THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
/ 
 
 tx 
 
Digitized by tlie internet Arcliive 
 
 in 2010 witli funding from 
 
 University of Nortli Carolina at Cliapel- Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/tomcliftonorwestOOgoss 
 

 
 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 
 
 # 
 
 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
 

Learning to be a soldier. — Page 151. 
 
TOM CLIFTON 
 
 oil 
 
 WESTERN BOYS IN GRANT, AND 
 SHERMAN'S ARMY, '61-'65 
 
 BY 
 
 WARREN LEE GOSS 
 
 Author of " Jed," " Recollections of a Pkivate," etc. 
 
 NEW YORK : 4G East 14th Street 
 
 THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 
 
 IIOSTOX: 100 Purchase Street. 
 
CorYinraiT, 1S02, 
 Bv Thomas Y. Cuowell & Co. 
 
 C. J. PETERS & SON, 
 TYTOGEArilEKS ANT> Ei.EOTBOTYl'EES, 
 
 U5 HiGU Steeet, Boston. 
 
DEDICATED TO MY COMRADES 
 
 OF 
 
 .Scticjbirit Post Wo, \, 
 
 DEPARTMENT OF CONNECTICUT, 
 G. A. R. 
 
 602931 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 This story has reason for its existence only as 
 it teaches, illustrates, or emphasises some truth or 
 moral. 
 
 The author seeks to impress the youth of to- 
 day with the vital lessons of that grand conflict 
 which preserved the Union, — the patriotism, 
 self-sacrifice, and the heroic character of the 
 boys of '61 and '65 by whom this nation was 
 saved. 
 
 The most wonderful feature of that srreat war 
 is, that it was so largely the work of bo3''s; the 
 average age of those who fought its battles being 
 only twenty-two years. To teach the lesson of 
 their heroic lives by song or story is a sacred 
 duty. 
 
 This book aims to illustrate by truthful pictures 
 some of the noble deeds that have given to Ameri- 
 cans of to-day so much of enduring good. To keep 
 alive the memory of the boys who marched and 
 
 Yii 
 
viu PREFACE. 
 
 suffered and battled for their Country, is to help 
 preserve the greatness of the State, and to inspire 
 in other boys the sentiment of noble citizenship. 
 Patriotism thrives best v^^here it is best nourished, 
 and cannot be maintained where the memory of 
 those who suffered or died for the common good is 
 neglected. 
 
 That there was no hatred or malice in the hearts 
 of those who fought these battles, is shown by the 
 scenes at Vicksburg and Appomattox, where the 
 victorious boys in blue shared their food and drank 
 from the same canteen with their former foes, — 
 foes no longer, but fellow-countrymen restored to 
 their allegiance under the old flag. 
 
 The writer does not believe in unreal descrip- 
 tions, for a book that gives exaggerated views of 
 any phase of life is demoralizing in its tendencies. 
 If it seems inconsistent with these views that some 
 of the scenes of this book are intensely dramatic, 
 the reader must remember that war is di'amatic, 
 and an actual narration of its incidents must neces- 
 sarily be realistic. 
 
 To his gallant comrades of the armies of the 
 West tlie writer is indebted for many incidents and 
 personal reminiscences of that wonderful organiza- 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 tion, " the Army of the Tennessee," that fought at 
 Shiloh, conquered at Vicksburg, and marched with 
 Sherman " from Atlanta to the Sea." 
 
 The descriptions of army life in this volume 
 are the results of painstaking studies made by the 
 writer; and its scenes are mostly real. 
 
 While many of the characters are fictitious, 
 the author believes that his comrades in arms who 
 may chance to read these pages will see in them a 
 reflection of the faces they have known in their 
 marches and battles. 
 
 The author submits these pages with the hope 
 that the reading of them may inspire the youth of 
 to-day with the same love for their country that 
 animated the boys of '61 and '65 in restoring to 
 the Union those States without which the Republic 
 could not exist, or slavery have been abolished. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I AFTER PAG 15 
 
 I. Failure of Soap and Water Morality, 1 
 
 II. The Rights of Man vs. Wrong in Boys 13 
 
 III. The Results of a Dog-Fight. ... 25 
 
 IV. Westward Ho! 37 
 
 V. Up the Mississippi 48 
 
 VI. The Outlook for our Neav Home . . 61 
 
 VII. A New Home in the Wilderness . . 74 
 
 VII r. Preparing the Farm 86 
 
 IX. The Sod House 99 
 
 X. Hunting in Minnesota Ill 
 
 XI. Winter Scenes on the Prairie . . . 122 
 
 XII. From Peace to AVar 133 
 
 Xni. Learning to be a Soldier .... 146 
 
 XIV. From "Camp Can't Get Away" to 
 
 Shiloh 158 
 
 XV. Battlefield of Shiloh 174 
 
 XVI. Siege of Corinth 192 
 
 XVn. In Camp near Memphis 207 
 
 XVIII. Campaigning against Vicksburg . . 219 
 
 XIX. The Great Adventure of Arms . . 232 
 
 XX. Attack and Repulse 245 
 
 xi 
 
xii CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXI. The Tkuce and Aruest 269 
 
 XXII. Siege and Surrendek 271 
 
 XXIII. Scenes around Vicksburg 283 
 
 XXIV. After Vicksburg and Knoxville . . 296 
 XXV. On Veteran Furlough 310 
 
 XXVI. The Atlanta Campaign 320 
 
 XXVII. "In the Hands of the Enemy" . . 333 
 
 XXVIII. A Prisoner Loose in Dixie .... 344 
 
 XXIX. In the Swamps 356 
 
 XXX. The Hut of the Fugitive 368 
 
 XXXI. In the Hands of the Enemy .... 379 
 
 XXXII. Charleston Fair-Ground ..... 392 
 
 XXXIII. Florence Prison 405 
 
 XXXIV. From Darkness to Light 416 
 
I never did see a boj' that hated soap and water as this boy does!" 
 — Pase 1. 
 
TOM CLIFTON; 
 
 OR, WESTERN BOYS WITH GRANT 
 AND SHERMAN'S ARMY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FAILURE OF SOAP AND WATER MORALITY. 
 
 Aunt Mehitacle was getting me ready for 
 school. As a part of that getting ready she was 
 applying what seemed to me a needless amount of 
 strong soap and water, which got into my moulh 
 and eyes just in proportion as I attempted "to 
 protest. 
 
 " I never did see a boy that hated soap and Avater 
 as this boy does I " Here I attempted to wriggle 
 from her ; when she exclaimed, " You are just like 
 an eel ; hold still ! I declare, I shall have to scald 
 and scrape you with a clam-shell, as they do pigs 
 in killin'-time ! " 
 
 My father, who was the village minister, was 
 reading the Congregationalist . He looked up with 
 a haJ-f humorous smile, saying, " What's the mat- 
 ter ■with Tom this morning, Aunt Hitty?" 
 
 1 
 
2 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 " Matter ? Why, he gets into all the dirt and 
 mischief there is in the neighborhood ; and he 
 hates to be cleaned wus than any young one I ever 
 saw. See that patch of tar on his hands ! " 
 
 The tar, as she called it, was shoemakers' wax I 
 had got from Silas Eaton. ^' 
 
 " The soap gets into my eyes, and the water all 
 runs down my back " — I was going to explain 
 further, when a dose of the hated mixture filled my 
 mouth ; and the rest of my protest came in sounds 
 as if I was bubbling with woes and protests that 
 could not find articulate form. What reasonable 
 boy ever lived that did not hate soap and water 
 applied suddenly, or otherwise ? 
 
 My father smiled in a sad, deprecating way, and, 
 while wiping his spectacles, said, " I suppose. Aunt 
 Hitty, that all boys have uncivilized instincts ; 
 they have to be tamed and domesticated, in part, 
 like wild animals, before they become good mem- 
 bers of society. J was reading lately that missiona- 
 ries can do but little in Christianizing savages 
 until they have first caused them to be washed and 
 dressed. It is an acknowledged fact that personal 
 cleanliness is the best ally of moral purity ; it 
 seems to precede the Lord's Prayer in the alphabet 
 of social ethics, and it is constantly being demon- 
 strated that little can be done for the improvement 
 of morals, or in reaching the soul, until something 
 is first done to improve the body in which the soul 
 has its abode." My father, discovering that he 
 
SOAP AND WATER MORALITY. 3 
 
 had got, on his sermon tone, here dropped his voice, 
 saying, " So you see. Aunt Hitty, you are a mis- 
 sionary in your way." 
 
 " I don't know anything about that," said Aunt 
 Hitty; "but I believe my soul and body you'd 
 preach if the dirt was knee-deep on this boy ! " 
 (Aunt Hitty always "believed her soul and body" 
 when she desired to be emphatic.) " As for sav- 
 ages, I believe Man Friday was twice as easy to 
 civilize as this boy. He gets into the dirt as nat- 
 urally as a pig does. He and Garrison " (Garri- 
 son was a black Newfoundland dog, and for 
 brevity I called him Garry) " are the plague of 
 my life. They both of 'em take to water naturally 
 enough, though, when there's no soap in it, but 
 plenty of dirt." 
 
 This seemed to start unpleasant reminiscences 
 in my father's mind, for Centerboro was only 
 about fifteen miles from the sea, of which he 
 had a horror : for he was not a native of that place, 
 though a resident preacher for many years. Aunt 
 Hitty and my mother were both natives of a sea- 
 port town near, and my maternal grandfather and 
 Aunt Hitty's husband had both been lost at sea, — 
 my father said drowning seemed to them a natural 
 death, — while my brother Bill had run away to 
 sea two years before this narrative begins. My 
 father had never overcome his fear or repugnance 
 for the rough dangers of a seafaring life, by which, 
 as he expressed it, he was " encompassed about." 
 
4 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 He turned from my aunt with a sigh as he said, 
 " I suppose it is needful that men should go down 
 to the sea in ships, but it is a very dangerous vo- 
 cation, though some people seem to consider it a 
 natural condition." 
 
 " Yer father's as scart of water as a cat ; and I 
 believe he'd rather see yer chop wood for a livin' 
 than see ye the master of a ship," said Aunt Hitty 
 in a contemptuous undertone, as she smoothed my 
 hair, tied a sailor's knot in my silk necktie, settled 
 my stiffly starched collar (how that collar did chafe 
 my neck!) ; and then, with my chin in her hand, 
 she looked down admiringly into ray soap-burnished 
 face, and, as if half ashamed to show her feelings, 
 gently kissed me, and with a pleasant smile turned 
 me loose. 
 
 That that soap and water did not reach very 
 deep into my moral nature the incidents of the 
 morning proved. Of my father's four children, 
 I was my aunt's favorite. Notwithstanding the 
 scolding that accompanied leach morning's scrub- 
 bing, she, with what seemed to me singular incon- 
 sistency, expressed but little pleasure with those 
 who agreed with her when she censured me. 
 
 Mehitable Ryder was the widow of Captain 
 Joshua Ryder, who was lost at sea on a voyage to 
 Calcutta, while commanding a clipper ship. My 
 mother died before I could remember her gentle 
 influences, leaving two boys, myself and my brother 
 William, and two girls, Bess and Jane. My aunt 
 
SOAP AND WATER MORALITY. 5 
 
 had taken hold to "help bring up the family." 
 She had great respect for my father's goodness, 
 but little or no confidence in his practical wisdom. 
 To use her own expression, he was " a good man, 
 but no manager." He was immersed in books 
 and theology, instead of the practical things con- 
 nected with what my aunt termed " the bread-and- 
 butter question." 
 
 He was in ill health, which neither the climate 
 nor his sedentary habits improved. He had 
 started out in life with some property, increased 
 by my mother's portion in her father's estate; 
 but his liberality to poor parishioners, and want 
 of good management, had materially diminished 
 it. To use Aunt Hitty's expressive language, 
 we were "growing poorer and poorer every day 
 of our lives." My father often debated some 
 means for bettering his health and fortunes, but 
 none could be agreed upon until the incidents I 
 shall narrate forced him to make a change,^0r, as 
 Aunt Hitty said, not politely, " drove him out of 
 town." 
 
 On the morning in which this story opens, on 
 my way to school I played at bendy on the ice in 
 a painstaking, conscientious manner; stamped on 
 the frozen pools by the roadside ; sat down in the 
 wet to show the red bottoms of my new boots to 
 Dick Nickerson (for when the red wears off the 
 glory of a boy's boots departs) ; and then, hur- 
 ried by my sister Bess, started at a full run for 
 
6 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 school, with Garry barking at my heels. I had 
 not been very anxious to go to school that morn- 
 ing, and when the exercises opened with the sing- 
 ing of : — 
 
 " Our youthful hearts for learning burn, 
 Away, away to school," 
 
 I did not feel that it applied to my condition of 
 mind. 
 
 Uriah Johnson, a lank specimen of the Vermont 
 schoolmaster, was the presiding genius of the 
 winter term of the district school. He had prom- 
 ised me a whipping, and I was fearful that he 
 might keep his promise. 
 
 Upon his first assuming the duties of school- 
 master I had been a favorite pupil, and he had 
 overlooked some of my most mischievous pranks ; 
 but at a spelling-school, in an evil hour for me, I 
 had by a suggestion made him my enemy, for 
 which I can truthfully say I was not to blame. 
 For a boy of twelve I was a good speller, and on 
 one or two occasions had stood up " to be spelled 
 down " among the best spellers of the school, 
 most of them older than myself. 
 
 At the spelling-school in question Uriah John- 
 son was giving out words with unusual pomp, 
 when the members of the school began to go down 
 before the simple word " hen-house." I was one 
 of those who had been spelled down, and the rest 
 of the school were fast following. As I sat in 
 
SOAP AND WATER MORALITY. 7 
 
 amazement that so simple a word should go so far, 
 and wondering how words could so suddenly 
 change in spelling, an explanation occurred to me, 
 and I raised my hand as a signal that I had some- 
 thing to say, and inquired, "Isn't it heinous in- 
 stead of ' hen-house ' ? " 
 
 The master turned beet-red with confusion, and 
 the girls giggled, for the word was heinous. Since 
 that time I had fallen in Johnson's estimation to 
 such a degree that he had ceased to overlook my 
 mechanical device of crooking pins for others to 
 sit down on, cutting my initials on desks, and 
 mortising holes in my desk for confining vagrant 
 flies, and other such uses. So, as I had a new 
 knife, I was driven to other expedients in order 
 to make use of it during school-hours. 
 
 My cousin, who was five years my senior, and 
 who had been to sea, had just taught me that if I 
 attempted to open the blade of that knife with the 
 thumb nail of my right hand, while the knife was 
 held firmly with the blade upward in the left, the 
 blade of the knife, by some hocus-pocus, as he 
 termed it, would fly back and cut across the ball 
 of the thumb of the experimenter, in witness 
 whereof I had seen the mark. Not beinon selfish, 
 I was burning with ardor to communicate my 
 newly acquired knowledge. 
 
 When the master's attention was turned to tbe 
 first class in arithmetic, I whispered to my school- 
 mate that my knife could not be opened in the 
 
8 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 manner described. After cutting his thumb he 
 communicated with the boy across the aisle, and he, 
 having tested the experiment and gained knowl- 
 edge by the same process, spread it along a whole 
 row of seats, the occupants of which were sucking 
 their right thumbs and looking out of the corners 
 of their eyes to those who were getting knowledge 
 of the same character in experimental philosophy. 
 
 The scene was too ludicrous for me to restrain 
 my laughter ; and after several attempts to stifle 
 my appreciation of the scene, I finally snorted out 
 in such a way as to call the attention of the whole 
 school, the master included, to myself. He took 
 in the situation very quickly, and grasping me by 
 the collar pulled me into the middle of the floor, 
 while I was yet unable to control my laughing fit. 
 He there applied a switch until I " laughed out of 
 the other corner of my mouth," as he termed it. 
 
 I angrily protested by showing fight, for human 
 nature is large in a boy, at which Uriah literally 
 " mopped the floor with me," exclaiming, " I'll 
 learn yer to snigger," and then put me in the closet 
 under his high desk and turned the button. 
 
 This desk stood on a platform ift the rear of the 
 schoolroom opposite the door. There I was left to 
 reflect on my misdeeds. I did not find much that 
 was amusing in this closet. There was a long- 
 necked quart bottle half filled with ink, and in one 
 corner a spider's web. A large knot-hole in the 
 front of the desk would have given me a full view 
 
SOAP AND WATER MORALITY. 9 
 
 of the schoolroom but for the fact that its angle 
 of view was partially downward instead of straight, 
 so that my prospect was very limited. After a 
 little it ceased to interest me, and then, curiously 
 enough, my conscience, which up to that time I 
 had heard little from, began to trouble me. 
 
 I have often since observed that my conscience 
 has been most troublesome when isolation and 
 suffering have both given it a pretext for making 
 me miserable. From this I draw the inference 
 that solitude and suffering are both essentials in 
 producing repentance. I can remember at this 
 day the pangs I suffered at thought of the mild 
 but pained expression of my father's face, and 
 I even felt a twinge of remorse that the soap 
 and water morality of the morning had been 
 wasted. 
 
 This contrite mood was, however, driven away 
 by the voice of the master. The remembrance that 
 I had kicked and bitten him gave me a sort of 
 savage delight. A little considerate reasoning is 
 always more potent in reforming the conduct of 
 boys than brutal punishment, and even at this day 
 I cannot believe that the latent good that is in any 
 boy can be easily reached by violence. 
 
 In the midst of these conflicting reflections I 
 made a discovery which permanently diverted my 
 attention and conscience. I discovered that the 
 nose of the quart bottle, if inclined at an angle of 
 forty degrees, would go into the knot-hole. My 
 
10 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 first thought was to take out the cork and pour 
 the ink upon tlie floor below. Yet I was not 
 seriously tempted until the master darkened the 
 knot-hole with his person. Sitting with his back 
 towards me, and perilously near my knot-hole, he 
 called the class in geography. The lesson that day, 
 if I rightly remember, was on the rivers of New 
 England. In any case it was something about the 
 course of rivers, for he began in his grating, dicta- 
 torial tones a kind of chant as follows : — 
 
 " Connecticut, — Connecticut rises in Connecti- 
 cut Lake, 
 
 " And flows south four hundred miles, 
 
 " Between New Hampshire and Vermont, 
 
 " Through Massachusetts and Connecticut, 
 
 " And into Long Island Sound." 
 
 My heart throbbed painfully with conflicting 
 feelings. Something said, " Think how it will pain 
 your good father ! What will your Aunt Hitty 
 say ? Don't do it, Tom ! " 
 
 As I heard Uriah Johnson's categorical tones, 
 the desire to astonish and punish him was so great 
 that I was no longer master of my ^own actions. 
 I felt that I could not help myself if I died for it. 
 He had just reached " Connecticut, and flows into 
 Long Island Sound," and, as fate would have it, 
 the top of his yellow head was just under my 
 knot-hole. I removed the cork from the bottle, 
 thrust the neck through the hole, and the dark 
 flood poured down over his head, his collar, and 
 
SOAP AND WATER MORALITY. 11 
 
 coat. The master jumped up with a terrified yell, 
 not knowing what had befallen him, and the girls 
 screamed. My sister Bess fainted (she always 
 fainted and does to this day on state occasions). 
 I had moved away from the knot-hole as if 
 to escape the consequences, which were much 
 more dramatic than I had anticipated, and in so 
 doing struck the door of my prison and it burst 
 open. 
 
 For a moment I did not understand my deliver- 
 ance, but soon seeing, what my father would 
 have termed a providential leading in it, in the 
 confusion I got out of the schoolhouse, and lost 
 no time in reaching the house of my married 
 sister, where in times of trouble I had often 
 before taken refuge. 
 
 To my sister Jane and her husband, Captain 
 Jonathan Atkins, I made a clean breast of the 
 whole affair, and felt relieved at my confession. 
 
 During the recital the}^ had both laughed until 
 the tears came to their eyes ; but at its con- 
 clusion, Captain Jonathan said, — 
 
 "Youngster, you are in a scrape, and you'd 
 better lay low till the squall blows over. You've 
 done so much skylarkin', that if I was ready to 
 sail I'd advise yer to slip yer cable and go a 
 voyage with me, for if that schoolmaster gets 
 ahold of yer, he'll keelhaul yer, as sure as yer 
 live. I'm awful sorry for the parson. I guess, 
 Jennie, I'll go over and see him now, and spin 
 
12 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 the yarn before anybody else can get a bight on 
 him. Better hear it from me than some one else 
 less impartial." 
 
 I did not understand the term "keelhauling;" 
 but I did dread meeting my father, and the 
 thought of it was worse than any other possible 
 punishment. 
 
RIGHTS OF MAN VS. WRONG IN BOYS. 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE RIGHTS OF MAN VS. WRONG IN BOYS. 
 
 The reader may infer from the previous chapter 
 that I was what may be termed a terror. A veri- 
 table bad boy, — as ministers' sons, in spite of, and 
 I sometimes think because of, good examples often 
 become. It may naturally be supposed that the 
 incidents I have narrated created a commotion. In 
 an isolated inland village like Centerboro, any- 
 thing which concerned the minister or schoolmaster 
 was duly talked over; and the collision between 
 the minister's son and so important a person as 
 Uriah Johnson became a matter of great conse- 
 quence, and was a subject of gossip in every house 
 in the neighborhood. 
 
