Incidents of the war: Humorous, Pathetic and Descriptive by Alfred Burnett

FourLeafClover

First Sergeant
Joined
Apr 6, 2011
Location
London
http://www.gutenberg.org/catalog/world/readfile?fk_files=1533462&pageno=45

Available free to read/download/print. At Gutenberg press:

An excerpt:


At dusk we commenced a homeward tramp; and having to pass a house in
which I had previously enjoyed the hospitality of its inmates, I
alighted to refresh myself with a cool drink of water, the balance of
the party going on. I had but just mounted my horse, when he took
fright, and in a moment he was beyond control. Your humble servant
clung with tenacity to the brute, and although I told him to "whoa,"
he wouldn't do it. Now he takes a by-road; away he flies with
lightning speed; 'tis getting dark, and the _fool horse_ is running
further and further from camp. I tried kicking the animal so as to
induce him to believe that it was me that was forcing him to his
utmost speed, but 't was no go. Then, as I came near falling, I
"_affectionately_" threw my arms around his neck, thinking, if life
was spared, what a fine item this runaway would make. In vain I tried
kicks, seesawing, jerks, coaxing, whoaing; in despair, I gave a loose
hold of the reins to the runaway, hoping he would get tired,
endeavoring, however, to keep him in the middle of the road. He jumped
ditches, turned curves, until I began to think I would make a good
circus performer, and eventually hire out to John Robinson, if safely
delivered from this perilous expedition. At last he took me off my
guard: turning abruptly to the left on a by-road, your correspondent
went to the right, heels up in the air for a brief space--in fact, a
balloon ascension; the balloon's burst was the next vivid thing in my
mind, for I remembered scratching in the air, and then an almost
instantaneous collision with mother Earth, alighting upon the right
side of my head, from which the blood gushed in a slight attempt at a
deluge. As luck would have it, some friendly folks came to my rescue,
and bathed my head with camphor; I remounted, and, in a few minutes,
met my companions, who were in search for me. They wet my lips with
some of that stuff in the canteens. On arriving at camp, and sending
for a surgeon, my wounds were dressed. A broken bone in my right hand,
a terrific black eye and disfigured forehead, a sprained leg and
battered side were the result of my excursion. This is the first
letter I have been able to write since.

Last Saturday the whole regiment was in the finest spirits at seeing
among us the kindly face of Cincinnati's universally-beloved citizen,
Larz Anderson, and it did one good to see the hearty shake of hands
our gallant officers and men gave him. He leaves for home to-day,
laden with, no doubt, messages of love to many. God bless and speed
him on his journey.

Captain Burdsall arrived to-day from Cheat Mountain. His command will
remain here a few days, acting as mounted scouts. The Captain received
a serious kick from his horse a week or two ago, and has been confined
to his bed ever since. This company has been a very valuable auxiliary
to the brigade, both at Cheat River Mountain and this place. We are
sorry to hear of their intended return to Cincinnati in a few weeks.

The battle-field of Rich Mountain is about four miles from this place,
and to-day I met with an old veteran, upon whose ground they fought.
He is a thorough Union man, and was a prisoner in the hands of the
Secession party. The rebels, to spite the old veteran, dug a trench
around his house, for burying their dead, only eighteen inches below
the surface. They also ruined his well by throwing in decayed
horse-flesh--in fact, ruined his old homestead, by cutting down his
fruit-trees, and various other specimens of Vandalism.

An incident occurred during the preparation for that battle worth
mentioning. Mr. ----, an old man of this town, a Representative in the
Legislature, one who was elected as a Union candidate, and then basely
betrayed his constituents, and afterward was re-elected as a
Secessionist--this man, on the eve of the battle, having partaken
freely of liquor, heard of the advance of our army, and, mounting his
horse, rode hastily to the rebel camp, to inform them of the intended
attack. He passed the outer pickets, but was halted by a full company
of Georgians, who, hearing of the advance of our men, had been thrown
out to reconnoiter. He, much frightened, supposing he was mistaken and
was in the Union men's camp, begged them not to shoot, exclaiming, "_I
am a Union man._" Scarce had the lying words passed his lips when a
dozen balls pierced his body.

An announcement, made last night, that the rebels were advancing upon
this post, put the boys in excellent humor. Every piece was put in
order, and preparations made for a warm reception of the rebel gentry.
Extra pickets were sent out by Colonel Bosley, who has entire command
of this post, Captain Wilmington being field-officer of the day. The
_guests_, however, did not arrive, thus greatly disappointing the
boys, who had a magnificent _banquet_ in store for them. The bill of
fare consisted of

Bullet Soup--with Gunpowder Sauce;
Bayonets--drawn from Scabbards;
Minié Muskets--nicely _ranged_;
Twelve Six-pound Dumplings--U. S. on the margin;
2,600 Harper's Ferry Clickers;

besides numerous little delicacies in the way of Colt's "Revolving
Pudding-hitters" and "_Derangers_," lightning-powder, Bowies,
slashers, etc.

But as they refused the banquet, why, we will keep it, for the time
being, ready for them in case of an intended _surprise party_.

A serenade in camp is sweet music, indeed. Last night the Guthrie
Serenading Club, consisting of E. P. Perkins, W. B. Sheridan, Charlie
Foster, Captain Wilmington, Zeke Tatem, W. Craven, and S. B. Rice,
gave the denizens of this town and camp a taste of their quality. The
hills resounded with sweet sounds.

"Music soft, music sweet, lingers on the ear."

Captain Pic Russell had an acquisition to his company a few evenings
since--in fact, a Secession emblem: a snake seven feet long--a regular
"black sarpent"--quietly coiled himself in the Captain's blanket. He
was, as soon as discovered, put to death. This region, of country
abounds in serpents, the rattlesnake being a prolific article.
I must close, as the mail is about to start.

Yours,
Alf.
 
Back
Top