march, as though nothing had happened. I felt of myself to see ifanything was broke, and finding I was all right I told the driver of theambulance I guessed I would get out and mount my horse, but he said heguessed I wouldn t, because the colonel had told him if I died to buryme beside the road, but if I lived to bring me to headquarters forpunishment. The driver said the boys whose horses I had stampeded,wanted to kill me, but the colonel had said death was too good for me.Well, nobody was hurt in the skirmish, and about noon we arrived ata camping place for the night, and the ambulance drove up, and I wasplaced under guard.

  It seems the sergeant had laid the whole thing to me. He had admittedto the colonel that he didn't know one bugle call from another, and hesupposed I did, and when he asked me what it was, and I said it was toretreat, he supposed I knew, and retreated. The colonel asked me what Ihad to say, and I told him I didn't know any bugle call except get yourquinine, get your quinine. That when I enlisted there was nothing saidabout my ability to read notes in music, and I had never learned, andcouldn't learn, as I had no more ear for music than a mule. I toldhim if he would furnish a music teacher, I would study hard to try andmaster the difference between "forward and back," but that it didn'tseem to me as though I ought to be held responsible for an expression ofopinion, however erroneous, when asked for it by a superior officer.

  I told him that when the bugle sounded, and I saw the boys coming backon a hop, skip and jump, it seemed to me the most natural thing inthe world that the bugle had sounded a retreat. That seemed the onlydirection we could go, and as my natural inclination was to save thosehorses that had been placed in my charge, of course I interpreted thebugle call to mean for us to get out of there honorably, and as the onlyway to get out honorably was to get out quick, we got up and dusted. Thecolonel always gave me credit for being a good debater, and he smiledand said that as no damage had been done, he would not insist that I beshot on the spot, but he felt that an example should be made of me. Hesaid I would be under arrest until bed time, down under a tree, half amile or so from headquarters, in plain sight, and he would send musicteachers there to teach me the bugle calls. I thanked him, in a fewwell chosen remarks, and th
e guard marched me to the tree, which was theguard-house. I found another soldier there, under arrest, who had rodeout of the ranks to water his horse, while on the march, againstorders, and a Confederate prisoner that had been captured in the morningskirmish, a captain of a Virginia regiment. The captain seemed real hurtat having been captured, and was inclined to be uppish and distant. Itried two or three times to get him into conversation on some subjectconnected with the war, but he wouldn't have it. He evidently lookedupon me as a horse-thief, a deserter, and a bad man, or else a soldierwho had been sent to pump information out of him. I never was let alonequite as severely as I was by our prisoner, at first. But I went to workand built a fire, and soon had some coffee boiling, bacon frying, andsweet potatoes roasting, and when I spread the lay out on the ground,and said, "Colonel, this is on me. Won't you join me?" I think he wasthe most surprised man I ever saw, He had watched every move I made, incooking, with a yearning such as is seldom seen, and he probably hadno more idea that he was going to have a mouthful of it, than that heshould fly. His eyes might have been weak, but if he had been a man Iknew well, I should have said there were a couple of tears gatheringin his eyes, and I was quite sure of it when the flood broke over theeye-lid dam, and rolled down among the underbrush whiskers. He stoppedthe flood at once, by an effort of will, though there seemed a somethingin his throat when he said, "You don't mean it, do you, kernel?" I toldhim of course I meant it, and to slide right up and help himself, and Ispeared a great big sweet potato, and some bacon, and placed them ona big leaf, and poured coffee out in the only cup I had. He kicked onusing the cup, but I said we would both drink out of it. He said, "youare very kind, sir," and that was all he said during the meal. But how he_did_ eat. He tried to act as though he didn't care much for dinner, andas though he was eating out of courtesy to me, but I could tell by theway the sweet potato went down in the depths of my Confederate friend,and by the joyous look when a swallow of coffee hit the right place,that he was having a picnic.

  When we were through with dinner and the guard and the other prisonerwere cooking theirs, he said, "My friend, I do not mind telling younow that I was much in need of food. I had not eaten since yesterdaymorning, as we have been riding hard to intercept you gentlemen, sir.I trust I shall live long enough to repay, you sir." I told him not tomention it, as all our boys made it a point to divide when we captured aprisoner. He said he believed his people felt the same way, but God knewthey had little to divide. He said he trembled when he thought that someof our men who were prisoners in the south were faring very poorly, butit could not be helped. "Suppose I had captured you," he said, with asmile that was forced, "I could not have given you a mouthful of bread,until we had found a southern family that 'had bread to spare.'" I toldhim it was pretty tough, but it would all be over before long, and thenwe would all have plenty to eat. I got out a pack of cards, and theconfederate captain played seven-up with me, while we smoked. Presentlynine buglers came down to where we were, formed in line, and began tosound cavalry calls in concert. I knew that they were the music teachersthe colonel had sent to teach me the calls. The confederate looked onin astonishment, while they sounded a call, and when it was done I askedthe chief bugler what it was, and he told me, and I asked him to soundsomething else, which he did. My idea was to convince the prisoner thatthis was a part of daily routine. He got nervous and couldn't rememberwhich was trumps; and finally said we might talk all we pleased aboutthe horrors of Andersonville, but to be blowed to death with cavalrybugles was a fate that only the most hardened criminals should suffer.The confederate evidently had no ear for music more than I had, andhe soon got enough. However the buglers kept up their noise till aboutsupper time, when they were called on. I got another meal for theconfederate, and he seemed to be actually getting fat. The colonel of myregiment came down to where we were, and said, "You fellows seem to bedoing pretty well," and then he had a long talk with the rebel prisoner,invited him up to his tent to pass the night, apologized for the concerthe had been giving us, explained what it was for, told me I could go tomy company if I thought I could remember a bugle call in the future; thecaptain shook hands with me and thanked me cordially, and we separated.He was exchanged, the next day, and I never saw him for twenty-twoyears, when I found him at the head of a manufacturing enterprise in hisloved Virginia, and he furnished me a more expensive meal than I did himyears before, but it didn't taste half as good as the bacon dinner inAlabama under the guard-house tree.