 I had been severely punished by my father for 
 my misdeeds, but the worst punishment to me was 
 the sight of his sorrowful face. Aunt Mehitable 
 scolded me for my "capers," as she called them, 
 but would allow no one else in her hearing to 
 censure me. 
 
 Among those of his parish with whom my father 
 was not in accord, was Deacon Eli Weston, who 
 was also a member of the school committee. The 
 deacon was very impatient of contradiction, yet 
 
14 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 very fond of controversy. My father was peaceful, 
 — not fond of debate, but on matters of principle 
 was what Silas Eaton the shoemaker called "very 
 sot." 
 
 The year of which I write, 1854, was one of 
 great political excitement in Massachusetts, a time 
 in which the conscience of our people was in collis- 
 ion with their financial interests ; when justice 
 and right were arrayed on one side, against trade 
 with the South on the other. 
 
 My father, God bless his memorj'-, was an anti- 
 slavery man, while the deacon was a pro-slavery 
 man, or one who professed not only to believe in 
 the right of men to hold slaves, but also in the 
 right to catch them when they ran away, and to 
 extend the area of slavery wherever tlie national 
 flag waved. Shameful as at this date it may ap- 
 pear, a vast number in our Northern communities 
 were of the deacon's manner of thought. 
 
 By the passage of the Nebraska Bill in 1854 a 
 vast tract of territory lying between the Missouri 
 River and the Rocky Mountains, larger in area 
 than Great Britain, France, and Spain, had been 
 thrown open to slaverj^ though previously by the 
 Missouri Compromise Act it had been especially 
 dedicated to freedom. It only remained to secure 
 Federal protection to slave property in transit in 
 the free States, to complete the pro-slavery mastery 
 of the entire Union. This Act may be said to have 
 been the beginning of our great Civil War. 
 
RIGHTS OF MAN VS. WRONG IN BOYS. 15 
 
 Two daj's after the passage of this Act, Anthony 
 Burns was arrested in Boston as a fugitive sLave 
 from Virginia, and the popular sentiment and in- 
 terest in this subject were intense. Our little town 
 in part reflected the sentiment of the metropolis 
 but a few miles distant. 
 
 During the excitement, the fact of the Court 
 House in Boston being surrounded with chains 
 to keep back the multitude that surrounded it 
 was seized upon by Abolition orators, and Wen- 
 dell Phillips, in a speech of great dramatic power, 
 used for his topic " The Court House in Chains." 
 The papers opposed to making Massachusetts a 
 slave hunting-ground, abounded in similar head- 
 lines. Commissioner Loring, a Massachusetts 
 judge, gave the order for sending back Anthony 
 Burns to slavery. This was considered by many 
 to be a disgraceful act. 
 
 While yet this question was a topic of conver- 
 sation, father met the deacon in the village post- 
 office and grocery. " What do yer think of these 
 Boston abolitionists, pa'son, defyin' the law and 
 Constitution, and makin' such a row 'bout sendin' 
 back that nigger to his master? " 
 
 My father for an answer took from his pocket a 
 Bible and read, " ' If a man be found stealing any 
 of his brethren of the children of Israel, and maketh 
 merchandise of him, or selleth him ; then that 
 thief shall die.' " 
 
 "Ahem, well, pa'son, neow you don't think that 
 
16 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 applies to that nigger, neow say, do you, pa'son ? '* 
 said the deacon. 
 
 " This Anthony Burns," replied my father 
 gravely, "is a member of the Christian church, and 
 is your brother in Christ, and Christ has said, ' In- 
 asmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of 
 these my brethren, ye have done it unto me,' " and, 
 not caring to enter into further controversy, he 
 walked out, leaving the deacon to consider the 
 question. 
 
 The next Sunday after this encounter my father 
 had preached a sermon on the " duty of the Chris- 
 tian church in the free States," that caused a great 
 commotion, because he claimed that this was not 
 politics, but practical Christian teachings which it 
 was his duty to preach. 
 
 Said my father, " It enables the political body 
 to which we belong, no matter how wicked or 
 weak, to make any man an outcast, and as having 
 no significance as a man. Man is not the creature 
 of the State; he has rights that date before all 
 charters and communities, eternal as the powers 
 and laws of his being." 
 
 Heedless as I may appear to have been at that 
 time, these views made a powerful impression on 
 my mind, and were the seeds which afterwards 
 bore fruit in largely influencing my life, by mak- 
 ing me a soldier in the Civil War and a^ friend of 
 the slave. 
 
 The deacon and his party (for these sentiments 
 
RIGHTS OF MAN VS. WRONG IN BOYS. 17 
 
 produced a division in the church) professed to 
 believe that the minister's teachings defied the 
 laws of the land and the Constitution of the United 
 States. I do not here propose to discuss the sub- 
 ject, except so far as it influenced the deacon and 
 changed the current of my after-life, and influenced 
 the events of which this story is a history. 
 
 My mischievous pranks (which were wholly 
 wrong), and my father's high moral position on 
 the slavery question (which was wholly right), 
 combined to produce a serious discord in my 
 father's parish, so that he began to feel that his 
 usefulness as a minister in that town was at an 
 end. 
 
 Uriah Johnson was a political weathercock — 
 all things to all men. When he was with the 
 deacon he was a pro-slavery man ; when talking 
 with my father he was a friend to the slave. 
 
 After the events narrated in the first chapter, 
 the master was very angry. He called on the 
 deacon, and, after assenting to his most pronounced 
 pro-slavery views, interested the deacon in his 
 grievances, and requested him, as a member of the 
 school committee, to call on the Reverend William 
 Clifton and ask him to correct and punish me. 
 
 With this in view, the deacon had put on his 
 best suit and his high starched collar, and had 
 started to call my father to an account for the 
 moral and legal heinousness of my offences, and 
 incidentally to discuss the slavery question and the ' 
 tariff. 
 
18 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 It was just about sundown when I saw the deacon 
 coming up the driveway leading to the j)arsonage, 
 which stood a little back from the main street. On 
 one side of this driveway was a stone wall, on the 
 other a fence, and it was my evil destiny to have 
 a strong string attached to the fence, about a foot 
 from the ground, at the upper end of the driveway 
 nearest the house. 
 
 When I saw the deacon coming: I was beliind the 
 wall, through a chink of which I had run the string. 
 This was slackened and lay on the ground ready 
 to be pulled taut for the entertainment of a certain 
 Dick Nickerson, whom I had invited to call on me. 
 Dick was about my age, and had entertained me in 
 a similar manner a number of times. 
 
 When I saw the deacon, with his red face pro- 
 truding over his high collar, strutting up the road, 
 talking to himself, and beaming with anticipation 
 of the unpleasantness of his mission, in a moment 
 of terrible temptation I forgot myself and all my 
 good resolutions, and pulled the string taut just as 
 the deacon reached it, and sent him sprawling to 
 the ground. The string had broken and been 
 quickly pulled through the chink, and I think 
 he would have never known the cause of his down- 
 fall had I been able to keep back an unfortunate 
 snicker at his very untheological and amusing 
 exclamations. 
 
 The deacon was a very tall, athletic man, and, 
 hearing my snorts of laughter, looked over the wall, 
 
Tripping up the deacon. — Page IS. 
 
RIGHTS OF MAN VS. WRONG IN BOYS. 19 
 
 seized me, and lifted me bodily into the driveway, 
 and with one hand hokling my coUar, applied the 
 toe of his thick cow-hide winter boot to that part 
 of the boy which is most in danger when he is 
 most in mischief, and in this way propelled me to- 
 wards the house. My father, hearing ray screams, 
 — for the deacon's temper and muscle were both 
 well developed, — rushed to the door, and saw the 
 deacon and me coming up. 
 
 "I'll teach yer, yer young Satan's deer-trap, yer 
 catamount yer, to play pranks on and assault yer 
 betters ! " he yelled. 
 
 My father was shocked, both at the deacon's lan- 
 guage, and at his taking it upon himself to punish 
 me for my faults in school, for that was the under- 
 standing he had of the deacon's language. 
 
 " Deacon Weston, why do you beat my boy, and 
 use unseemly language ? " exclaimed my father. 
 
 " The young scamp has been assaulting his 
 elders," replied the deacon wrathfuUy. 
 
 My father, still thinking that his remarks applied 
 to my affair with the school-teacher, replied, " I 
 am well aware of it. Deacon Weston, and I assure 
 you he has been severely punished." 
 
 " Well, yes," said the deacon, with a grin of 
 satisfaction ; " he has been punished moderately 
 well, according to my age and strength ; but if I 
 had had a good cow-hide whip I'd try a little more 
 correction on the young scamp." And he wiped 
 off the blood from his big nose, which he had hurt 
 in his fall. - 
 
20 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 M}^ father expostulated with the deacon again, 
 when he angrily retorted, " Yer see, pa'son, what 
 your doctrine of defiance of the laws has led to ! 
 Yer boy is a sample of the work ye are doing in 
 teaching our people to disregard the law." 
 
 My father understood this allusion to his sermon 
 and his anti-slavery views, and warmly replied, " He 
 who attacks the strong, deacon, shows a courage 
 which does something to redeem his violence ; but 
 to tread on the neck of the weak is to add mean- 
 ness to wrong." 
 
 " Yer justify this boy in his attacks on a man of 
 character in this community, then, do ye, pa'son ? " 
 exclaimed the deacon wrathfully. 
 
 "No," replied father; "I spoke in general 
 terms, on general principles ; for where injustice 
 and oppression are potent God has no empire, and 
 then, as some ancient sect taught, it is truly the 
 empire of the principle of evil, — of the power of 
 darkuess." 
 
 " Well, pa'son, I thrashed that boy on general 
 principles, and in a general way, for the general 
 mischief he has done, confound him ! " said the 
 deacon, with just a touch of humor in his wrath. 
 
 By this time Deacon Weston had got into the 
 sitting-room, where a light revealed his wounded 
 nose. My father's anger gave way to pity when 
 he saw the deacon's wounded condition, and he 
 called out, " Mehitable ! Mehitable ! Get a basin 
 of warm water and some sticking-plaster : the dea- 
 con is wounded." 
 
RIGHTS OF MAN VS. WRONG IN BOYS. 21 
 
 My aunt and sister Bess, who had not heard fhe 
 disturbance, came ; and my father's compassionate 
 inquiries, seconded by my aunt's attempts to learn 
 the cause of the injury, mollified the deacon's wrath 
 so that he began to understand that my father had 
 not recognized the cause of his outbursts of tem- 
 per. The deacon, pleased to be the centre of so 
 mucli attention, explained my misconduct towards 
 him. I had meanwhile escaped, sore and con- 
 science-stricken at the trouble my father was likely 
 to have on my account. 
 
 But for an unfortunate discussion of the slavery 
 question which ensued, I believe peace might have 
 been declared, notwithstanding my aunt was very 
 angry when she heard of the deacon's attack on my 
 person. I never knew the cause ; but the dea- 
 con left the parsonage in but little better humor 
 than he entered, yet he intimated his opinion 
 that my father's days of usefulness as a minister 
 in that neighborhood were over, — a sentiment with 
 which my fatlier, after mature deliberation, agreed. 
 
 He then made his decision to change his field of 
 labor as soon as he could make proper arrange- 
 ments. 
 
 The day following the deacon's visit he formally 
 took me from school, apologizing for my misdeeds; 
 and on the Sunday following announced to his 
 church his purpose to leave the parish of which, 
 for twenty-five years, he had had charge. He did 
 not decide to what place he should remove, until. 
 
22 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 during the next week, he received the following 
 letter from my Uncle John, written at St. Paul, 
 Minnesota : — 
 
 St. Paul, 1854. 
 Dear Brother, — I have often urged you to come out 
 here with your family to live, and when I received your letter 
 I thought to answer it in a day or two, but two weeks have 
 elapsed without my getting to it. I feel anxious to have 
 you come West, and am convinced that you will be better 
 satisfied in the end than to remain where you are. Nothing 
 can be more certain than that St. Paul in a very few j^ears 
 will be a great city, like St. Louis or some other of our 
 Western cities. You may count on three great cities on the 
 Mississippi, — New Orleans, St. Louis, and St. Paul. The 
 climate here will be just what you need ; and it is morally 
 impossible for one to fail in faithfully venturing almost any 
 business or profession for a livelihood in a place like this. 
 The prospect for your children in this great West is cer- 
 tainly far better than in the East. If I knew you would 
 come, I could now secure a house for you. I will help you 
 in every manner possible, in whatever direction you wish 
 to act. Yours, 
 
 John Cufton. 
 
 This letter, followed by other correspondence 
 during the succeeding weeks, was the means of 
 persuading my father and Aunt Mehitable to re- 
 move to the great and then comparatively unknown 
 Northwest. 
 
 My father preached his farewell sermon the fol- 
 lowing January, and before another month we were 
 well on our way to New York, preliminary to going 
 to Minnesota. 
 
RIGHTS OF MAN VS. WRONG IN BOYS. 23 
 
 I should fail to do justice to the neighborhood 
 in which we lived, if I did not say that on learning 
 my father's intentions the current of public opin- 
 ion which had set against him turned and ran 
 furiously in the opposite direction. Even the deacon 
 came and urged him still to tarry with the church, 
 and intimated even to me that he had known very 
 unruly boys to make good men. 
 
 My misdeeds were forgotten or overlooked by 
 all except Uriah Johnson, who apparently thought 
 them too serious to be overlooked. 
 
 So when we left town my aunt said, " Them that 
 had jawed the worst, butter wouldn't melt in their 
 mouths ; " while my brother-in-law declared we 
 were "leaving with flying colors." Many of my 
 father's parishioners came to labor witli him to in- 
 duce him to remain in the service of the church; 
 but he remained firm, declaring that both his health 
 and waning fortunes, as well as differences with 
 his church on moral questions, determined him to 
 persist in his intentions. 
 
 Before leaving Centerboro my father received 
 from Uncle John the following letter of directions 
 in regard to the trip. 
 
 St. Paul, 1855. 
 Dear Brother William, — You asked in yonr last letter 
 what would be the best route, and if you would be liable 
 to be imposed upon. I think, with your characteristics, 
 you are more likely to impose upon yourself than to be im- 
 posed upon. No man who minds his own business and uses 
 
24 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 tlie precautions which all tvavellers should use, will be 
 troubled with imiDositions. It is just as pleasant a journey 
 as a man would wish to take with his family. As you start 
 trom New York, you had better take the Erie Railroad to 
 the Lakes. When you reach Lake Erie you can keep right 
 on by railroad, or take a steamer to Detroit, and then the 
 railroad to Chicago, and on to Galena, or a little farther, to 
 some other point on the Mississippi River. When on the 
 cars you can stop over night at some city, if you lind that you 
 are getting tired out, and then resume the trip the next day. 
 The fii'st night you had better stop in Albany, and the next 
 in Buffalo. When you reach the IMississippi secure a good 
 stateroom on the boat. Should you find a boat just leav- 
 ing, and the staterooms all taken, wait for another boat. 
 Go on a regular mail-steamer, as the passage will be made 
 quicker, and you will probably have better fare. On the 
 railroad I think you may pass your children for half-fare. 
 On the steamer, unless you prompt them to do so, they will 
 charge you nothing for children. You cannot come with 
 them to the first table in any case, whether you pay for 
 them or not. Now, William, it looks like a great under- 
 taking to you to come to Minnesota, but when you get here 
 the trip will have proved a pleasant excursion. I do not 
 think it will be best for you to bring any freight except 
 trunks, — you can bring any number of them by paying a 
 little extra on the cars ; on the steamer it does not matter 
 how many you have. Bring all the money you can com- 
 mand with you. If you have an}- you do not wish to use, 
 you can get twenty per cent interest on it, and good real 
 estate security. With love to all, 
 
 Affectionately, 
 
 John Clifton. 
 
THE RESULTS OF A DOG-FIGHT. 25 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE RESULTS OF A DOG-FIGHT. 
 
 My father was sad at leaving the scene of so 
 many years' fruitful ministry, and Aunt Mehitable 
 declared that "she felt as if she was being pulled 
 up by the roots." He, with careworn face and so- 
 ber looks and words, methodically made his prepa- 
 rations for departure, and during the following 
 months sold all his household goods, except those 
 which could be packed in trunks. The old house 
 looked as desolate as though some vagrant cyclone 
 had enviously denuded it of all its homelike, com- 
 fortable features. 
 
 To me it was a time of excitement and anticipa- 
 tion. The young look out on the world and see, 
 through a halo of hopefulness, all that is delightful. 
 The unknown to them is full of glowing possibili- 
 ties, and the scenes of the world are broad and al- 
 luring. As we grow older, the world seemingl}" 
 shrinks both in its capacity for yielding enjoyment 
 and novelties, as well as in its area. We begin 
 to learn, with advancing age, " What shadows all 
 are we, and what shadows we pursue." 
 
 At that period of my life 1 saw but few shadows. 
 
26 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 for the world, to me, was aglow with light and joy- 
 ousness. The only shadows of those days were 
 those cast upon me by my father's saddened face. 
 
 Finally our preparations were made. A large 
 number of our friends and neighbors gathered at 
 the depot to bid us good-by. It was a great com- 
 fort to my father that at the last moment his parish 
 people showed so much sorrow at his departure 
 and solicitude for liis welfare. 
 
 At last the engine-bell rang, and the shu, shu, shu, 
 of the train in motion showed me we were leaving 
 the station. The fences and houses seemed to 
 glide backward ; the familiar scenes melted away, 
 and new ones took their place. 
 
 It was the winter of 1855 when we began our 
 journey to New York, where my father had en- 
 gaged to do some city missionary work until spring. 
 
 Our route was by the way of Fall River, where 
 we were to take the boat for New York. I had 
 never before seen a steamboat, and the decorations 
 of this one seemed rich and luxurious beyond my 
 most fervid dreams of the palace which the genii 
 built at Aladdin's command. The cushioned chairs 
 I felt were too fine to sit upon. When we arrived 
 in New York City, the clamor and calls of hack- 
 men, the rattle of teams and confusion of the 
 streets, brought vividly to my mind a sermon I 
 o/ice heard my father preach, on the confusion 
 which took place at the Tower of Babel, when the 
 multitudes could not understand each other, and 
 
THE RESULTS OF A DOG-FIGHT. 27 
 
 confusion and misunderstandings of all kinds 
 occurred. 
 
 Aunt Mehitable had friends in Brooklyn, and by 
 their invitation she remained with them for several 
 months, until my father made preparations for our 
 final departure to the Northwest. I accompanied him 
 about the city, which to me was a constant source 
 of wonder and amusement, and soon became accus- 
 tomed to the hurry which so marked the life of its 
 crowded thoroughfares. 
 
 I did not think it strange at the time, but in 
 thinking it over as I write, I can see that there 
 must have been something in my father's face to 
 attract beggars and suffering people. Many times 
 he was stopped by pleas for charity ; and, as he had 
 not become hai-dened to city beggars, nor accus- 
 tomed to consider every one who approached him 
 as an impostor (as city people, even clergymen, 
 often do), he listened to them as patiently as he 
 would to a member of his own church, advising, and 
 sometimes procuring for them food and comforts. 
 
 " After all," said my father, when Aunt Hitty 
 scolded him for giving away his own money, " they 
 belong to God's parish, and Holy Writ has said, — as 
 if marking this feature of life for our attention, — 
 'The poor ye have always with you,' and it seems 
 to me that these cases of suffering are an appointed 
 part of life, that our sympathies may not becom^ 
 deadened by selfishness." 
 
 " That's all very well," said Aunt Hitty, " but 
 
28 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 who's goin' to help you and 3^our family, when you 
 haven't a cent in your pocket ? " 
 
 " The Lord will provide," said my father rever- 
 ently, to which Aunt Hitty replied by an expres- 
 sive " Humph ! The Lord helps them that help 
 themselves, William." 
 
 " Yes," replied father with a far-away look in 
 his eyes; "in one way, but there are other helps 
 than earthly ones." 
 
 One da}^ father was buying a newspaper at a 
 corner stand, when I got among some newsboys 
 who, after the manner of their kind, began to chaff 
 and hustle me, and as I started away, one put out 
 his foot to trip me up, and another attempted to 
 seize my hat. 
 
 Garry, who had accompanied us, thinking this 
 not just the thing, rushed to my defence with a 
 bark and growl, whereupon a bull-dog, owned by 
 one of the boys, accepted the challenge on his own 
 account, and a big dog-fight was soon in progress* 
 
 The country boy, as well as the country dog, 
 was in danger of being worsted, when my father 
 came to the rescue. Garrison, seeing his master, 
 resumed his confidence, while my father tugged at 
 his tail, trying to separate the contestants, until 
 Garry was so close under my father's feet as nearly 
 to trip him up. 
 
 The fight was progressing, when a little fellow, 
 dressed in a threadbare suit of corduroy, dropped 
 a bundle of papers, and with a confident tone and 
 
THE RESULTS OF A DOG-FIGHT. 29 
 
 manner said, " Ain't ye ashamed of yerselves, 
 byes ? " and pushing right and left vigorously seized 
 the bull-dog by the collar, twisting it until the dog's 
 eyes seemed starting from his head, and holding 
 him firmly, notwithstanding his struggles. 
 
 My father turned to Garry and myself, saying 
 reproachfully, " You see the trouble you've caused 
 me. What would they say in Centerboro to know 
 that a minister of the gospel had been engaged in 
 an unseemly dog-fight ? Ah ! I forgot that brave 
 little fellow that quelled the fight, and that savage 
 creature that attacked Garrison." 
 
 My father shook hands heartily with the little 
 Irish lad, saying, " You are a brave little fellow ; 
 a peacemaker. What is your name ? " 
 
 " Matt Ryan, sur ; an' sure it's a piecemaker I'd 
 a bin ; I'd a knocked 'em into bits if they hadn't 
 stopped at onct, sur." 
 
 My father thanked him heartily, and the little 
 fellow's face glowed with conscious pride, through 
 all the dirt, at this tribute to his courage. 
 
 A policeman just then put in an appearance, 
 with the characteristic intention of arresting all 
 the inoffensive members of the party. My father 
 explained the cause of the disturbance ; but I fear 
 this would have been of little avail had not his 
 friend, the merchant for whom he was doing- mis- 
 sionary work, have come up and interceded in his 
 behalf. We were just turning away, when a yell 
 of dismay came from Matt% 
 
30 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 "Och hone ! Oh murther! They've taken me 
 papers ! Oh the thaves I " and Matt's eyes were 
 blazing with wrath, for his stock of Tribunes., and 
 Heralds which he had put down by the side of a 
 doorway, to enable him to participate in my row, 
 had been stolen. 
 
 " Oh, but why didn't I keep me oie on the 
 thaves, when I was a-choking Jim McMurphy's 
 big purp, sur? " 
 
 " How much did your stock of papers cost ? " 
 said ni}- father. 
 
 " They cost me twinty-five cints, sur, and it was 
 the last cint I had, and all me mither could scrape 
 togither this marnin. And it's meself that ought 
 to have bin scratching around instid of dog-fighting 
 for yez, sur," said Matt, with the suspicion of a tear 
 in his eye. 
 
 Father gave Matt a silver dollar ; but Matt 
 returned it, saying, " I'm not a beggar, sur, and 
 mither says I mustn't take money, but if ye can 
 lind me twinty-five cents for the day I'll return it, 
 sur." 
 
 "No," said my father ; "you've lost your papers 
 as well as your time, to help Tom, who has a genius 
 for getting into trouble, and it's my duty ta make 
 good your losses. So here is fifty cents." 
 
 " That's square, sur," said Matt, looking up with 
 his pinched, but bright and confident face, now all 
 smiles again, 
 
 " But," said my father, " if you haven't got but 
 
THE RESULTS OF A DOG-FIGHT, 31 
 
 that twenty-five cents you must be extremely 
 poor." 
 
 "It's poor we are, sur," replied Matt. "Me 
 mither can't work fur the baby, and we can't find 
 me father." 
 
 As the result of this conversation father took 
 the address which Matt gave him, and promised to 
 call and see him and his mother. 
 
 On our way to the Bible House, my father was 
 very thoughtful and absent, but an exclamation or 
 occasional word gave me a clew to his thoughts. 
 " A child like that to be in the streets of this 
 great city ! God's little ones without a home ! " 
 and then a sigh, as if the misery and woe of the 
 great city oppressed and anguished him like a 
 nightmare. 
 
 In the afternoon, when we were returning to 
 Brooklyn, my father remembered his promise to 
 call on Matt and his mother. We turned into a 
 dirty alley-way, and inquired of the ragged chil- 
 dren clustering around where Matt lived. A blear- 
 eyed, dirty woman said, " Give me tin cints for a 
 pint of beer, and I'll tell you, sur." 
 
 I do not know as we would ever have found 
 Matt, had he not, during the search, appeared from 
 a door near us. His first exclamation on seeing 
 us was, " Och hone ! me mither is sick, and the 
 baby is did, and we have no doctor, and nothing to 
 eat at all, at all, sur." The last part of the sen- 
 tence was broken by sobs, and emphasized by a 
 
32 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 little wail which it would be impossible to express 
 in print. 
 
 " Where is it you live ? " asked my father. 
 
 " Och, we don't live at all, at all ! Me mither 
 and the baby that's did are just staying down here 
 a bit ; and it's not living, but dying, that they are," 
 said Matt, now actually howling with grief. 
 
 There was something grotesque as well as 
 pathetic in the newsboy's exclamations. He led 
 us into the cellar-like basement room where he 
 lived. There was no fire, and the light entered 
 only through a small window. 
 
 "Is that you, Matt?" said a weak voice; and, 
 when our eyes became accustomed to the gloom, 
 we saw the wasted form of a young-looking woman 
 lying on a mattress spread on the floor in a corner. 
 A single chair, an old stove, and a few cooking- 
 utensils were its only furniture. 
 
 The woman's story, briefly told, was that they 
 had been in this country only a few months. That 
 Matt's father had preceded them, and had sent 
 money for them to come, but that while on the 
 steamer they had lost the address and directions 
 he had sent to them, and so they had remained in 
 New York until they could receive new directions 
 from Ireland. But the parish priest who had 
 written the letters to Ryan for them, had written 
 that he was unable to remember the address, only 
 that it was in some Western State, and that they 
 must remain in New York until he heard from 
 
THE RESULTS OF A DOG-FIGHT. 33 
 
 Ryan again, who would, of course, write to him, 
 the priest, if they did not arrive at the expected 
 time. 
 
 "An sure, sur, it's been a whole six months, and 
 it seems as it had been forever," said Matt's mother. 
 
 My father's face lit up with sympathy at the 
 pathetic narrative, and he said, " Tom, you and I 
 will go out," and then, seeing the woman's wistful 
 look, " We will return soon ; and Matt, you must 
 stay with your mother, until we come back." 
 
 When we got out into the squalid streets my 
 father said, " The poor woman needs nourishing 
 food and cleanly surroundings more than medi- 
 cines, and I'm going to get both, Tom." 
 
 We soon returned with wood for a fire, meat and 
 groceries. 
 
 Gratitude is sometimes speechless ; and when 
 these things were brought in neither made any 
 demonstration until we had kindled the fire, when 
 Matt's mother began to cry, and Matt in sympathy 
 uttered a veritable wail, that surpassed the morn- 
 ing's performance. The woman soon sat up and 
 ate a few mouthfuls, and then looked around the 
 room by the light of the candle we had lighted. 
 My father then sent Matt to the proper authorities 
 to inform them of the death of the little child, so 
 that preparations might be made for its burial. 
 
 On our arrival home my father gave a descrip- 
 tion of the scene to his friends, and one of them, 
 a wealthy merchant, promised to help the woman 
 
34 rOM CLIFTON. 
 
 and her son, and to send them West, if they wished 
 to go, as settlers, with our party. 
 
 After the funeral of the child, which my father 
 attended, the subject of going West was broached 
 to Mrs. Ryan and Matt, and they were told of 
 the merchant's proposition to advance the needful 
 money, with the understanding that they were to 
 repay it when able. The priest, whom we had 
 met at the funeral, agreed with my father that it 
 was the best thing that Matt and his mother could 
 do, and he also promised to give some assistance to 
 that end. 
 
 " But," said he, " there are so many poor and 
 helpless ones in this great city, God help them, 
 that one can hardly give without being reproached 
 by some more destitute case." 
 
 The priest promised to forward to an address 
 which was to be given him, any letters that might 
 come from across the sea to Mrs. Ryan. By my 
 father's representations much sympathy was ex- 
 cited for Matt and his mother. 
 
 Young as I was, I noticed curiously that elo- 
 quent words excited more sympathy, and were of 
 more eifect in procuring help, than were the scenes 
 of misery by which the people of the great city of 
 New York were surrounded. 
 
 It was as if they were incapable of seeing its 
 miseries themselves in a proper light, unless re- 
 flected through some person of sympathetic nature, 
 who made them see with his eyes and feel with 
 his heart. 
 
THE RESULTS OF A DOG-FIGHT. 35 
 
 " With all the wealth of a great city," said my 
 father, " where hurrying feet attest the haste for 
 this world's goods, there is one more priceless 
 treasure than all their gain, — the power to sym- 
 pathize with God's poor who mingle with them on 
 every hand." 
 
 This phase of the great city made a deep im- 
 pression on even my thoughtless mind. My father 
 called my attention to the fact that those who, 
 surrounded by wealth and luxuries, seemed to 
 have all that the heart could desire, were less sat- 
 isfied and less thankful to God than the poorest 
 people whom we had known. 
 
 " There seems something inherent in human 
 nature," he said, "that the heart is never satisfied 
 with attainments of wealth and pomp ; we cannot 
 serve two masters, God and Mammon. The king- 
 dom of heaven cometh not with observation. 
 I have often thought, that appreciation of the 
 good we have in life is truer wealth than great 
 possessions." 
 
 In a few days it was fully arranged that Matt 
 and his mother should accompany us to St. Paul, 
 and there, with us, make a new and more comfort- 
 able home. Employment was meanv/hile found 
 for Matt, and a comfortable home for his mother. 
 Thus it was that our little party was increased 
 from four to six members, when, in the following 
 spring, we began our journey. 
 
 " The great West has been receding from us 
 
36 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 year by year," said my father. " A few years ago 
 New York and Pennsylvania were spoken of as 
 the West, now the West has receded until it 
 threatens to slide into the Pacific and disappear 
 among the islands of the sea." 
 
WESTWARD HO! 37 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 WESTWARD HO I 
 
 All was in a bustle of preparation for our jour- 
 ney. Aunt Hitty scolded with her usual persis- 
 tency. " My soul and body ! " she exclaimed with 
 a sigh. " What a man of education and respecta- 
 bility wants to go out thar and fool around with 
 injuns and sich trash for, 's more than I can under- 
 stand." 
 
 " What makes you go, Aunt Hitty ? " asked a 
 little New York cousin. 
 
 " What makes me go ? That's a pretty ques- 
 tion I What'U they do without me ? Your Uncle 
 William hasn't a particle of management. The 
 Injuns would scalp the man and he'd never know 
 it! He'd come home without his head on his 
 shoulders if some one didn't look out for him ; and 
 Tom, heaven knows is wild and uncivilized enousfh 
 without 'sociating with Injuns. Lor ! but men 
 ain't fit to take care of themselves anyway," and 
 Aunt Hitty bustled around, punctuating her re- 
 marks with pinches of snuff. 
 
 My aunt had been to see the ^'■furriners^''^ as she 
 called Matt and his mother, and had assisted in 
 
B8 rOM CLIFTON. 
 
 cutting and making some plain substantial cloth- 
 ing for Mrs. Ryan, who was a very quiet little 
 woman, and who showed herself touched and 
 thankful for what was being done for her. Matt 
 was so busy in his endeavor to assist, that my aunt 
 declared that he was as good as a man to help. 
 
 While I liked and admired Matt, I could not 
 understand why he should desire to leave so fasci- 
 nating an employment as selling newspapers and 
 blacking boots, even to see the uncivilized Indians 
 of the wild West. 
 
 It was in April, 1855, when our party finally 
 started on their Western journey. In those days 
 there Avere but few of the conveniences of travel 
 that now exist. Sleeping and dining cars had not 
 then been invented or dreamed of. Each party of 
 emigrants provided conveniences for themselves, 
 or suffered for want of them. 
 
 Our party was provided with two large lunch- 
 baskets containing provisions which we thought 
 would be sufficient with what we could purchase 
 on the way, for a week's journey. We also had two 
 lap-boards, which we used for tables by placing them 
 on our laps as we were seated opposite to each 
 other. 
 
 For sleeping we each had double blankets and 
 two thin but firm cotton mattresses, which, by the 
 aid of two seats turned opposite to each other, and 
 the lap-boards, formed our beds at night. During 
 the day this bedding was compactly rolled up and 
 put away. 
 
WESTWARD HO! 39 
 
 At the stations we procured hot tea and coffee 
 and milk by the quart or gallon. Matt proved 
 very useful in procuring fresh supplies of bread and 
 cakes. 
 
 The number of emigrants travelling by this 
 route increased as we got farther West, until a spe- 
 cial and .more convenient car was provided for this 
 class of travellers, so that they might not be dis- 
 turbed by way-passengers. 
 
 After leaving New York State the character of 
 the country began to change, and log-cabins and 
 newly cleared land became more common. I there 
 first saw men ploughing in stump lots, surrounded 
 by grotesque stump fences. The land began to 
 lose the ruggedness of rock and mountain, and 
 stretched out into wide prairies, with less and less 
 of fencing as we journeyed on. 
 
 My father pointed out the different places of 
 interest in the country through which we were 
 passing, like a panorama ; and his fund of informa- 
 tion regarding it, and his educated taste and judg- 
 ment, gave me my first insight into the vast expen- 
 diture of work and energy in the settling of a 
 great continent. For the first time I began to take 
 a thoughtful interest in the problems of life and its 
 labors. Illinois, with its charred stumps and black 
 soil, had a depressing influence upon me, which even 
 at this day I have not forgotten. 
 
 I cannot explain the phenomenal change that 
 took place in me during our journey. It was as 
 
40 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 * 
 
 though I had put away childish things forever, and 
 had begun to think a man's thoughts. Whether 
 this change had been gradual, and I had not before 
 recognized it, I know not, but that I seemed for 
 the first time in my life awakened to its sober 
 problems and realities of life, is true. 
 
 Matt's mind was of a different kind frcon mine ; 
 his had been sharpened by his early struggles for 
 a living, in a great city, and he was quick in decis- 
 ion, and resolute beyond others of his age. I can see 
 him now, sturdy and positive, making his way into 
 the crowded dining stations, for milk, hot coffee, 
 or a newspaper for my father. His square shoul- 
 ders, confident air, and his straightforward way of 
 saying or doing things had a charm beyond mere 
 candor, which I cannot analyze even at this day. 
 
 After leaving the rough eastern country, the 
 level or rolling land of the prairie seemed very 
 beautiful to my young eyes, unused to the wide 
 world's scenes. There was a simple grandeur in 
 it like the vastness of the ocean. 
 
 After more than a week of travel we left the 
 cars and took the stage for Galena, and after a 
 long night's ride arrived safe and sound, though 
 travel-stained and tired. 
 
 Aunt Mehitable declared with a sigh, " That 
 that thar stagin', it w^as worse than all the rest of 
 the voyage ; and such rollin' and tumblin' ! it was 
 worse than a fore-and-aft schooner after a heavy 
 wind!" 
 
" ' -She don't sail; slie steams,' growled the captain. "" — Page 41. 
 
WESTWARD HO! 41 
 
 Galena at that time was a city of eight thousand 
 inhabitants, situated on the Fevre River, six miles 
 above where it unites with the Mississippi. At 
 the levee to which our baggage was conveyed 
 there was a steamer-packet, as it was called, which 
 we were told would be ready to sail that afternoon. 
 Matt and I were left to watch our baggage, while 
 the rest of the party washed off the stain of travel, 
 and made preparations for the remainder of the 
 trip. 
 
 "No one can get away with them heavy trunks 
 aisy. An' sure an' let us see if the captain won't 
 give us byes a passage," said Matt. 
 
 "What do yer want here ? " asked a deck-hand, 
 as we stepped upon the gang-plank. 
 
 " I want to see the captain of this st'amer," 
 said Matt, lifting his hat as a bit of flattery to the 
 man. 
 
 " Yo'll find the captain of the Prairie Queen up 
 there on deck," replied the deck-hand. 
 
 So we went " up a bit," as Matt said, and the 
 captain was pointed out to us. He was a tall, 
 thin man, with a weather-beaten, wrinkled, fever- 
 and-ague complexion, and was just cutting to- 
 bacco for his pipe, when Matt accosted him with, 
 "When does this st'amer sail, sur? " 
 
 " She don't sail ; she steams," growled the cap- 
 tain. " We steam about one o'clock this after- 
 noon." 
 
 " Can yer give me and my young master a 
 
42 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 chance to work our passage, and to make a bit 
 besides?" inquired Matt, looking steadily up into 
 the leathery face of the captain. 
 
 The old man looked us over critically, while 
 holding his lighted pipe between his teeth, squint- 
 ing up one eye as if for better observation, and 
 then said, addressing me, " I guess you're an East- 
 ern boy, ain't yer ? " 
 
 I replied that I had come from Massachusetts 
 with my father, the Reverend William Clifton, and 
 that we were going to Minnesota. 
 
 " Well," said the captain, " I cum from the State 
 of Maine to St. Louis when I warn't much bigger 
 than you be. What berth do yer want? " quizzed 
 the captain, with an inward chuckle of amusement 
 at his own remarks. 
 
 " Cabin-boy, helper, or something of that kind, 
 Mister. We'll wait on passengers, sweep, or tend 
 table," replied Matt confidently. 
 
 " Well," said the captain, who had now got his 
 pipe going, and who looked thoughtfully at Matt, 
 " You are up and dressed ! We have mostly 
 niggers on this boat for waiters ; they are a wuth- 
 less set, though, and I believe I'll try yer; you 
 have got to work, though ; no loafing, mind yer ! " 
 
 On learning that with us was a party of tliree, 
 the captain said, "Well, youngsters, I'll gi\e you 
 three dollars apiece, and your board and passage 
 to St. Paul, if you will be lively. Better get your 
 folks a good berth before any more passengers 
 
WESTWARD 110 ! 43 
 
 come aboard ; all the berths er gone in the ladies' 
 cabin already." 
 
 I replied that my father wanted a stateroom. 
 
 " Yer can't get a stateroom at this time of year 
 when there is such a rush," replied the old captain. 
 " They were engaged long ago." 
 
 Taking the advice of the cajjtain, we obtained 
 four good berths for our party ; and it was fortu- 
 nate that we did so, as, before another hour had 
 passed, they were all taken, and passengers, as 
 they arrived, were assigned to places on the cabin 
 floor, and soon all the available space even there 
 was taken. 
 
 Under the direction of the steward. Matt and I 
 began to show people to places, even on the deck. 
 
 These people were of the most diverse condi- 
 tions in life. Some wanted staterooms, and got 
 instead a promise of a place to sleep on one of the 
 dining-tables ; others were willing to put up with 
 any inconvenience, if they might safely and cheaply 
 arrive at St. Paul. 
 
 Before twelve o'clock the baggage and people 
 occupied almost all the space on the floor of the 
 deck and cabin. 
 
 " We must make them stow close," said Matt ; 
 for we had become interested, and considered our- 
 selves officials of the boat. To some we gave the 
 assurance that, if they would wait until night, 
 they might have the upper deck to sleep on. Oc- 
 casionally we met the captain, who glanced at us 
 
44 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 without remark ; but although he said nothing, he 
 seemed satisfied with us. To a gentleman and 
 his wife who had inquired for a stateroom we 
 gave up our berths, without expectation of re- 
 ward ; but, to our astonisment and satisfaction, he 
 gave us three dollars apiece. 
 
 " It must be John Jacob Astor himself," I said 
 to Matt. 
 
 " No," said Matt shrewdly ; " a real rich man 
 wouldn't have been so generous. Yer see, when 
 a man gets into the habit of getting rich, he nips 
 hard at a dollar before he lets it go from between 
 his thumb and finger. That's the way they do in 
 New York, au}^ way, payin' for newspapers and 
 blackin' boots." 
 
 From these observations it will be seen that 
 Matt knew more of human nature than I did. 
 My father was astonished and very much pleased 
 when he learned that we had saved our passage, 
 and, besides, had a promise of three dollars apiece 
 for our work during the passage to St. Paul ; and 
 he was more pleased when we showed him the 
 money we had received for our berths. 
 
 "It's jolly," said Matt; "and sure, we'll save 
 something on our passage money, fur 3'er father 
 would never have been sharp enough to ' did hid ' 
 us byes as yer uncle tould him to." 
 
 As we visited the cabin to see how our friends 
 were getting on, I found my father talking to the 
 gentleman who had so generously rewarded us 
 
WESTWARD HO! 45 
 
 for our berths. Mr. Washburne, for that was his 
 name, was saying that he had moved from the East 
 four years previously, and had settled at St. Paul ; 
 but having property in the East, he had been there 
 to turn it into cash, that he might invest it prop- 
 erly in the Northwest, of which he spoke in glow- 
 ing terms. 
 
 " Do you always have a crowded steamer like 
 this, on the way up the river?" inquired my 
 father. 
 
 " No," replied the stranger ; " these are our 
 spring emigrants, and for the past ten or twelve 
 years they have been on the increase. Last year 
 our emigrants were from the Eastern and Middle 
 States, and now the tide is constantly increasing 
 instead of decreasing. The added facilities offered 
 to travellers have had an influence in inducing the 
 population of the East to seek homes in the fertile 
 valleys and rich mineral districts of the West. 
 Many ridiculous ideas regarding the West are 
 also now corrected by more accurate knowledge, 
 and this also tends to increase the number of those 
 who are seeking homes there. This, with the 
 restless desire for change, which is a prominent 
 characteristic of- our people, will soon build up the 
 Northwest. 
 
 " Emigration is pouring in, and, where a year 
 ago there was unclaimed waste land, houses of 
 settlers are now seen on every side. In Minnesota 
 last year " (and here he referred to a paper lie had 
 
46 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 taken from his pocket), " there were entered in 
 our land office 157,807,338 acres of land, and in 
 one year the United States received from the sale 
 of public lands in our territory one million of dol- 
 lars. Besides this the government had donated to 
 old soldiers and speculators (one for pursuing the 
 enemy with zeal, and the other for pursuing the 
 President and members of Congress), 256,781 
 acres in land warrants." 
 
 '• Was all the land sold to settlers ? " inquired 
 my father. 
 
 " No ; about one-half the land this year (1854) 
 was sold under the workings of the Pre-emption 
 Law," replied Mr. Washburne. " There were no 
 land offices west of the Mississippi in Minnesota 
 until 1855, but settlers began to pour in as soon 
 as the Indian treaty, conceding it to the General 
 Government, was ratified; and so the population 
 west of the Mississippi has more than doubled 
 this year (1855)." 
 
 I had noticed that all through this conversation 
 my father had shown great nervousness, and gave 
 much less attention than he naturally would show 
 in such interesting information. He looked con- 
 stantly towards the wharf, as if anxiously expect- 
 ing something to occur or some one to appear. I 
 had also noticed this nervousness ever since he 
 first came on board in the morning, and that he 
 showed more and more by his preoccupied condi- 
 tion of mind that something unusual was agitating 
 him. 
 
WESTWARD HO! 47 
 
 My father had excused himself to Mr. Wash- 
 burne, and Matt and I went on deck, where we 
 had secured a place to sleep near the pilot-house, 
 in w^hich we were allowed to keep our bedding 
 during the day. The Captain now sent us on 
 shore to bring on board a large hamper or basket, 
 and also the trunk of one of the .passengers who 
 had arrived late. We had just taken hold of the 
 trunk, when, to my surprise, my father stepped 
 from behind a large case of goods which was stand- 
 ing on the wharf, and was followed by a young 
 colored man about twenty-five years of age. 
 
 " Here ! " said my father, "■ let this man help 
 Matt with the trunk, and you and I will carry the 
 basket." 
 
 The colored man went on board, followed b}^ my 
 father and myself; and although I thought this 
 occurrence a little strange at the time, my atten- 
 tion was called from it by the ringing of the bell 
 and the blowing of the whistle and the pulling in 
 of the steamer's gang-plank, and by our start up 
 the river. 
 
 I next saw the colored man lying in my father's 
 berth, and was about to tell him to get out, when 
 my father took me by the arm, and, although he 
 said nothing, I knew by his manner that the man 
 was there with his consent. 
 
48 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 UP THE MISSISSIPPI. 
 
 We were now steaming down the river with new 
 scenery on every side. It was a beautiful day, and 
 after a backward, rainy season we were having mild 
 weather, with a blue sky and a balmy atmosphere. 
 The landscape seen from the steamer was of vernal 
 freshness and beauty. As we descended the Fever 
 River a bend shut the city of Galena from view. 
 
 " There," said Mr. Washburn, with whom we 
 were talking, " there is the Mississippi on the 
 other side of that bank. That low strip of land 
 is called the ' portage,' and a canal cut across it 
 would bring the city of Galena three miles nearer 
 the river." 
 
 In a few minutes our boat had emerged into the 
 broad and rapid current of the Mississippi. 
 
 "This river," said Mr. Washburn, "is indeed the 
 'Father of Waters.'" 
 
 " Yes," said my father, addressing himself to the 
 whole party, "it is majestic in all its belongings; 
 the numerous tributaries constantly replenishing 
 its waters, the extensive valley's drained by these 
 tributaries, and the immense resources afforded to 
 
My father reproves Aunt Hitty for speaking lightly of the 
 Mississippi. — Page 49. 
 
UP THE MISSISSIPPI. 49 
 
 commerce by such a raultitiide of navigable streams, 
 make it the monarch of American rivers." 
 
 " Don't preach about it ! " said Aunt Hitty, in 
 an undertone, intended only for my father. "I 
 suppose there are other rivers besides this muddy 
 mill-race." 
 
 My father turned slowly around, and in the man- 
 ner of offended dignity with which he would have 
 silenced one of his deacons who questioned the 
 soundness of his theology, replied, " Mehitable 
 Ryder, a river that extends through eighteen de- 
 grees of latitude, laving the soil of nine gigantic 
 States and one Territory; affording with its tributa- 
 ries twenty thousand miles of navigation and float- 
 ing a thousand steam craft ; producing on its banks 
 the orange and the sugar-cane of the tropics, and 
 the Norway pine and moss-covered plants of the 
 polar region, — is unequalled by any other river in 
 the world ! Should a war ever sweep over this fair 
 region (which Heaven avert, though the sins of our 
 country are many), whoever holds the Mississippi 
 holds the seat of empire." 
 
 A'fter this burst of descriptive oratory he seemed 
 to forget his displeasure and added, " The Territory 
 to which we are emigrating is fortunately situated ; 
 it touches with one hand the great lakes that give 
 an outlet for its produce by the way of the St. 
 Lawrence River to the Atlantic, and with the other 
 the Mississippi, leading to the Gulf of Mexico ; by 
 virtue of her products she must become an impor- 
 
50 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 taut State in our great American Empire. A won- 
 derful future awaits us as a nation I " 
 
 At this instant Matt pulled at my jacket, saying, 
 " We must go and help set the tables ; " and as we 
 went to the cabin he said, " Yer father has got more 
 learnin' in his hid than Tim McGrath, the alder- 
 man ; an' sure he knows a wonderful dale for a man 
 who isn't sharp at all." 
 
 "Why, don't you think m}^ father sharp. Matt?" 
 
 " No ; an' sure, it's yer aunt's the sharp one, she 
 is." 
 
 I repeat this conversation as showing Matt's 
 quick appreciation of personal traits in those whom 
 he met. 
 
 After our duties had been performed under the 
 supervision of the steward of the boat, we were 
 allowed to go on deck once more, and there found 
 my father talking with the captain, Avho, having 
 heard his remarks about the Mississippi, had con- 
 ceived a great respect for him and wanted to talk 
 about liis favorite river, 
 
 " I was one of the first settlers in Galena," said 
 tlie captain. "•! cum here from ' Old Toavu' on the 
 Penobscot River, when I was a boy, and first lived 
 in St. Louis and then cum up to Galena in a 
 bateau." 
 
 " Did you row up the river? " I inquired. 
 
 " No, we cum up the Mississippi in them days 
 by bushwhacking, cordeling, and warping," said 
 the captain. 
 
UP THE MISSISSIPPI. 51 
 
 •' I don't understand those terms," said my father 
 inquiringly. 
 
 " Well, well, I don't suppose Eastern people do 
 know much about such things," said the captain 
 in the tone of one who considered such ignorance 
 lamentable, but to some extent excusable, for want 
 of proper education. 
 
 " Eastern folks is ignorant, though I did cum 
 from thar myself. Cordeling is where men walk 
 along the shore and draw a boat by a rope tied 
 to it. Yer can't do much at it, though, when the 
 water is high. Bushwhacking is when yer pull 
 the boat along by gittin' a holt of the bushes along 
 the shore. Warping used to be the best way : we 
 had two sets of boats and lines ; one end of a line 
 was fastened to a tree or stake on the shore, and 
 then the men in the bateau threw a line over their 
 shoulders and would walk to the stern, then drop 
 the line and run back to the bow and take a holt of 
 it agin, meanwhile the other boat attaches another 
 line further up the river. It was rather slow work 
 to what I can do with this steam packet, though," 
 said the captain, with a look of pride and com- 
 placency ; " I can cum up now in as many hours as 
 it used to take days. The Mississippi wouldn't be 
 much without steam ; but with it she is a hull team, 
 and a dog under the wagon. 
 
 " Yes, sir," he continued, " if war should cum, 
 whoever holds the Mississippi holds the country. 
 Well, that's true when yer have steam to make a 
 
52 - TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 boat walk over the water, but if yer had to do it 
 with warping or cordeling the world would cum 
 to an end before yer could do anything except go 
 down stream." 
 
 One feature of the upper Mississippi which in- 
 terested me was the bluffs, or isolated hills, which 
 stand on its banks like sentinels guarding its 
 waters. In some places these bluffs are precipi- 
 tous and rugged, presenting a castellated front 
 of rocks from two to five hundred feet high, and 
 almost overhanging the water ; again they grace- 
 fully slope back from the water's edge to their 
 summits, with here and there small groves of oaks 
 looking like New England orchards. Many of 
 them are but a succession of equally high and 
 beautiful promontories of every conceivable shape 
 and size, stretching up the valley of some tributary 
 stream. 
 
 These ranges of bluffs on both sides of the river 
 are from one to four miles apart. The river winds 
 along a valley or washes the base of rugged cliffs 
 on the eastern shore for miles, while on the opposite 
 side are seen hills towering above the woodlands in 
 the intervening valley ; or again, it divides into 
 numerous channels, thus forming islands covered 
 with dense foliage. From the time of our entering 
 the Mississippi until our arrival at Lake Pepin we 
 were seldom out of sight of one or more of these 
 islands. About three o'clock we were in the neigh- 
 borhood of the beautiful prairie lands below Du- 
 
UP THE MISSISSIPPI. 53 
 
 buque. They looked, as my father said, as if they 
 had been cleared by the hand of man, who had 
 then abandoned them or liad himself been swept 
 away. 
 
 At four o'clock we made a landing at Dubuque, 
 at that time a city of eight or ten thousand inhal> 
 itants, and Matt and I were kept busy waiting 
 on passengers who came aboard. We were just 
 ready to pull in the gang-plank when a team drove 
 on the wharf in great haste, and the driver in- 
 quired for the captain, saying he had with him an 
 officer with a warrant to search the boat. The 
 packet was detained while every part of the boat 
 was thoroughly examined. It was noised about 
 that these men were a United States officer and the 
 owner of a fugitive slave, who it was suspected had 
 secreted himself on the " Prairie Queen." 
 
 Matt said to me in a whisper, "An' sure, it 
 couldn't be that nagur that came on board with yer 
 father, could it ? " 
 
 " Of course not ! " I replied; but though my re- 
 ply was so decisive, I had serious misgivings and 
 was not so sure as my words implied. I felt relieved 
 when, after a diligent search, the fugitive was not 
 found on board. The gang-plank was pulled in, 
 and we were once more on our way up the river. 
 
 Afterwards Matt and I went on the upper deck 
 and talked the matter over in whispers, but could 
 come to no conclusion regarding the mystery, for 
 the colored man that had come on board with my 
 
54 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 father was evidently not one of the servants belong- 
 ing to the boat. 
 
 As we were leaving Dubuque we noticed a large 
 stone house built between two high, perpendicular 
 rocks at the base of a cliff. 
 
 " Who could have built such a house in such a 
 place ? " inquired Aunt Mehitable of the cap- 
 tain. 
 
 " That ! humph ! it's the landin'-place of the 
 town of Sinape wliich is on the bluff above, — all 
 there is of it," said the captain contemptuously. 
 
 " Why, what's become of the town, for the land 
 sakes ? " asked my aunt in astonishment. 
 
 " Well, durin' the land speculatin' times, they 
 befjan this town as a sort of rival of Galena as 
 a lead depot ; didn't 'mount to much, tho' ; they 
 kind o' petered out, and that thar stun house is 
 its remains ! " 
 
 At about nine o'clock we made a landing at a 
 lead depot established by a Boston company, one 
 hundred and sixty miles from Galena. 
 
 At daylight the next morning we began prepar- 
 ing for breakfast, arousing from sleep those who 
 liad made their beds on the tables and on the cabin 
 floor. After breakfast we went on deck and found 
 that we were just passing the mouth of the Wis- 
 consin River. The captain told us that it was only 
 since 1849 that light-draught steamers had begun 
 to run on that river. Five miles above its mouth 
 Prairie du Chien is beautifully situated. We made 
 
UP THE MISSISSIPPI. 65 
 
 a landing here, and took on board a family with 
 their household goods, farming implements, and 
 a few cows and horses. The family consisted of a 
 man, his wife, and two daughters. We found that 
 they, like ourselves, were emigrating to the new 
 Territory. 
 
 No incident occurred during the day, except 
 that we stopped at Lansing, the northwest settle- 
 ment of Iowa, and formerly a village of the Winne- 
 bago Indians who had been removed to Crow Wing 
 River in 1858. We were soon in the southern part 
 of the Territory of Minnesota, which my father 
 told us contained an area of sixty thousand square 
 miles, the territorial government of which had been 
 established in 1849. 
 
 We made Pratt's Landing, near the mouth of 
 the Chippewa River, the next morning after break- 
 fast, and my father informed us that it was our 
 last day on the Mississippi. 
 
 Soon after leaving Read's Landing the river 
 began to broaden into a magnificent sheet of water, 
 five miles Avide and twenty-five long. This broad- 
 ening of the Mississippi is known as Lake Pepin. 
 Up to this point we had hardly been out of sight 
 of the islands, which are such a peculiar feature 
 of the river ; but on this great body of water there 
 are no islands. The captain told us that the water 
 was very deep, and that there was no perceptible 
 current. 
 
 '' I sometimes have an idee," said the captain, 
 
56 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 " that the bottom of this lake has di'opped out and 
 the islands with it." 
 
 "What point is that?" I asked as we passed a 
 headland which seemed to project into the lake. 
 
 " Pint ! no pint," said the captain sarcastically, 
 and it proved to be a bend in the lake and no point 
 at all. 
 
 We amused ourselves by looking over the hurri- 
 cane deck at the huge shovel-fish and sturgeon 
 dartingf in front of our steamer. The Indians 
 spear these fish under the ice during tlie winter 
 and in shallow places during open weather. 
 
 The captain pointed out to us an Indian village, 
 and with the aid of a spyglass we saw several 
 canoes. 
 
 At the approach to the lake, on the left, is a 
 rocky point of land which stands like a sentinel 
 guarding the entrance. 
 
 Twelve miles farther up, another rocky promon- 
 tory obstructs the upper view of the lake, which 
 here makes a curve. Passing this portion of the 
 lake, we found it enclosed with bluffs rising several 
 hundred feet, and presenting a variety of odd and 
 picturesque forms, with depressions and ravines, 
 with here a vertical wall of rock, and there a 
 •gentle slo23e covered with trees and grass, while 
 a mountain standing alone seemed to guard the 
 vale. 
 
 At noon we passed a rock on the east side of 
 the river which is perpendicular and about two 
 
UP THE MISSISSIPPI. 57 
 
 hundred feet high. Mr. Washburn told us that it 
 was Maiden's Rock, and about it there was an 
 interesting tradition. 
 
 An Indian girl named Winona loved a young 
 hunter, but her father and kinsmen wished her 
 to marry a warrior of her own tribe. While on 
 an excursion up this lake her father told her 
 she must give up her lover and be married to the 
 wairior on that day. The girl, enraged and des- 
 perate, broke away from the party, determined to 
 die rather than not marry the lover of her choice. 
 She reached the top of the rock, and from there, 
 upbraiding her father and friends for their cruelty, 
 she sang her death dirge. Her father promised to 
 leave her free if she would forego her design. In 
 reply she sang her death-song as follows : — 
 
 You are cruel to me and my lover, 
 
 But Winona no longer fears j'ou, 
 
 Her heart is her own, 
 
 And she cannot trust you ; 
 
 She is free and she scorns you ; 
 
 You shall know how true 
 
 Winona can be to her lover ; 
 
 yhe can die, but weds not, 
 
 When her heart belongs to another." 
 
 And then with a wild lament, regardless of the 
 entreaties and promises of her father, she threw 
 herself from the precipice and her mangled body 
 was found on the rocks below. " That is the story 
 told to me by a half-breed some years ago," said 
 Mr. Washburn. 
 
58 T03I CLIFTON. 
 
 "I wish I was on top of one of them rocks," 
 said Matt ; " sure I could look all over the country." 
 
 Mr. Washburn, who was near at hand, replied, 
 "You've got a wrong idea, youngster. The top 
 of that bluff is on a level with the prairie and the 
 surrounding country. You see. Eastern people 
 have got the idea that prairie land is damp and 
 low. When on that bluff you stand on the verge 
 of a vast expanse of prairie, rolling in gentle 
 undulations, with Lake Pepin two hundred feet 
 below. This is also the character of the prairie 
 on the western tributaries of the Mississippi, from 
 the Falls of St. Anthony to the western bounda- 
 ries of Minnesota." 
 
 At last, after passing up the St. Croix River to 
 Stillwater, we returned to the Mississippi. On 
 turning a point of land a mile below St. Paul we 
 got a fine view of that city. 
 
 It is situated on the high lands of the Missis- 
 sippi, three hundred and twenty-seven miles by 
 water from Galena. 
 
 " It is eight hundred feet above the level of the 
 Gulf of Mexico," said Mr. Washburn with the 
 pride of a Western man, " and a few years ago 
 when I first came here it was a wilderness ; now it 
 is a city of ten thousand inhabitants, with substan- 
 tial warehouses and churches, and is destined to 
 be a great city." 
 
 A group of inquisitive people was on the wharf 
 to see the boat come in. There were ladies expect- 
 
 y 
 
UP THE MISSISSIPPI. 59 
 
 ing friends, there were merchants, editors, car-men, 
 and coachmen, but what most attracted our atten- 
 tion was the Indians in the group, with their red 
 blankets and picturesque dress. 
 
 "Some of these people," said Mr. Washburn, 
 " speak French, some English, and some Chippe- 
 way. See that Indian ! That is a chief of the 
 tribe." 
 
 " Sure, he is a gay one," said Matt. 
 
 He was dressed in a red blanket, with fanciful 
 leo-ginors of deer-skin, and beaded moccasins, while 
 his hair hung in long braids, and was ornamented 
 with ribbons and feathers. His face was painted 
 in a variety of colors. He was in stature very tall 
 and erect; seeming to my eyes a veritable lion 
 among men. Beside him was a dark-eyed squaw, 
 with a pappoose wrapped in a blanket on her 
 back. 
 
 On landing we found my uncle John waiting 
 with an open carriage to take us to his home. 
 We were in Minnesota, and to my aunt's evident 
 surprise were still among civilized people. 
 
 We had scarcely got seated in the carriage and 
 were waiting for my father who had stayed on 
 board, when a great commotion arose on the wharf. 
 A colored man had been seen coming off the boat, 
 who had not paid his passage, and who, it was 
 supposed, was the fugitive slave for whom a 
 search had been made at Dubuque. He was on 
 the wharf surrounded by a curious group of on- 
 
60 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 lookers, when my father was seen to speak to the 
 captain, who nodded his head in approval, and in 
 a moment the black man, who had begun to look 
 uneasy and anxious, was released. 
 
 As m}^ father turned towards the carriage he 
 said to the bystanders, " The captain knows about 
 this man. He is now a free man who has dead- 
 headed his passage, which 1 have agreed to pay." 
 
THE OUTLOOK FOR OUR NEW HOME. 61 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE OUTLOOK FOE OUR NEW HOME. 
 
 " William ! what scrape have you been getting 
 into now ? " said my uncle John quizzically. 
 
 My father was an outspoken man ; and, although 
 he perhaps assumed too much in believing that 
 most men when put to a practical test felt as he 
 did regarcUng slavery, yet his belief that men were 
 more humane in practice than in theory was in 
 effect often shown to be correct. I do not think 
 my uncle, who was a well-known Democratic poli- 
 tician, and who afterwards became governor of the 
 State of Minnesota, was exactly prepared for my 
 father's answer when he said, very simply, " I hope 
 I am doing no harm,^John, in helping a man to 
 his own ; in making a free man of a slave." 
 
 My uncle looked at my father in astonishment 
 for a moment, and then with a prolonged whistle 
 whipped up his team as if to escape discussion. 
 
 That evening after our arrival I happened to go 
 into his private room, and found my father in con- 
 versation with him and the young colored man, 
 whom they called Aleck. From what I heard 
 them say I had very good reason to believe that 
 
62 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 though a pro-slavery man in theory, in practice, in 
 this case at least, my uncle was assisting in run- 
 ning a section of the underground railroad for the 
 transfer of fugitive slaves from slavery to free- 
 dom. 
 
 There was a note of admiration in Matt's voice 
 when, knowing the facts, he said, " Butyer father's 
 clear grit all through, to kape so cool when they 
 were makin' all that row about that nagur." 
 
 Matt's admiration for my father has been a con- 
 stant source of surprise to me in later years, for it 
 showed that he was capable of appreciating the 
 simple but heroic side of his character. 
 
 On our arrival at my uncle's, aunt Mehitable 
 expressed astonishment that he lived in so civilized 
 a manner ; for his house was furnished in a style 
 that would compare favorably with New England 
 homes whose owners Avere in the same circum- 
 stances as my uncle. 
 
 While the surroundings of the city of St. Paul 
 had at that time the look of a country newly 
 opened to civilization, its homes and stores and 
 public buildings had the conveniences, if not the 
 luxuries, of older communities. 
 
 Such was the surprising enterprise of the North- 
 western settlers that on every side, towns may be 
 said to have sprung up as if by magic, like Alad- 
 din's palace, in a single night. 
 
 I think the fact of finding Minnesota so differ- 
 ent from her expectations reconciled my aunt, as it 
 
THE OUTLOOK FOR OUR NEW HOME. 63 
 
 does all new settlers, to the harsher phases of fron- 
 tier life that she afterwards experienced. She saw 
 by this example that its rough inconveniences 
 were of short duration, and that the settlers were 
 soon able to enjoy luxuries and comforts. 
 
 My uncle at first attempted to induce my father 
 to remain in St. Paul and enter upon the work of 
 the ministry again. My father declared that while 
 under some circumstances he should consider this 
 to be his duty, yet his health and strength, though 
 now improved, were yet so precarious that he 
 deemed it his duty to abandon for a time his pro- 
 fession. His long ministry in New England had 
 affected his general health, while the hemorrhages 
 of the throat or lungs were not likely to be bene- 
 fited by public speaking. 
 
 As his pale face and constant cough empha- 
 sized this view of the case, my uncle John, who 
 was a very practical business man, agreed with 
 him that he had better pre-empt some good land 
 for a homestead. With good management this 
 would in a few years place him in comfortable 
 circumstances and might at the same time restore 
 his liealth. 
 
 After this plan had been determined upon, there 
 began a discussion as to where we should make a 
 home. 
 
 In the Minneapolis district nearly all the good 
 land was pre-empted, and my father did not feel 
 willing to buy an improved farm. He preferred 
 
64 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 to select a land claim wliere there was a large 
 choice of selection. 
 
 In the Sauk Rapids district twenty-two towns 
 had been surveyed, and in the Brownville district 
 one hundred; all these were subject to pre-emp- 
 tion. 
 
 My father finally determined to spend a week 
 or more if necessary in selecting our future home. 
 So, early in the week, he and uncle John went up 
 the Mississippi on the little steamer Governor 
 Ramsey, to a location where many fine farms were 
 awaiting owners. 
 
 Matt had been Yery desirous of accompanying 
 them ; but my uncle represented to him that it 
 would be an outlay of money that he could not 
 afford, and before leaving, obtained for him a tem- 
 porary situation caring for horses. Matt was 
 naturally fond of animals, and soon made himself 
 very useful. Mrs. Ryan, meanwhile, began earn- 
 ing good wages by washing and ironing. My 
 uncle thought that Matt and his mother had 
 better save all the money possible before pre-empt- 
 ing land of their own. My father proposed to 
 employ them both on small wages for awhile. 
 
 The right of pre-emption means the right of pur- 
 chasing land before others, and the law and its 
 conditions were so little understood by us, that, 
 like most emigrants from the East, we had these 
 things to learn. 
 
 W^ learned first, that the settler must never 
 
THE OUTLOOK FOR OUR NEW HOME. 65 
 
 before have had the benefit of pre-emption under 
 the act ; second, tliat one pre-empting land should 
 not be the owner of the amount of three hun- 
 dred and twenty acres of land in any State or 
 Territory in the United States ; third, that the pre- 
 emptor must settle upon and improve the land for 
 his own exclusive use and benefit, and not with 
 the intention of selling or speculating with it; 
 that he must not make, directly or otherwise, any 
 contract or agreement by which the land shall in- 
 ure to the benefit of any other person tlian himself. 
 
 The first thing to consider was whether we 
 should choose timber or prairie land for a farm. 
 There were advantages in both. The cost of 
 clearing up timber land was, however, about 
 twenty dollars an acre, while the cost of breaking 
 tiie prairie was not over three or four dollars an 
 acre, and could be done by the settlers. And my 
 father wished to take advantage of the fact that 
 very good crops of potatoes, oats, corn, and often 
 wheat could be raised on the sod. 
 
 In the course of a week my father returned to 
 St. Paul, very enthusiastic over the conntry, and 
 looking stronger than we had seen him for a long 
 time. It was evident that the clear, bracing air of 
 Minnesota was producing a beneficial effect on him. 
 He had selected some land in the Sauk Rapids dis- 
 trict, not many miles from the Mississippi River. 
 Uncl-e said that his selection was an excellent one. 
 
 We at once began making preparations for our 
 
66 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 new home, in order to get to work on the land as 
 soon as possible. The site selected for onr farm 
 could be reached partly by the river or wholly by 
 the prairie route, which was travelled to some ex- 
 tent. It was near the military road to Fort Rip- 
 ley, a military post fifteen or twenty miles from 
 the location of our future home. 
 
 The next day after their return we learned that 
 there was to be a sale of condemned Government 
 stores at Fort Snelling ; and we thought there 
 might be wagons and harness, and possibly horses 
 and mules, that we might obtain at very low 
 prices. 
 
 So the next day we drove to Fort Snelling, 
 which is about eight miles from St. Paul, at the 
 confluence of the Minnesota and Mississippi riv- 
 ers. The fort, being no longer needed, was used 
 as a rendezvous for soldiers and as a store-house. 
 Its situation is very picturesque, standing like 
 a fortress of olden times, on a rugged, rocky 
 bluff, one hundred feet above the bottom-land 
 of the rivers. It is in the form of a hexagon, and 
 was erected in 1819. Its elevated position once 
 commanded both rivers ; but now it is of little use, 
 as modern cannon could command it from the 
 higher land around. 
 
 Matt and I made an excursion up the steep side 
 of the bluff, and found the white, sugar-like forma- 
 tion just below the fort to be full of swallows' 
 holes. We got some bad tumbles, and gave up 
 
THE OUTLOOK FOR OUR NEW HOME. 67 
 
 farther exploration in that direction. We had, 
 however, a beautiful view of the green, grassy bot- 
 tom land below. 
 
 At the sale, my father purchased two large bag. 
 Sfaofe wasfons, sucli as had been used to carry 
 engineers' tools and supplies. They were in very 
 good condition for ordinary use. He also bought 
 several condemned tents, and tent flies, which were 
 sold very cheap. 
 
 Matt, much to our amusement, put in a bid for 
 a pair of very lean mules, covered with sores caused 
 by chafing harness and hard usage in campaigning 
 over the prairies. He had been examining their 
 feet and legs very critically, and declared to me that 
 there was nothing the matter with the mules only 
 that they had sores and lice. That seemed enough, 
 for they were covered with scabs and vermin and 
 were pitiful-looking beasts. Matt paid only fifteen 
 dollars for the pair. He also bought an old wagon 
 without a top for eight dollars, and some fragments 
 of old harness for two dollars. J^Iy father, mean- 
 while, bought some very fair harness, some shovels, 
 picks, and spades, and also a good pair of working 
 mules. 
 
 Matt began at once washing his mules with soap 
 and warm water, which he obtained at the barracks, 
 and it was amusing to see how careful he was of 
 those animals. When some of the bystanders teased 
 him they found the ex-newsboy their match at 
 chaff. 
 
68 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 " Are you goin' to set up a mule hospital ? " in- 
 quired one. 
 
 " Yes, an' sure, but we want dacent men fur doc- 
 tors, and so you needn't apply," said Matt. 
 
 To my uncle he said, " The legs and feet of thim 
 mules is first rate ; and the man I worked for in St. 
 Paul said if the legs and feet of a mule is good, it 
 don't matter what else is the disthress of thim." 
 
 After the careful washing. Matt turned his atten- 
 tion to the harness, which he changed so that the 
 wagon could be drawn by a breast-plate and traces, 
 and thus avoid the chafing. 
 
 A young officer of engineers, named Preston, who 
 had been talking to my sister Bess, here began to 
 glance at Matt and his mules. He was at first in- 
 clined to laugh, but finally examined both mules 
 and harness, and expressed his approbation of 
 Matt's ingenuity, and called the attention of an 
 older officer to the extemporized harness. When 
 Matt started his team, and the crowd made him 
 and his mules th^ butt of much ridicule, the older 
 officer said, " That boy is no fool : if our men had 
 been as sensible as he is, those mules would never 
 have been condemned. The boy has as good as 
 picked up a hundred dollars, or more." 
 
 Then he turned to Matt and inquired his name 
 and age, and said, "If you were old enough, and 
 would enlist in my regiment, I would make you my 
 farrier." 
 
 But Matt was not thinking of army life at that 
 
THE OUTLOOK FOR OUR NEW HOME. 69 
 
 time, although he afterwards entered the army, as 
 will be seen in the course of this narrative. 
 
 On our return from Fort Snelling, my father 
 having expressed a wish to buy some good horses, 
 Matt informed him that he knew of a man that had 
 some fine draught horses for sale. This showed 
 that Matt had kept his wits about him and his eyes 
 and ears open. With Matt's assistance my father 
 bought for two hundred dollars, a pair of large 
 gray horses ; also a large wagon like an express- 
 wagon, two cows, and a pair of young horses. 
 
 Matt bought an old sow and a goat which he de- 
 clared was an Irishman's cow. 
 
 " An' sure the pig will plase me mother, and be 
 company for her and the goat." 
 
 Uncle John was pleased with Matt's acuteness, 
 and offered him a place in his store ; but Matt re- 
 plied, " And shure what should I do with me mules 
 and pig? " So Matt still determined to go with us 
 and work at first for my father until he got ready 
 to pre-empt a claim for himself. 
 
 It was thouglit best to leave my sister and aunt 
 at uncle John's, taking Mrs. Ryan with us to do the 
 work until our habitation was somewhat settled. 
 But aunt Hitty declared she would not be left 
 behind. 
 
 " Why," said she, " the boy would never wash his 
 face and hands if I didn't go. He'll get into all 
 sorts of scrapes, too, and Mr. Clifton, land knows, 
 wouldn't know where anything was if I didn't go 
 
70 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 with him. The Injuns would scalp him and he'd 
 never know it." 
 
 To tell the truth, my father was very absent- 
 minded ; and so this"" setting out," as uncle John 
 called it, made him laugh heartily. It was finally 
 decided to leave my sister Bess at uncle John's. 
 
 Before leaving St. Paul my father had hired a 
 half-breed named Peter Roy. He was engaged on 
 my uncle's recommendation, and with the under- 
 standing that he was to accompany us over the 
 prairie to our future home, and then, if both par- 
 ties desired it, a contract might be made for future 
 services. 
 
 My uncle vouched for Roy's trustfulness, and 
 said he was a good farmer and would prove a val- 
 uable man for us. I have seldom seen so strik- 
 ing a man physically. He was more than six feet 
 tall, but so finely proportioned that his height was 
 not noticeable except by. contrast. His face ex- 
 pressed good nature, while his massive under jaw 
 and the carriage of his head indicated courage and 
 firmness. His eyes were steel-blue or gray, show- 
 ing his Scotch parentage on one side, while his 
 hair was straight and black, and a certain freedom 
 and stateliness of carriage came from his Indian 
 mother. He was about twenty-five years old, and 
 previous to our meeting him had been a voyageur 
 and farmer. He was reputed to be as strong and 
 as courageous as a lion. I formed a friendship 
 with him at once, for he was a man that children 
 
THE OUTLOOK FOR OUR NEW HOME. 71 
 
 and dogfs and horses trusted and liked at first 
 sight. 
 
 On the first day of May we began our journey. 
 During that day we passed by the Falls of St. 
 Anthony. After journeying on the eastern banks 
 of the Mississippi above the falls for three miles, 
 we left the river and made a detour over a diy 
 and beautiful prairie blooming with flowers. The 
 groves were enlivened with the singing of birds. 
 Tlie air was pure, the sky blue, and all contributed 
 to make our first day's journey a pleasant one. 
 We halted to cook our dinner, and prepared to 
 camp for the night near a farm. 
 
 We cooked our supper; and if it was not served 
 in very elegant style, our appetites made up for 
 that deficiency as well as for the lack of delicacies. 
 
 Matt spent much time at both noon and night 
 in washing and attending to his mules,, which were 
 already beginning to prove the correctness of his 
 judgment in buying them. 
 
 The next morning we resumed our journey, our 
 fine gray horses drawing the large wagon, leading 
 the way ; next came the mules attached to the 
 smaller one on which was loaded our baggage ; 
 Matt's team and the oxen and cows brought up 
 the rear. We passed by groves of scrubby oaks 
 and over undulating prairie land for the first eight 
 miles of our journey that day, and at night en- 
 camped by a small and beautiful lake. 
 
 Our dog Gai'rison was a jealous guardian of our 
 
72 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 teams, although when encamped we took turns 
 in guarding the camp. Occasionally on our route 
 we passed farmhouses and sometimes comfortable 
 hotels and dwellings, where, had we so desired, 
 we could have received entertainment. Althougfh 
 my father was unaccustomed to labor, he bore the 
 fatigue of the journey well, and seemed to enjoy 
 the pure, bracing air more and more every day. 
 So we journeyed on with little variation, taking 
 care not to over-drive our live-stock. Matt exhib- 
 ited his usual solicitude for his, and would have 
 fallen out from our party, I believe, rather than 
 neglect the animals or suffer them to be ill-fed or 
 uncared for. 
 
 Here and there we got beautiful glimpses of the 
 Mississippi and of the huge tamarack groves that 
 grow in its swampy bottom-lands ; in one place we 
 saw bold rocks and cliffs that reminded us of our 
 own New England. But little occurred to mar our 
 enjoyment, with the exception of the last few days 
 of the journey, when we left the main road and 
 travelled on the prairie. Here we sometimes got 
 mired in marshy places. Now and then we killed a 
 prairie hen or other small game, which made a very 
 acceptable addition to our stock of provisions. 
 Hunger in our party seemed so chronic that Aunt 
 Hitty declared we should have to go back for 
 stores before we arrived, unless we ate less. She 
 thought she had never slept so soundly since she 
 could remember. My father was seldom heard to 
 
THE OUTLOOK FOR OUR NEW HOME. 73 
 
 cougli, and that fact alone seemed worth the 
 trip. 
 
 When we had reached a point on the military 
 road, not far from a Mississippi steamboat land- 
 ing, to our great suprise, Aleck, the colored man 
 who came up the river with us on our way to St. 
 Paul, joined us. My father explained that after 
 waiting a few days uncle John had sent Aleck up 
 the Mississippi from St. Anthony. They thought 
 that by this method Aleck was less liable to be ar- 
 rested as a fugitive slave. For had he been seen to 
 leave St. Paul with our party, some unprincipled 
 person might have suspected the truth, and given 
 information that would have led to his capture and 
 return to slavery. 
 
 " Golly, 'spects dem fellers in St. Paul tink dis 
 chile trablin' fur his health. Reckon dey won't 
 look fur Aleck 'way up hyer on dese lans." 
 
 Aleck proved to be very handy and amusing, 
 and when evening came he entertained us all with 
 his plantation melodies. " Roll, Jordan, Roll," was 
 a favorite with us which he could not repeat too 
 often. 
 
74 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A NEW HOME IN THE AYILDERNESS. 
 
 Bv reference to mv note-book which, at the 
 suggestion of mv father, I kept at that time, I 
 find that we arrived at our destination about four 
 o'clock on an afternoon in May, 1855. During 
 our last day's journey we had been obliged to cross 
 many mai-shy places on the prairie, where our 
 heavy teams had mired, and where the difficulty 
 of extricating our wagons greatly delayed and 
 fatigued us. So although we had onl}' travelled 
 about seven miles since startinsf at davli^ht, Ave 
 did not arrive at our destination until late in the 
 afternoon. 
 
 Notwitlistanding our wearied condition, excla- 
 mations of surprise and delight burst from our party 
 when our wagons were halted on a slight eminence 
 overlooking two small but beautiful wood-fringed 
 lakes. One lay nearly- in front of us and the other 
 on our left, separated by a plateau eight or nine 
 hundred yards in width. 
 
 Back of us stretched an undulating prairie as 
 beautiful as ever the eye rested upon, — a Avide 
 expanse of natural garden plot, with here and 
 
I 
 
 A NEW HOME IX THE WILDERNESS. 75 
 
 there groves of oak resembling at a distance the 
 orchards of the far away land we had left. The 
 first impression was that the land had been cleared 
 by some former dweller who, after smoothing it as 
 with mighty rollers and sowing the soil with grass 
 and flowers, had, with his home, fences, and cattle, 
 been swept from the face of the earth. 
 
 The scene was indeed enchanting ; the landscape 
 was sublime in its extent and simplicity. The sky 
 was clear, and not a breath disturbed the mirror- 
 like lakes before us. The trees that skirted them, 
 and a densely wooded island in the centre of the 
 larger lake, were reflected, as was the sky, on their 
 tranquil surface; while the invigorating air and 
 the softened light of declining day all combined 
 to produce that exhilaration which the appreci- 
 ative mind feels when coming in contact with 
 primitive nature. 
 
 We at once began preparations for our evening 
 meal ; dry wood was collected for a fire, water as 
 clear as crystal brought from the lake, a sod fire- 
 place built, prairie chicken or grouse, which had 
 been shot that afternoon, were soon broiling, fra- 
 grant coffee was prepared, and the cakes were fiy- 
 ing in the long-handled frying-pan we used for that 
 purpose. Stakes were driven into the ground and 
 our two lapboards fixed thereon for tables, — Aunt 
 Hitty producing some clean towels for tablecloths. 
 
 Seated on our camp-stools at this extemporized 
 table, my father invoked the blessing of God upon 
 
76 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 our food ; and it is needless to say that that supper 
 was eaten with an appetite which is possessed only 
 by those who exercise and labor in the pure open 
 air. That scene of peace and rustic beauty so im- 
 pressed my youthful mind, that after all these years 
 of adventure and hardship I recall it as the most 
 beautiful one enshrined in my memory. 
 
 After supper we made, preparations for the night, 
 for the air as the sun went down became somewhat 
 chilly. The horses, fastened by ropes or lariats, 
 were left to graze on the buffalo grass just spring- 
 ing up, fresh and green, on the prairie. Dry grass 
 was cut for our bedding, over this our rubber 
 blankets were first spread, and over these woollen 
 ones. 
 
 My aunt and Mrs. Ryan preferred to sleep another 
 night in the wagon, not willing to risk being de- 
 voured by snakes, or little prairie dogs, a colony 
 of the latter having been seen on our journey. 
 
 After my father had asked the blessing of God 
 on our new home, we went to our rest. No sleep 
 of my life, except one after a long march in the 
 army, ever equalled in sweetness and dreamless 
 repose that night under the stars on the prairies of 
 Minnesota. 
 
 The next morning we were up before the sun ; 
 and after a breakfast of bacon and eggs, we began 
 at once to arrange for our temporary home. 
 
 An hour or more was spent in selecting a pleas- 
 ant site for our habitation, where housekeeping 
 
A NEW HOME IN THE WILDERNESS. 11 
 
 might be conducted with the least inconvenience 
 to the housekeepers. Matt and Peter came in from 
 a prospecting tour, and reported that they had 
 found a spring of water on the hillside near us, 
 facing the larger lake. After long consultation 
 with Aunt Hitty, we decided that a site near this 
 spring of water was the best possible for our pur- 
 pose. The water was clear and pure and cool, and 
 near it was a level spot overlooking the lake. 
 
 It seemed, my father said, as if the surroundings 
 were providentially arranged for a home. 
 
 The trees formed ample shade, and Aunt Hitty 
 said, " If they never have any leaves on them 
 they'll do to fasten clotheslines to ; " for my aunt 
 was practical, and accustomed to the large elm- 
 trees common to New England, and looked with 
 much contempt upon these small oaks. . . 
 
 In front of the plateau was a gradually descend- 
 ing slope, covered with short buffalo grass, resem- 
 bling a cultivated lawn. 
 
 We now began to unroll and examine the canvas 
 we had bought at Fort Snelling. Among this 
 material we found a large square known as a tent- 
 fly, which after being patched proved very service- 
 able. We also found three wall-tents in very good 
 condition, wdth some pieces of old A tents. One of 
 the wall-tents was but little worn ; and Mrs. Ryan 
 thought if she had a sewing-palm, such as sail- 
 makers and sailors use, she could make it as good 
 as new by a little sewing. 
 
78 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Later in the day, while looking over the tool- 
 chest which we had brought from home, among 
 some odds and ends such as are preserved by every 
 well-regulated Yankee family, we found a sewing- 
 palm, and a ball of sail-thread, which had belonged 
 to Aunt Hitty's husband. 
 
 We now began to cut the grass and level the 
 ground for our tents ; while Aleck and Peter cut 
 straight trees for ridge-poles, though it cost a good 
 deal of time to find such as were suitable for the 
 purpose. After driving two poles of the height of 
 the peaks of the tents perpendicularly into the 
 ground, we nailed the ridge-poles solidly to their 
 tops. Then setting posts at the corners of the 
 tents, we nailed to these other poles, laid hori- 
 zontally, but level with the eaves of the roof. 
 
 The tents were pitched with their entrances 
 facing each other, and with their sides parallel to 
 the lake. Matt and I both protested against this, 
 as we thought it would be pleasanter to look out 
 on the lake. 
 
 " You will be much better pleased with my plan 
 when you see what is intended," said my father in 
 reply to our expostulations. And so we were ; for 
 after the tents were securely staked to the ground, 
 he directed Aleck to nail another long pole to 
 connect the ridge-pole of the tents. We at first 
 thought this was a brace to make each tent more 
 secure ; but the reader can imagine our satisfaction 
 when the tent-fly was thrown over this ridge-pole, 
 
A NEW HOME IN THE WILDERNESS. 79 
 
 thus connecting the two tents, and securely fas- 
 tened by ropes whicli ran from the eyelet holes, in 
 the edge of the canvas fly, to the ground. 
 
 " This," said my father, " can be used for a sit- 
 ting-room and a dining-room." 
 
 This work had taken up most of the forenoon ; 
 but in the mean time Aunt Hitty had prepared 
 dinner, which was eaten at our former camping- 
 place. 
 
 We now set to work to construct a house where 
 cooking might be done with comfort during cold 
 and lainy weather. On the right, and very near 
 our tents, another fly was pitched for temporary 
 use until something more suitable could be con- 
 trived. 
 
 In each tent we drove nails in the eaves-poles 
 on which to hang our clothing, and Aleck put up 
 in both tents some shelves on which lamps and 
 other small household conveniences might stand. 
 The choicest of my father's books had been brought, 
 packed in two shallow boxes which were placed in 
 one trunk. When these boxes were unpacked, and 
 were placed one on the other, they formed a very 
 convenient bookcase, with three slielves in each, 
 making the whole about five and a half feet 
 high. 
 
 This bookcase was placed at the end of one of 
 the tents, and on the top was placed a clock, while 
 to the sides were secured several hooks for hats 
 and coats. Of the covers of the boxes a table was 
 
80 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 made, which was placed under our tent veranda, 
 or fly. 
 
 Two stakes were driven into the ground five feet 
 apart, but crossing each other like a letter X. The 
 tops of these stakes were sawed off very evenly; 
 and the boards were fastened together with cleats 
 and screws, and fastened down to the legs. When 
 this table was covered with a white cloth and 
 nicely set with dishes, it looked very inviting and 
 homelike. 
 
 The next morning we began the kitchen, digging 
 into the hillside, just below the spring, a square 
 place about five feet deep at the farthest end, with 
 sides gradually decreasing in height until that 
 toward the lake was level with the ground. We 
 then cut sod and built up the sides until the whole 
 formed a compact wall, rendered very strong by 
 breaking joints with the sod as is done with bricks 
 in masonry. 
 
 This, when trimmed off on the inside, was as 
 smooth as an ordinary plastered wall. We then 
 set up, at the ends of this structure, two posts on 
 which a ridge-pole was securely fastened. Over 
 this a piece of canvas was drawn for a roof. 
 
 As a substitute for a stove we built of stone, 
 which we picked up on the shore of the lake, a 
 square, box-like arrangement, open in front, and 
 cemented together by a white clay procured by 
 Peter Roy. Over this we placed a sheet-iron top 
 with holes for pots and kettles, which, at the sug- 
 
A NEW HOME IN THE WILDERNESS. 81 
 
 gestion of my Uncle John, had been made for us 
 before we left St. Paul. To this the stove-pipe was 
 fixed, and run up through the roof of the tent. 
 This was held in place by two perpendicular poles 
 set in the ground on each side, and running to the 
 peak of the tent, to which the pipe was securely 
 fastened by wires. When a fire was kindled, it 
 was found, except for baking purposes, to be a very 
 good stove. Around the walls of the kitchen Aleck 
 built shelves and a large cupboard with boards 
 from the boxes we had brought. When all was 
 finished. Aunt Hitty acknowledged that it was a 
 very comfortable and convenient kitchen. 
 
 My father had been steadily improving in health 
 since our arrival in Minnesota. Though his strength 
 was not great, he thought he had been benefited 
 by the work he had done ; and he enjoyed, as he had 
 not for years, the blessings of sound sleep and a 
 good appetite. The dry air was very invigorating 
 to us all, and even Aunt Hitty enthusiastically 
 declared that " it was making a new woman of 
 her." 
 
 My father. Matt, and I occupied one of the tents 
 for sleeping. Aunt Hitty and Mrs. Ryan the other, 
 while an A tent was put up for Peter Roy and 
 Aleck. When carpets and rugs had been spread 
 on the floor of the tents, and a centre-table built 
 for the evening lamp, the comfort of our dwelling 
 seemed complete. 
 
 The next day being Sunday, no work was done. 
 
82 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 After morning prayer we rambled around the 
 shores of the lake on a voyage of discovery. We 
 found the lakes connected by a deep but sluggish 
 stream. 
 
 This stream, with the lakes, formed a tongue or 
 peninsula of land, very level and apparently with 
 very rich soil. At one point in this peninsula a 
 bend in the smaller lake formed a narrow neck, not 
 over two hundred yards wide, across which it was 
 determined to build a fence and thus enclose about 
 sixty acres of pasturage for our stock. During the 
 next week this work was done and our cattle enclosed 
 in an area from which they could not stray or be 
 stolen and where they could have plenty of room 
 and water. Their safety was further insured by 
 the nearness of our habitation. 
 
 The situation of our farm was considered an ex- 
 tremely good one. We were but a few miles from 
 the military road, which extends from St. Anthony 
 to Fort Ripley, the latter not many miles above us ; 
 we were also near settlements on the Mississippi 
 River. 
 
 Roads were easily made on the prairie which 
 needed neither efradingf nor artificial material to 
 make them hard and dry. 
 
 Peter Roy thought there was a stream of water 
 connecting our lakes with the Mississippi. This 
 if true would enable us to convey grain and other 
 produce of our farm by means of a bateau or boat 
 to the towns on the Mississippi. 
 
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A NEW HOME IN THE WILDERNESS. 83 
 
 My father thought he might also find a market 
 at Fort Ripley. 
 
 As may he imagined, Matt and I were very 
 curious to know the details of Aleck's story ; and 
 one evening he told us his history, which, however, 
 my father already knew. 
 
 He had been "raised," as he called it, at Char- 
 lotte, North Carolina. His master, who had always 
 been very kind to him, had when he was seventeen 
 years old put him at work with a carpenter, whose 
 trade he had quickly learned. 
 
 " Who was your master ? " I inquired curiously. 
 
 " Massa George Spring war my massa's name. 
 Young Massa George war mighty fon' o" me ; we 
 war raised togeder." 
 
 " Was he kind to you ? " 
 
 " Bless yer, honey ! we used ter tote aroun' 
 togeder when we could des toddle. Massa George 
 might}^ fon' o' me, but his twin brer', Leroy, war 
 mighty ugly like, an' hate me wus' 'en pisen kase 
 I des hurt 'im one day. He sly like." 
 
 He told us that when he was nineteen years old 
 he had been allowed to marry a young girl owned 
 on a neighboring plantation, and had had one child, 
 a little girl. His young master was taken sick, and 
 went to New Orleans in 1849 for his health. At 
 this removal Aleck became the property of Leroy 
 Spring, who was the " black sheep " of the Spring 
 family. This man was morose, had an ugly temper, 
 and by Aleck's account was more of a gambler than 
 
84 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 a planter. He was soon in want of money, and 
 notwithstanding his promise not to sell Aleck, 
 sold him for seven hundred dollars to a negro 
 trader named Myer Myers. 
 
 " An' dat war dog cheap fur a carpenter, I reckon. 
 Wall, dat ol' Massa Myers, he war a Jew I reckon. 
 He tuck away all my good clo's. My misses. Young 
 Massa George's wife, she war mighty fon' o' me, and 
 larned me to read and write. Dat Jew, Massa 
 Myers, he tuck me to Charleston an' put me in an' 
 ol' wuck house wid a lot o' common trash. Sea 
 Island niggers, an' sol' us all as a prim' lot o' cotton 
 an' rice hans'. Dar war a lot o' little chillun with 
 us. De auctioneer sa'd my name war " Jack," but 
 I brought one thousand, one hundred dollas, clean 
 cash ! So fo' de Lawd, dat ole' Myers made fo' 
 hundred dollas out o' me." 
 
 After this Aleck had hard fare and hard work. 
 Unaccustomed to these, and taken from his wife 
 and child, Aleck grew discontented, and as he 
 expressed it, "powerful out o' sorts." He was 
 whippet!, and this treatment made him discon- 
 tented and disobedient. He ran away, but was 
 cflught and again sold, this time in the New 
 Orleans market. There he worked for a while on 
 a sugar plantation, and was next hired out to a man 
 in St. Louis where he had been so harshly treated 
 that he again ran away, and by the help of the 
 colored waiters was secreted on board a freight 
 boat bound up the Mississippi. Fearing that the 
 
A NEW HOME IN THE WILDERNESS. 85 
 
 boat Y/ould be searched, be had left it below Galena, 
 and, travelling on foot and by night, he had reached 
 that place. Here he remained secreted until in- 
 formed by some colored people that a New Eng- 
 land man and his family had just arrived, on their 
 way to St. Paul by boat. 
 
 After looking at '^ de ol' Massa," as Aleck called 
 my father, he concluded it would be safe to ask his 
 help. 
 
 Here let me say in parenthesis, that afterwards, 
 during the war, I had occasion to observe with 
 astonishment that the Southern black people are 
 acute physiognomists, and I have seldom known 
 one of them to make a mistake in selecting persons 
 likely to help and befriend him. 
 
 Aleck had watched my father until he found 
 him alone, and then had told him enough of his 
 story to secure his sympathy. 
 
 The result was that he assisted Aleck as we have 
 seen in preceding chapters. During the search at 
 Dubuque, one of the colored waiters had secreted 
 him in a barrel which Aleck declared to be a 
 " mighty tight place fur a colored pusson." 
 
 The next day we resumed our work on the farm, 
 having more friendly sympathy with Aleck than 
 before. 
 
86 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PREPARING THE FARM. 
 
 After the domestic preparations mentioned in 
 the preceding chapter, we at once began breaking 
 land for seedinsf. There were about a hundred 
 acres between tlie two lakes, part of which was 
 used for pasturage ; the remainder we determined 
 to plough. It was impossible to raise wheat or 
 oats the first year ; since those grains are sown as 
 early in the spring as the frost will permit the 
 ground to be worked, and a wheat crop on the sod 
 is generally not worth harvesting. 
 
 Peter was a good ploughman, and using the three 
 ploughs under his instructions we began breaking 
 the virgin sod. Peter was as strong as a giant, and, 
 like most athletic large men, proved as good-natured 
 as he was powerful. His chief fault as a farmer 
 was that he sometimes dropped work without 
 notice, to pursue any game that came in his way. 
 
 Aleck, as I have said, was bred a carpenter, and 
 proved very handy with tools. He and Peter soon 
 became fast friends ; the latter assuming the 
 part of patron and protector, and the other a 
 follower and pupil in all that concerned prairie 
 
PREPARING THE FARM. 87 
 
 life. Both were good men, but they were very 
 unlike. Aleck was merry and talkative. He 
 could read and write, and had a good general 
 knowledge of farming, but had seasons of indo- 
 lence when he could not sleep nor eat enough. 
 
 Peter never seemed to sleep except with one eye 
 open : a word or movement would awaken him. 
 His senses were trained to quick perception ; and 
 though he could not read a printed page, he read 
 the great book of nature, whose pages were often 
 unintelligible to our untrained senses, with almost 
 infallible insight. Trampled grass or wheat, or 
 a broken twig, revealed to him what game had 
 passed over the ground. 
 
 He had been for several years what is known 
 as a voyageur ; and among his duties was the trans, 
 portation of baggage or provisions or canoes, over 
 portages, from one stream or lake to another. He 
 showed me the strap and collar he had used for 
 that purpose. The strap was made to pass around 
 the forehead, and was when used attached to each 
 end of the burden carried. We examined this har- 
 ness very curiously ; and in response to some ques- 
 tion, Peter said, " I carry barrel o' flour twelve 
 miles once." That immense burdens were carried 
 by these voyageurs in this manner is among the 
 traditions of Minnesota. That Peter did not over- 
 rate his own strength and endurance was constantly 
 proved to us. He had qualities inherited from his 
 Scotch father, as well as from his Inchan mother, 
 
88 ' TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 and followed the customs of each quite impar- 
 tially. 
 
 Under Peter's instructions Matt and I both 
 learned to use the breaking plough. 
 
 Matt was justly proud of his mules ; in a few 
 weeks they had entirely recovered from their 
 wretched condition and had become the best team 
 on the farm. Like all mules, they had seasons of 
 incomprehensible contrariness ; at such times they 
 would kick so viciously that Matt declared they 
 would have made holes in the sky, if there had 
 been substance enough to show where the hole was. 
 
 My father's health and strength were renewed 
 to an extraordinary degree, and although he was 
 not naturally a strong man he followed the break- 
 ing plough for hours together. 
 
 We planted five acres of potatoes and ten of 
 Indian corn, prepared and stocked with great care 
 a kitchen garden, and devoted another acre to 
 turnips and carrots. After this planting, we still 
 continued ploughing until nearly fifty acres were 
 turned up to the sweetening, disintegrating influ- 
 ences of frost and sun. 
 
 As an experiment, and against Peter's protest, 
 we harrowed and sowed two acres with wheat and 
 oats ; but on account of late sowing and tough sod, 
 the crop was worth little except to feed while green 
 to the cattle. Yet we comforted ourselves with the 
 belief that this land would yield better another 
 year. 
 
PREPARING THE FARM. 89 
 
 Occasionally Matt and I would spend a half a 
 day in fishing or shooting. 
 
 Shortly after our arrival, one day towards even- 
 ing, we thought we heard the " lionk " of wild 
 geese. " That sounds like wild geese ! " said my 
 father. 
 
 " Yes," said Peter, " goose go North ; like as 
 not light in lake for night, — get wild rice." 
 
 Creeping with Peter around the edge of the lake, 
 we discovered the geese, noisily congratulating 
 themselves on having such fine quarters for the 
 night. We followed Peter on hands and knees to 
 a clump of wild rice, and at his signal blazed away 
 into the gabbling flock. With a tremendous flut- 
 tering the surprised birds rose and wheeled in the 
 air, leaving several we had shot in the lake. 
 
 We had left the dog Garrison tied lest he should 
 frighten away our game. I now ran to our tent 
 and brought him to see if he could get the geese 
 for us ; but as he did'nt understand what was 
 required of him, Peter finally stripped and swam 
 out to secure the birds. Garry followed him into 
 the water, and seeing what was wanted, with 
 wonderful sagacity, began bringing the geese to 
 the shore ; from that day he seemed to understand 
 when we wished him to retrieve anything from 
 the water. 
 
 Peter, pleased at Garry's sagacity, patted him 
 on the head saying '•' Good dog understand." 
 
 The next day we had a feast of wild goose, 
 
90 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 A few days after, as Matt and I were lying in the 
 grass, we heard the bugle-like note of sand-cranes. 
 The birds wheeled as if to survey the ground, and 
 then settled among the wild rice. On a slight move- 
 ment by one of us, the whole flock was in the air 
 again. We fired, and more by accident than good 
 aim brought down one which lay as if dead. When 
 Matt and I advanced toward him he jumped up, 
 showing fight, and making an ugly hissing sound. 
 As Matt seized the long-legged fellow, he pecked 
 straight into his face and eyes, and had the audacity 
 to follow up Matt's hasty retreat ; by this time I 
 was able to reach his flank and level him with my 
 ramrod. 
 
 We carried the steel-blue bird home ; and when 
 I laughingly told Peter about the adventure, he 
 told us gravely that wounded cranes were danger- 
 ous with their sharp beaks, as they always strike 
 at the eye. He had known a hunter who had his 
 eyes destroyed by them. 
 
 Perhaps the spice of danger made the broiled 
 breast of this bird particularly delicious. 
 
 Hardly a day now passed but that the monot- 
 ony of our hard work was broken by some adventure 
 which, besides the sport, brought some delicious 
 variety of food to our table ; and what appetites 
 the hard work and the dry, pure air gave us ! 
 
 The lakes were literally swarming with trout, 
 pickerel, and other varieties of fish. 
 
 As it became warmer we bathed almost every 
 
PREPARING THE FARM. 91 
 
 evening after our work was done, and afterwards 
 looked (as boys will look at anything unattain- 
 able) at the wooded island which lay midway in 
 the larger lake. Once, when after our bath we 
 had expressed our desires, my father said humor- 
 ously, " ' The unattainable with boys is the desir- 
 able.' Sometime wlien I am at the settlement I 
 must bring up the material for building a boat." 
 
 At last planting was over, and we had a little 
 time, as Aleck said, "to sit around and see the 
 craps grow. Golly, nebber did see any sich craps 
 as dis yere ; dey hurry up mighty-like as if dey 
 'fraid dey won't git time to grow ; " and it was 
 truly wonderful how vigorous and thrifty every- 
 thing we planted seemed to be. 
 
 In the climate of Minnesota, a crop grows and 
 matures with wonderful quickness, as if to make 
 up for the shortness of the season. 
 
 Matt and I became so impatient to visit the 
 island that at last we swam over to it, which so 
 alarmed my father that he promised us if we 
 would not venture again, that during the week he 
 would bring up from the settlement the material 
 for building a boat. So one day on the return of 
 the team from the river town, we found it loaded 
 with doors, windows, a quantity of matched lum- 
 ber, and other building material. 
 
 " What are the sash and doors for ? " I inquired 
 of Peter. 
 
 " Build house," replied Peter, 
 
92 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 I was still perplexed between the disproportion 
 of the doors and windows to the other building 
 material. While piling up the scantling and the 
 other lumber Aleck expressed the same perplexity 
 that had troubled me, by saying, " Mighty queer 
 house ! all do's and winders ! Ho I I reckon we'll 
 tote some logs from dat island an' build log house." 
 
 My attention was, however, drawn to two long 
 thin boards eighteen feet in length and two feet 
 wide. 
 
 " What are those for ? " I asked. 
 
 Peter with his usual economy of words replied, 
 " Boat." 
 
 When I wondered how a boat was to be built 
 with those boards he said, " See big boat by 
 and by." 
 
 One day, after a hard morning's work running 
 the cultivator among our corn and potatoes, my 
 father directed Peter to unhitch the horses, which 
 he hurriedly did, saying, " Build boat." 
 
 So Aleck began to sharpen the plane and chisel, 
 and under my father's direction sawed out a piece 
 of oak plank about three feet long into a triangu- 
 lar form and smoothed it with a plane, and then 
 got out a piece o| board for the stem-piece of the 
 boat. Next a form was made to preserve the shape 
 of the boat. Aleck planed down one end of each of 
 the long boards I have mentioned, so that they were 
 almost bevelled to a point. Peter held the end not 
 bevelled as high as required, while it was nailed 
 
PREPARING THE FARM. 93 
 
 with wroughtriron nails firmly to the triangular 
 upright already prepared for a bow-piece. When 
 this was done the other side was secured in a 
 corresponding manner, bringing the two pieces of 
 board to a sharp point for the bows. The portion 
 of the boat known as the " gunwale " was resting 
 on the ground, the bottom of the boat being up. 
 While the boards were in this position the stern- 
 piece was carefully adjusted, the form made to 
 preserve the boat's shape was placed in the centre, 
 and the long thin side-boards were temporarily 
 tacked to it. Then the ends of the boards at the 
 stern were nailed to the stern-piece. After these 
 were properly fastened the boards were sawed to 
 an angle towards the stern-piece. Quarter-inch 
 boards were then nailed across for the bottom of 
 the boat. At every joint was placed a layer of 
 cotton as thin as a wafer, to prevent leaking when 
 it was placed in the water. 
 
 This work occupied several days, for we only 
 worked a part of each day. When the work 
 began to assume the shape and proportions of a 
 boat, of the kind known on the seacoast as a 
 sharpie, but which Peter called a bateau, we were 
 greatly delighted. 
 
 Sometime before this Aleck had sawed some 
 crooked oak knees to strengthen the boat inside. 
 At last the hull of the boat was completed, thole- 
 pins for rowing were fitted, and then Matt and I 
 were allowed to do the fascinating work of melt- 
 
94 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 ing pitch and running it into her seams, and of 
 painting her. We selected for her name " The 
 Lady of the Lake ; " but when we had finished the 
 first two words we found we had used all the 
 space on her stern, so that her name would be 
 " The Lady." Later we concluded to dispense 
 with the last letter, and so finally she was named 
 " The Lad." All this gave to Matt and me an 
 inexpressible pleasure, known only to boys. 
 
 My aunt diminished my pleasure somewhat, 
 because of the paint which she found on my 
 trousers, especially on one part, which, that I 
 might the better contemplate our artistic effects, 
 I had deposited on the bottom of the boat, before 
 the treacherous paint was sufficiently dry for such 
 an experiment. On attempting to rise I could not 
 be separated from the object of my loving admira- 
 tion without leaving my trousers as a sort of 
 tribute of my regards. 
 
 I believe that to this day I have never seen any 
 paint or pitch stick so obstinately as did that 
 paint. 
 
 I never knew Peter to laugh before ; but even 
 he laughed when Matt shouted, " An' sure, we'll 
 have to launch him with the boat ! " 
 
 Our craft was at last put into the water, and 
 proved serviceable there. She was sixteen feet 
 long, had three seats, could easily carry five 
 people, and in case of need twice that number. 
 
 The first use made of the boat was to explore 
 
PREPARING THE FARM. 95 
 
 the island. We found it to contain at least fifty 
 acres, finely wooded with pine and sugar-maple. 
 
 My father had made arrangements to secure 
 this island as a needful adjunct to our farm. 
 
 On farther exploration it was proved that the 
 lakes had an outlet into the Mississippi liiver, 
 which gave us great satisfaction, as we could 
 easily thereby reach the towns on the Mississippi. 
 We could even go to St. Anthony in our boat, but 
 how to return was another matter. 
 
 It was decided that during the fall and winter 
 we would cut down some of the pines, use the 
 branches and tops for firewood, and float the logs 
 in the spring to one of the sawmills on the 
 Mississippi, to be sawed for house material at 
 some future time. 
 
 This timber proved a mine of wealth to us, 
 although, as will be seen, we made no immediate 
 use of it. 
 
 Although Aunt Hitty never went to rest at 
 night without looking under her bed for Indians, 
 we had up to this time seen none except a few 
 who passed between Fort Ripley and St. Paul on 
 the military road. 
 
 One afternoon we heard a frightful screaming 
 at our tents, and hurrying there found Aunt Hitty, 
 with her apron over her head, and Mrs. Ryan 
 crouching in a corner. They were frightened 
 nearly out of their wits by a party of Indians 
 that had ridden down to the lake and thrown off 
 
96 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 their blankets, leaving notliing on but their 
 breech-cloths and calico shirts. As we hurried up 
 a squaw mounted astride of a pony, with a child 
 on her back, rushed by us, pounding the horse 
 unmercifully to increase its speed. The party at 
 the lake, horses and all, took a good bath. 
 
 Peter had meanwhile come up and had reassured 
 us by saying " Good Injuns ! " 
 
 Thus reassured Matt and I returned our rifles 
 to their places, for in anticipation of trouble at so 
 unusual a visit we had hastily seized them. 
 
 After they had had all the water they cared for, 
 they came up to our tents, and, as Aunt Hitty 
 expressed it, began to " jabber." The only Eng- 
 lish word we could understand was " rum." Peter 
 in reply said sternly, with an inclination of his 
 head towards my father, " No rum, good man," 
 and then said a few words to them in their 
 own language. 
 
 The squaw had dismounted, with the child (a 
 little girl about eight years old), near our tent. 
 
 My aunt went to them, and taking up the little 
 girl in her arms tried to talk to her, but the child 
 preserved an immovable face. Aunt Hitty could 
 not make her look at her, change her position, or 
 move a muscle. 
 
 " I really believe," said my aunt, " that the 
 little thing is afraid." 
 
 Aunt Hitty then went to the tent and returned 
 with some red and blue ribbons, one of which she 
 
PREPARING THE FARM. 97 
 
 tied around the neck of the child, another around 
 her waist, and, with the third tied up her glossy 
 black hair. All this was a by-play while we were 
 engaged with the Indians. I have since learned 
 that Indian maidens are the most timid of all 
 girls. The little girl made a very pretty picture, 
 standing like a statue in her bright decorations. 
 
 Finally, at a sharp word of command from their 
 leader, they all mounted, and as they rode away 
 amid the flutter of red blankets and clatter of 
 steeds I saw the little girl glancing over her 
 shoulder as if for a parting look. 
 
 After they were gone I asked Aunt Hitty what 
 she thought of the Indians. 
 
 " Poor folksy ! " she said, an expression she 
 often applied to those low in social culture. 
 
 Mrs. Ryan, with the repulsion often seen among 
 the poor people of one race for those of another, 
 declared them " murthering thaves," and. said she, 
 " It's the likes of them as makes poor lone women 
 afraid to stay alone." 
 
 Matt took great offence at what he considered 
 their lack of manners, and shook his fist at the 
 retreating Indians, saying "• lo'll bust yer oie, fur ye, 
 if yer comes blatherin' around here agin ; " and 
 then turning to me he said, " Sure they should have 
 taken off their hats to yer father." 
 
 " But, Matt," I expostulated, "they didn't have 
 any hats." 
 
 " Sure, then, they should have lifted their hair 
 
98 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 to him," cried the angry Matt, at which Peter 
 took hold of Matt's scalp-lock and said grimly, 
 " Lift your hair, boy." 
 
 Meanwhile the crops were in fine condition ; and 
 during the growing season, when not engaged with 
 the cultivator or in hoeing in the garden (the last 
 of which had greatly absorbed Aleck's attention), 
 it was thought best to begin building a house 
 more suitable for winter. 
 
THE SOD HOUSE. 99 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SOD HOUSE. 
 
 The great charm of life in a new country con- 
 sists partly in the fact that the settler must create 
 his comforts from the rough stores of nature. 
 
 It seems a rule in human experience that we 
 should love best that which causes us the most 
 care and trouble in getting and preserving ; that 
 which we easily gain, we as easily throw aside. 
 
 The dweller in a large city, or even a village, 
 can little appreciate or understand the pleasure 
 felt by the new settler in producing comforts from 
 rough and often inhospitable surroundings. It 
 seems as if nature designed to invest such toil 
 with a delight which is increased by its difficulties. 
 The home feeling is also strengthened rather than 
 weakened by this conflict and hardship. The 
 piquant spice of indescribable flavor derived from 
 rearing the rude surroundings of a pioneer's home 
 is one of the fascinations of this kind of life. 
 
 It was now the month of July, and our crops 
 promised a bountiful return for our labors. The 
 corn planted on the sod was luxuriant beyond 
 description. During August we had new pota- 
 
100 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 toes on our table. We had taken great pains with 
 our garden, and the yield of vegetables promised 
 to be very large. In addition to the land already 
 ploughed, we had broken over sixteen acres for 
 winter wheat, which was to be seeded in the fall 
 of the year. 
 
 One day in July, to our surprise, we found Peter 
 mowing prairie grass. After a half-acre or less 
 had been levelled, the portion which had been cut 
 was carefully tied up in sheaves and the remainder 
 was raked up and carried away. 
 
 The plough which was used for breaking the 
 sod was brought out and carefully sharpened. A 
 breaking-plough cuts the sod from twelve to six- 
 teen inches wide and from two and a half to three 
 inches thick, and also turns the sod bottom side 
 up. 
 
 The ploughing in this instance was done with 
 such unusual care as to make me very curious as 
 to its purpose. 
 
 The sod was cut with a sharpened spade into 
 pieces fifteen inches long, and these were carefully 
 piled up to season or dry. 
 
 " What kind o' crap yer goin' ter raise dar, 
 Pete ? " inquired Aleck. 
 
 " Build house," was the half-breed's sententious 
 reply. 
 
 Our corn and vegetables were now in such a 
 condition that it looked as though we might have 
 a little leisure for fishing and shooting. 
 
THE SOD HOUSE. 101 
 
 Aleck expressed his satisfaction by saying, 
 " Notliin' fer dis chile ter do but sit on de fence 
 an' see de craps grow I " 
 
 After a day of rest and recreation, as we sat 
 together one evening in onr tent, Peter said in his 
 brief, energetic style, " To-morrow build house." 
 
 Aleck, who, as he had often said, had been raised 
 a carpenter, looked surprised, and demurred at the 
 scarcity of lumber by saying, " Mighty slim fixin's 
 fer a house ; nuffin to make dat house of but do's 
 and winders." 
 
 Peter replied between whiffs of his pipe, " Sod 
 house ; lumber 'nough, good 'nough." 
 
 The next day we selected the place for our new 
 dwelling, or to put it more correctly, Peter and 
 my father had previously selected the site and 
 only gave us the pleasure of talking it over and 
 re-locating it under their direction. 
 
 The spot selected was near the spring of water, 
 on a level spot near the top of the gradually ascend- 
 ing slope opposite the lakes. 
 
 Back of this arose a slight ridge, which Peter 
 explained would be a protection against the force 
 of the wind, in case of cyclones or blizzards which 
 sometimes occur in that section of country. 
 
 Aleck showed undisguised amazement and curi- 
 osity at everything that was done. His thick lips 
 parted contemptuously, and at times he rolled his 
 eyes so frightfully that nothing but the whites 
 were visible. But in spite of his protests he went 
 
102 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 faithfully to work to make the measurements from* 
 a rough plan which was produced by my father, 
 and set the corner posts into the ground for the 
 contemplated building. 
 
 During the week Peter began carting the sod, 
 which had been piled up on the prairie. 
 
 The outlines of a house thirty-five feet long by 
 twenty-five broad were marked out on the site. 
 Aleck viewed the structure with suspicion, occa- 
 sionally stopping his work to look at the meagre 
 pile of lumber at hand, and then with a shake of 
 his head would mutter a protest against trying to 
 build a house without lumber. " Massa Clifton," 
 he said, " we hasn't got 'nuff lumber to build up 
 one chink o' dat house. I'se raised a carpenter, 
 I war. Nebber seed sich a plum fool as dat Pete ; 
 dat Injun do'an know nuffin' 'bout house buildin'. 
 What's dem sod fer, sar ? " 
 
 In reply my father only smiled and said, " You'll 
 see pretty soon, Aleck." 
 
 It will be seen that Aleck was both sceptical 
 and jealous. It did look to me like a big under- 
 taking, to attempt to build a house with the 
 material at hand ; but I was not likely t6 apj^ly 
 Aleck's epithet, " plum foolishness," to anything 
 my father undertook by Peter's advice. 
 
 In the evening my father explained to us that 
 he was about to build a large sod house. He told 
 us that these houses were common among the 
 settlers of the prairie ; and although we had never 
 
THE SOD HOUSE. 103 
 
 seen them, there were several within a few miles 
 of us. These were all small, but he saw no reason 
 why one could not be built of larger proportions 
 and more convenient than those generally in use. 
 When properly made they resembled in many 
 respects the " adobe " houses of Mexico and Cali- 
 fornia. They had, moreover, tlie excellent quali- 
 ties of being warm in winter and cool in summer, 
 and he believed that they were superior to any log 
 or frame building that we could hope to get time 
 to construct before the coming of winter. 
 
 To this Peter gave assent by saying, " Warm 
 'nough, cool 'nough, good 'nough." 
 
 This explanation increased our interest when 
 work was resumed the next morning. 
 
 Aleck Avorked skilfully from my father's plans, 
 and set the posts for the doors and windows and 
 also the few strong rafters running from the ridge- 
 pole to the horizontal joists spiked to the top of the 
 posts set at the four corners of the building. 
 Posts on each side of the house outlined the win- 
 dow spaces and either side of the door space. In 
 front the door and window frames were made 
 unusually strong by settling scantlings into the 
 ground reaching to the joists at the eaves, 
 although Peter said he had never seen it done 
 before and thought it unnecessary. 
 
 While Father and Aleck worked at the carpen- 
 ter's bench getting out casings for the windows, 
 the rest began laying the sod walls of the house. 
 
104 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 This sod was composed of a curioas twisted com- 
 pact mass of strong grass roots and earth. The 
 pieces were laid in the same manner as bricks are 
 laid, by carefully breaking joints. 
 
 Peter mixed some very adhesive clay with a 
 little chopped straw to form a mortar which was 
 used between the sod and around window and 
 door spaces, where the sod was cut to fit the 
 upright scantlings to which the window casings 
 were to be adjusted. In a few days the walls were 
 complete and proved very solid and strong. Dur- 
 ing the building of the walls Aleck often left his 
 work to see that they were " plumb," an inter- 
 ference to which Peter good-naturedly assented by 
 saying " More straight, more strong." 
 
 I now learned why the sod had been piled up to 
 dry. It was that they might not shrink away and 
 leave large cracks around the doors and windows. 
 
 As the work progressed Peter expressed his 
 satisfaction by saying, " Good 'nough for Queen." 
 
 As the house began to assume form, even Aleck 
 became enthusiastic, and said, " Massa Clifton, 
 reckon dis'll be a right smart house. Dog gone 
 if dis yere boy eber seen one like it befo'. Some 
 good do's and winders, sar ! " 
 
 I think no boy princes ever viewed the erection 
 of a palace with the satisfaction with which Matt 
 and I contemplated the building of this sod house. 
 
 Finally the side walls were finished and the 
 inside made almost as smooth as plaster. It was 
 
THE SOD HOUSE. 105 
 
 divided into rooms by three sod walls which ran 
 partially across, leaving a space in the centre some 
 five feet wide, where no wall had been built. 
 
 These were also smoothed off, and two coats of 
 whitewash were applied to all the inside walls. 
 When dry they looked almost as well as if plas- 
 tered. The roof was made by nailing pieces of 
 board, Avhich had been sawed into two-inch strips, 
 across the rafters. This frame work was then 
 thatched with the long prairie grass securely fas- 
 tened upon it, and over this sods were carefully 
 laid overlapping each other as is done with 
 shingles. 
 
 " No cold, no water, get in house," said Peter, 
 and so it proved. 
 
 One problem remained unsolved after all the 
 work was done. What should be done for chim- 
 neys? My father proposed one of sod, but Peter 
 had declared them to be unsafe by saying, " Sod 
 fall down." 
 
 Aleck declared that very good chimneys could 
 be built with mud and green sticks, and his plan 
 was adopted. We had never seen anything of 
 this kind before, and were very curious about 
 them. They were built by crossing the sticks in 
 a square like a cob house, and filling the chinks 
 with mud. I have often since seen stick chimneys 
 in Southern cabins, but never one so workmanlike 
 and handsome as those built by Aleck for our sod 
 house. 
 
106 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Aleck worked with great zeal at these chimneys, 
 and also in finishing the interior of the house. 
 
 Perhaps my early impressions are more vivid 
 than those of later years, but I do not remember 
 ever having seen a workman engaged on a build- 
 ing of this description show more ingenuity than 
 he did. 
 
 A partition of matched boards divided the front 
 of the house into a kitchen and a sitting-room, the 
 first ten feet by fifteen in size, one chimney serv- 
 ing both rooms. The remainder of the house was 
 divided into four rooms, sod walls running across 
 the house, and matched boards forming the parti- 
 tions on the hall side. Ordinary doors were hung, 
 and each bedroom had one window. In one of 
 the rear rooms Aleck had built another chimney, 
 by which both the hall and the room could be 
 heated. When the partitions were painted and 
 curtains hung at the windows, the rooms had 
 a very pleasing effect. Even Aunt Hitty, not 
 accustomed to over-praise anything, admitted that 
 the house " would do." Closets, shelves, a kitchen 
 table, and other conveniences, made the house so 
 neat that one could scarcely believe it to be built 
 of sod. 
 
 When racks for our guns, and cases for my 
 father's books, had been placed in the sitting-room, 
 a mantel-piece provided for the clock, and a brightly 
 covered table placed in the centre, we thought our- 
 selves not only comfortable, but extremely fine. 
 
THE SOD HOUSE. 107 
 
 My father's room, as well as Aunt Hitty's, had a 
 good bedstead ; but the others had only shal- 
 low, box-like bunks, which were, after all, very 
 satisfactory. 
 
 Aunt Hitty had at first looked at the sod house 
 with unconcealed contempt. She was sure it 
 would tumble down ; but now that it was finished 
 she was delighted, and expressed it by exclaiming, 
 "I declar, who'd a thought it? A freak of natur ! " 
 and similar exclamations peculiar to herself. 
 
 During harvesting time we continued to live 
 in the tent. 
 
 My father, on one of his visits to the settlement, 
 bought two air-tight sheet-iron stoves. To those 
 who think we were taking extravagant precautions 
 for heating, I will say that winter weather in 
 Minnesota is very cold, the mercury sometimes 
 falling to 30, and even 40, degrees below zero. 
 After the twentieth of July, which is about the 
 time when crops begin to mature in this latitude, 
 we began the work of harvesting. It was finished 
 during August, and the yield seemed to us extraor- 
 dinary. We gathered eight hundi-ed bushels of 
 turnips to the acre, and eight hundred bushels of 
 potatoes, most of which were sold at Fort Ripley. 
 We had six hundred bushels of carrots, which, 
 with turnips, were fed to the stock in the winter. 
 
 There was a good yield of corn, most of which 
 was sold for fair prices at the settlement, return- 
 ing enough money to buy our winter provisions, 
 
108 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 and pay Aleck, Peter, and Matt their wages as 
 was agreed. We also had plenty of vegetables 
 for winter use. 
 
 After harvest the weather still continued fine, 
 but with nights so chilly that we were glad to 
 strike our tents and move into our new house. 
 Before it became too cold, we had built a sod barn, 
 with a canvas roof, for the cattle, and had cut 
 enough prairie grass for their food ; this, without 
 the carrots and turnips, was sufficient to keep them 
 throughout the winter. 
 
 The weather continuing fair (although it was 
 the last of September) we began breaking the land 
 for which Matt had filed pre-emption papers. 
 
 A widow or a minor at the head of a family 
 may pre-empt land, but must first file a written 
 declaration of his intention to, and must also live 
 for a certain time on the land, and make improve- 
 ments thereon. 
 
 Peter and Aleck had made similar application ; 
 and Aleck, poor fellow, was full of anticipation 
 of building himself a sod house " like Massa Clif- 
 ton's." 
 
 "I'se go down Souf by and by, and buy my- 
 self and my wife of dat ole Massa Jenkins, an' 
 lib here like a possum all de days ob my life ! " 
 said Aleck. 
 
 My father looking up said compassionately, " No 
 one owns you but God, Aleck. It seems hard 
 for you to understand that." 
 
THE SOD HOUSE. 109 
 
 Then laying his hand on Aleck's shoulder he 
 said, " Never forget God's claim on you. Let us 
 ask Him to restore you those you love ; " and 
 although Peter and Matt were Roman Catholics, 
 they knelt with us, and when they arose from their 
 knees their cheeks were wet with tears, so elo- 
 quent is a good man's prayer. 
 
 Peter often expressed his sentiments regarding 
 my father, by saying, " Good man, whisper, God 
 hear him. Bad man, yell loud, God not hear 
 him." 
 
 " This seems to be the belief of many people of 
 every creed," said my father (who did not see the 
 compliment intended for himself), "but God hears 
 us according to our needs, and not according to 
 our deserts." 
 
 I never knew my father to try to proselyte a 
 man of another creed to his own : he always 
 said, " A man's belief is between himself and 
 God. If his life does not speak for him, it is use- 
 less tcT utter words regarding his religion." 
 
 When my father had urged Peter to take up 
 land, Peter inflated his lungs and with a kingly 
 air said, " What want land for when I breathe all 
 sky, all heaven ? " 
 
 I have since observed that the half-breeds 
 of this region, although they assume the habits of 
 the whites for a time, seldom settle on a farm of 
 their own. In this tney show the characteristics 
 of their Indian mothers. They seem unhappy 
 
110 TOM CLIFTON, 
 
 i 
 
 unless, as Peter once expressed it, they can " pull 
 up stakes and move any time." 
 
 Peter, when under good influences, was a good 
 man, and he seemed to reverence my father. But 
 twice since we had known him he had been to the 
 settlement ; and when on his return we had asked 
 him what he had been doing he had replied, 
 " Peter bad man, get drunk." 
 
 My father looked sorrowful at these times ; and 
 it pained Peter more than words of reproof, for he 
 was heard to say, " Big heart, brother look sorry, 
 make heart ache ! " Peter, from his pay, had 
 bought a cow, while Matt had added a colt and a 
 bull to his stock, and had bought hens and 
 chickens, although he was obliged to do extra 
 work to take care of them. 
 
 ^J 
 
HUNTING IN MINNESOTA. Ill 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HUNTING- IN MINNESOTA. 
 
 We were now comfortably settled for the winter, 
 and were at liberty to indulge our taste for fishing 
 and hunting to a greater extent than had been 
 thought best during the summer. 
 
 My father required Matt and me to study and 
 recite to him every evening. At first I thought 
 this a great hardship ; but he had a peculiar talent 
 for investing every subject he taught with such 
 interest, that his pupil was always desirous of 
 knowing more, so that 'study and recitation were 
 kept up during the entire winter. 
 
 Matt had never been to school, but in some way 
 had learned to read and write. He was very 
 eager to learn, and went at his lessons with what 
 seemed to me needless enthusiasm. 
 
 Father's health continued to improve daily, so 
 that Aunt Hitty thought he looked many years 
 younger than when we left Centreboro. I have 
 emphasized this fact, for it was one wliich we felt 
 would have justified our experiment, even had the 
 farm been a failure. 
 
 Aleck took great pleasure in contriving conveni- 
 
112 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 ences for the sod house, over which his enthusiasm 
 was boundless. 
 
 " Clar to gracious," said he, " nebber want no 
 better house dan dat dar one. Mos' as good a 
 house as Massa George's, whar I'se raised in Car- 
 lina, sar ! Jes' look at dem do's and winders. 
 Clar dey's mos' good nuff to eat. Nebber want no 
 better house dan dat, sar ! " 
 
 Matt and I now devoted whole days to hunting 
 with Peter, with an enjoyment that can only be 
 understood by boys who have engaged in such 
 wild sport. I do not know that we were more 
 delighted than Garry, who would bark and whine 
 with delight whenever we took down our rifles. 
 
 The sandhill cranes gathered in large numbers 
 around the grain which we did not consider worth 
 harvesting ; but it was hard for us to get near 
 them, until Peter taught us to lie in ambush for 
 them, by setting up a corn-shock and spreading 
 out the base of it wide enough to hide us. The 
 cranes were very shy ; but we learned to wait 
 patiently until, making a broad circle in the air, 
 with their peculiar cry, these bluish-gray, long- 
 legged birds would settle on some favorite feeding- 
 ground, all unsuspicious of the danger concealed 
 in the corn-shocks near. 
 
 Our greatest sport, however, was duck and wild 
 goose shooting, of which there was great abun- 
 dance on the prairie. 
 
 Garry soon learned that he must lie still while 
 
HUNTING IN MINNESOTA. 113 
 
 waiting for the order to "fetch 'em." On such 
 occasions he would wait patiently, with his nose 
 between his paws, although quivering with desire 
 to be at the birds. 
 
 Peter had great patience and ability in teaching 
 animals, and although he had never struck Garry 
 a blow, the dog was his obedient pupil. 
 
 In the small grassy ponds that abound on the 
 Minnesota prairies, mallards, widgeons, and spring- 
 tails are found concealed among the wild rice, 
 reeds, and rushes, with which they are thickly 
 grown. 
 
 During September father announced that he 
 was about to visit St. Paul to buy stores for 
 winter. At first he proposed to take Peter with 
 him ; but I protested against this arrangement, 
 because it was so much greater fun to hunt with 
 Peter than without him. Aleck did not understand 
 sports, and therefore took but comparatively little 
 interest in them. 
 
 So it was arranged that Aleck was to accom- 
 pany father to St. Paul, while Peter was to remain 
 at home to care of the stock and to accompany us 
 in huntinof. 
 
 Our delight was great when after their depart- 
 ure Peter examined his rifle and shot-gun and said, 
 " Now go shoot big ducks, Whirr ! " The last 
 word Peter pronounced with a great roll of the r's, 
 and spread out his hands and fingers in pantomime, 
 indicating the flight of birds. 
 
114 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 So with our guns on our shoulders we followed 
 Peter to the prairie where there were several 
 sloughs or marshes, one of which we stealthily 
 approached. I crept up to a musk-rat mound and 
 stood guard. Peter and Matt took a position on 
 the other side of the pond. I was not able to see 
 the use of all this, as not a feather could be seen, 
 and only my confidence in Peter's sagacity restrained 
 me from expressing my distrust. 
 
 When all were concealed in the rushes, at a 
 signal from Peter, Matt fired at random over the 
 slough. In an instant, with a prodigious quack- 
 ing and fluttering, a flock of ducks sprang into 
 the air, making a break in the direction of our 
 lake. I was so agitated and surprised that I verily 
 believe I could not have hit a barn door. But 
 Peter fired two shots and down came three mal- 
 lard green heads, two with one barrel. 
 
 Garry forgot his lessons in patience and rushed 
 to retrieve the birds without orders, wlien a rough 
 " down " from Peter brought him to a charge 
 where he waited for the order, then he tore away 
 for the game like mad. 
 
 "Why didn't you let Garry fetch 'em in the 
 first place, Peter ? " I inquired reproachfully. 
 
 " Spoil dog ; learn to mind ; keep still, like 
 boys ! " 
 
 By this he conveyed to us the idea that we must 
 learn patience and coolness, and not give way to 
 excitement and disobey instructions. 
 
HUNTING IN MINNESOTA. 115 
 
 During the day we shot some canvas-back 
 ducks, over which Peter expressed liis enthusiasm 
 by saying, " King birds." We at first could see 
 no difference between them and the red-heads we 
 had bagged, but Peter drew our attention to the 
 difference in the length and shape of the head. 
 In this they greatly differ ; there is a difference in 
 the bill also, the canvas-back duck having a black 
 bill and the mallard a light blue. 
 
 We were returning home loaded with game, 
 when we were brought to a standstill by a motion 
 from Peter for silence ! " Hush ! " says Peter in 
 a whisper. He takes one step forward, when a 
 cock grouse flushes before him. He throws his 
 gun to his face and a long stream of feathers drift 
 downward, showing his perfect aim, and the bird 
 drops on the grass. A step more, and another 
 shot brings down another fat grouse. 
 
 " Prairie chicken fat now," said Peter, bagging 
 the grouse. 
 
 It was late when we reached home, tired and 
 hungry, but not too tired to help Peter in dressing 
 and broiling some of our game for supper. 
 
 More delicious food I've never eaten ; and my 
 mouth waters as I write, at the remembrance of 
 the delicious flavor of the canvas-backs. They 
 fully justified Peter's enthusiastic declaration, 
 " Red-head good, canvas-back best all." The can- 
 vas-back is indeed, for table use, the royal bird, as 
 Peter said. 
 
116 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 That same evening, as we were returning to the 
 house after milking the cow, we heard the honk- 
 ing of wild geese. I never saw Peter, usually so 
 stolid, excited before. Laying his hand first on a 
 stick and then on a stone, he exclaimed, " Give me 
 something fire ! had a gun, shoot ! good mind to, 
 anyway ! " 
 
 We laughed to see Peter as excited as we had 
 been in the morning. 
 
 Peter, seeing the absurdity of his excitement, 
 said smiling, " Goose self." 
 
 The next morning Peter said, " Shoot some goose 
 to-day!" 
 
 To those who do not understand the habits of 
 geese in this region, I will say that two flights 
 a day are made by these birds from the lake, in 
 search of food ; one at daybreak, and the other 
 at about four o'clock in the' afternoon, their flight 
 lasting about an hour. The geese are accom- 
 panied by the snow goose and the white-fronted 
 goose, better known in this region as brant, 
 although they do not resemble the brant of the 
 seacoast. 
 
 Peter began by looking over the field where 
 our meagre wheat grew, and where he found 
 traces of their having been feeding. After making 
 a careful examination, he dug two pits, utilizing 
 the earth dug from them for a slight embankment 
 around their edges ; wheat straws were then care- 
 fully stuck into the ground, until its appearance 
 
HUNTING IN MINNESOTA. 117 
 
 accorded with the natural surroundings. Here 
 Peter set up what we thought were very poor 
 decoys or imitation geese. 
 
 "Sure they must be geese," said Matt deri- 
 sively, " to want to make acquaintance with them 
 things ! " 
 
 Peter said not a word, but went on with his 
 preparations. 
 
 Before four o'clock the next morning Matt and 
 I took our positions in one pit, and Peter placed 
 himself in the other. We waited until our 
 patience was completely exhausted. 
 
 "A watched pot never biles," said Matt, usually 
 very patient, "and by George, I'm not goin' to 
 watch this pot longer." 
 
 " Hush ! birds coming ! " was Peter's warning, as 
 if with his trained sense of hearing, he could hear 
 the birds in the air. 
 
 " Wait till I say fire ! " said Peter, in a whis- 
 per. "Goose look big, look out not fire too 
 soon ! " 
 
 Here let me explain in parenthesis, that in the 
 air, with no intervening object to correct the eye, 
 birds above a hunter look very large, so that the 
 inexperienced are often deceived as to the distance 
 from him, and are tempted to fire too soon. 
 
 In a moment more a flock of fifteen of these 
 birds circled as if viewing the ground, and set- 
 tled in the wheat around us. Bang., hang! hang, 
 hang! hang., hang! went our shot-guns, and as a 
 
118 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 result we picked up one brant and six fat 
 geese, which we carried home to Aunt Hitty in 
 triumph. 
 
 The weather was getting so cool that we had 
 but little difficulty in keeping our game for sev- 
 eral weeks. 
 
 During this season of sport Peter taught us 
 the correct use of a rifle, as well as the shot-gun ; 
 always to carry a gun pointing upward, and never 
 to hold it in any other way except to bring it 
 into position to fire. Some sportsmen carry a 
 gun with muzzle pointing downward ; but Peter 
 explained that many accidents occurred to both 
 hunters and dogs, by the fingers touching the trig- 
 ger as the barrel is lifted into position, which, if 
 brought from the shoulder to the line of aim, could 
 not happen. He also taught us before jumping 
 over any obstacle to bring the hammer to a half- 
 cock, and also, in going through a thicket or 
 sage brush, to cover the hammer of our guns 
 with one hand ; and to withdraw the charge or 
 fire it when we had decided to shoot no more for 
 the day, and to clean our guns or rifles with tow 
 or flannel, and to close up the muzzle with a plug 
 made of cork or flannel, before placing the gun in 
 the rack." 
 
 Once during the first week of hunting we tried 
 shooting geese and ducks on the lake, covering 
 our boat with green boughs, but were less suc- 
 cessful than in the other manner. * 
 
HUNTING IN MINNESOTA. US 
 
 Under Peter's tuition we were fast becoming 
 expert hunters. 
 
 Matt had, however, been making some poor 
 shots, when Peter said, " Maybe gun don't fit you." 
 
 We had heard of fitting clothes to a boy, but 
 never had heard of fitting a gun to one. " Show 
 how ! " said Peter, seeing our incredulity. 
 
 Standing in front of the sitting-room mirror, 
 he instructed Matt to bring his gun into posi- 
 tion to aim at his right eye, and in substance said, 
 " If you see your right eye just above the rib of 
 the gun, you may know that the gun fits you." 
 Peter then pointed out the marks of the muskets 
 to indicate how much powder they should carry to 
 be most effective, for although he could not at 
 that time read or write he knew all these marks 
 on the English and Belgian guns at a glance. 
 
 About a week after my father's departure we 
 sat talking about hunting, with Aunt Hitty sniff- 
 ing her contempt, not at our game, but at our 
 talk, when the young officer I have before men- 
 tioned rode up, and dismounting, handed us two 
 letters, one from my father and the other from 
 Bess. 
 
 Both of them were brief and in different ways 
 conveyed the same intelligence. Aleck had been 
 missing for two days, and father wanted Peter to 
 come to St. Paul to take care of the teams. Father 
 thought that Aleck had been kidnapped and carried 
 down the river. Bess's intelligence was of the 
 
120 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 same nature, in addition to which we were delighted 
 to learn that she proposed to come home for the 
 winter . 
 
 Lieutenant Preston was invited to remain for 
 the night, and accepted our hospitality. Peter 
 said but little, but turned pale and rigid with 
 anger at the thought that Aleck had been stolen, 
 and said, " Bad white man, worse bad Indian. " 
 Lieutenant Preston made no inquiries or remarks 
 regarding Aleck, as if he had no sympathy with 
 our loss. 
 
 Father had heard througli my uncle that some 
 inquiries had been made about him and his rela- 
 tion to Aleck ; but he had thought nothing of it, 
 and was naturally indignant at the thought that 
 Aleck had been kidnapped, although he had no 
 real proof that such was the case. 
 
 Peter started at once for St. Paul, and in a 
 few days returned with the teams, but father 
 came earlier by boat bringing Bess with him. 
 
 He said that he liad been so Avrought up by 
 losing Aleck, that on Sunday, being asked to 
 occupy a city pulpit, he preached in substance the 
 same sermon that made such a commotion at 
 Centreboro, on the subject of the duty of the 
 free States regarding slavery. 
 
 " Just like you, for all your life, William ! " ex- 
 claimed Aunt Hitty. "You are just like the 
 man in Mother Goose." 
 
 "What one do you mean?" inquired my father, 
 
HUNTING IN MINNESOTA. 121 
 
 indignant at being classified with any hero of 
 Mother Goose. 
 
 " When he saw his eyes were out, 
 With all his might and main 
 He jumped into another bush 
 To scratch them in again," 
 
 quoted Aunt Hitty. 
 
 Even my father smiled at the aptness of the 
 quotation ; and Aunt Hitty, seeing she had the 
 best of the talk, heaped my father's plate with 
 game. 
 
 We afterwards learned that some ultra pro- 
 slavery men had been heard to say, that it wouldn't 
 be safe for him again to preach such sermons in 
 St. Paul. 
 
 Matt, like the rest of us, w\as quite excited 
 over Aleck's supposed fate, and was heard to 
 say wrathfully, " The murtherin' villains that 
 would stale Aleck would stale the dog." 
 
 " It's worse than stealing the newspapers in 
 New York, Matt ! " I said quizzingly. 
 
 " Yis," said Matt ; " an' I wanted that naygur 
 to help build me a house. An' sure, I shouldn't 
 wonder if the same raskills had stole me father. " 
 
 We explained to Matt that they did not kid- 
 nap or enslave Irishmen in this country. 
 
 " An' why not ? " said Matt, piqued not a little ; 
 " sure ain't an Irishman as good as a naygur ? " 
 
122 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 WINTER SCENES ON THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 The autumn months were the pleasantest 
 of the year. The days were warm with just 
 enough of coolness in the morning and evening 
 to make them delightful. But few frosts oc- 
 curred, and it seemed characteristic of the climate 
 that it seldom rained except at night. The 
 blue haze of Indian summer, common to other 
 latitudes, was here intensified, and there was a 
 lazy languor in the air, as if nature, after the 
 haste of summer, was loath to leave its languid 
 repose to enter upon the long sleep of winter. 
 
 Meanwhile we were getting very well prepared 
 for cold weather. 
 
 In October an Indian with his squaw and two 
 daughters about fourteen or fifteen years of age 
 visited us. The woman and the two girls were 
 loaded very heavily with packs of wild rice and 
 cranberries, carried by portage straps passed around 
 the forehead, while the man carried a pack of furs. 
 These they expected to sell at the settlement, 
 which was the centre of most of the Indian trade. 
 
 As we had gathered cranberries enough for our 
 
WINTER SCENES ON THE PRAIRIE. 123 
 
 own use around the margin of the lake, we did 
 not require any, but father bought their stock of 
 wild rice. It did not resemble ordinary rice, being 
 darker in color, and father told us that the French 
 call it wild oats (folles avoines). Some of it 
 was cooked for our dinner. With the exception 
 of a smoky taste, which at first we did not like, 
 and which is caused by the Indian method of 
 drying it on a scaffold over a fire, it seemed 
 much like the rice to which we were accustomed. 
 
 The squaw was ugly and wrinkled, but the 
 daughters were straight, lithe, and graceful. There 
 was a willow-like flexibleness in their movements 
 which I have never seen except in young Indian 
 girls. 
 
 The man was very unlike any of his race that 
 I had ever met in fiction, being very dirty and 
 quite stout. His face was furrowed with lines 
 of care, and was tinged with a peculiar air of 
 sadness and sternness. 
 
 After the bargaining Avas over they were in- 
 vited to dinner. We had for dinner, as I 
 can distinctly remember, roast pork ; and after they 
 had eaten, as Matt said, " like hogs, " they still 
 continued, though languidly, as if it were a task. 
 
 My aunt said to Peter, who happened in, " Them 
 Injuns don't seem to be very hungry, but they 
 keep eatin'." Peter explained that they consid- 
 ered it etiquette to eat everything set before them. 
 Aunt Hitty laughing said, '^Tell them, Peter, 
 
124 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 before they eat us out of house and home, that 
 they needn't eat any more if they do not want 
 to." 
 
 My sister' Bess tried to make friends with the 
 Indian girls : they were very bashful, but seemed 
 much pleased with some trinkets she gave them. 
 
 The party was just getting ready to go, when 
 Peter said to my father, " Buy furs for cold 
 weather ? " So father entered into further negoti- 
 ations with them, and bought from their pack 
 all the furs that Peter selected, consisting of otter, 
 wolf, deer, and bear skins. These furs were 
 beautifully prepared, and were soft as only Indians 
 can make them. 
 
 Before the winter really set in Peter began to 
 work at making fur leggings and overcoats. In 
 this he was assisted by our women, who worked 
 under his direction, until we were all well equipped. 
 One advantage this climate possessed over that of 
 New England — we could dress with some degree 
 of certainty as to what the weather would be. 
 
 After a heavy fall of snow in November the 
 weather cleared, leaving the air intensely cold, 
 but dead still and with the sun shining from a 
 cloudless sky. We found the cold very deceptive, 
 as in going from our heated rooms into the air 
 the body carried with it an atmosphere of heat 
 which made the cold hardly perceptible for 
 a while. I had an early illustration of this which 
 nearly cost me my ears and nose. Starting out 
 
WINTER SCENES ON THE PRAIRIE. 125 
 
 one morning, I had not gone far when I met 
 Peter, who proceeded to tumble me roughly in 
 the snow and to rub my face with it. I struggled 
 to get away, thinking it cold treatment from a 
 friend ; but Peter exclaimed, " Hold still. Man 
 know better'n little boy. Nose froze, ears froze." 
 I discovered that these very needful appendages 
 were both frozen, and that Peter had applied 
 the best possible remedy by rubbing them with 
 snow. Had I gone to the house without meeting 
 Peter, and entered a warm room, I should very likely 
 have lost my nose and ears. As it was I suffered 
 but little inconvenience by being nipped by the 
 frost. 
 
 With the coming of winter the Mississippi was 
 closed by ice, and all communication except by the 
 road was cut off. The only way of obtaining our 
 mail was to drive to the settlement across the 
 prairie, where all semblance of a road was obliter- 
 ated by the snow. To be thvis isolated was a 
 great hardship for my father, who had always been 
 accustomed to have his newspaper regularly, and 
 to be in constant communication with his friends ; 
 and now that the season of enforced leisure had 
 come, he greatly missed his usual comforts. Mrs. 
 Ryan was also anxious to hear from her husband. 
 
 " Yer father wants to see what Congress is 
 a-doin', and what that windy Phillips and that 
 Garrison, that our dog is named for, is a drivin' at. 
 I've no doubt he's a disgracin' the dog, though ! " 
 
126 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 said Aunt Hitty, who was, by the way, an ardent 
 Democrat in her sympathies. 
 
 " Sure," said Matt, " me mither cries because 
 we've lost me father." My father coming in and 
 overhearing- this remark said, "I think Peter had 
 better take the grays (so he called our span) and 
 drive over to the settlement to-morrow. Your 
 aunt says we are nearly out of coffee and sugar, 
 and we cannot get along very well without them, 
 and besides she wants some snuff." 
 
 " Why don't you say you want your newspapers, 
 and can't do without them any longer, William ? " 
 said my aunt, with unusual testiness. 
 
 " An' sure," said Mrs. Ryan, " ain't it too cowld 
 for the byes ? the thermometer is below geroT 
 
 " It won't hurt the boys," said father, " and it 
 is not best for them to stay in the house too much ; 
 they must get accustomed to roughing it." 
 
 So to our great joy we were allowed to 
 accompany Peter to the settlement in the morn- 
 ing. " Bright and early," as my aunt called it, 
 we set out. 
 
 My sister Bess said we looked like huge cater- 
 pillars in our fur overcoats, from which we could 
 hardly see out. 
 
 What a morning it was! How the snow lay 
 like an incrustation of silver over the undulat- 
 ing prairie ! There was no life moving over its 
 broad expanse. No sound was heard except our 
 own voices, and the silence lent effect to the vast 
 and simple landscape, so like a frozen ocean. 
 
WINTER SCENES ON THE PRAIRIE. 127 
 
 The cold was intense, and the air was motionless 
 and deathlike. As we approached the settlement 
 I noticed that the smoke from the chimneys fell 
 lazily to the ground Peter said, " Storm, perhaps 
 one day, perhajis two days, hurry hack." 
 
 At the store Peter was greeted by several of his 
 old hunting and voyagmg friends, who occupied so 
 much of his time that I got impatient and I 
 couldn't help thinking that we were staying too 
 late. Still 1 was not very anxious, although 
 Peter's breath did smell suspicious ; for I had 
 great confidence in his good sense. I have since 
 learned from experience that those who are ordi- 
 narily good men seem to lose their reliable quali- 
 ties when they come in contact with spirituous 
 liquors. 
 
 A great cause of joy to Matt was that he had got 
 a letter. There were also two letters for my father ; 
 one of them was given me by the post-master, who 
 said he thought it was for my father, although he 
 could hardly make out the address. It was super- 
 scribed in a scraAvling hand on a dirty envelope 
 and appeared to be addressed to " Massa Clifton." 
 
 It was quite late when we started on our return. 
 Peter was unusually talkative and shook hands again 
 and again with his friends. I heard the store- 
 keeper say to Peter, " Better hurry uj), old man ! " 
 
 " Maybe, Mr. Yankee, you know better'n Peter," 
 said Peter angrily. 
 
 At last we started, but had gone only a little 
 
128 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 way before a few flakes of snow drifted down 
 through the air. Peter drove with his head and 
 chin far down in his furs as if he were sleepy. 
 We must have been midway on our journey when 
 the wind began to rise. Matt put his hand into 
 the pocket of Peter's shaggy overcoat and threw 
 a flask out into the snow. Peter, seeing the move- 
 ment,' stopped the team, and was going to get out 
 for the flask, saying, " What throw Peter's bottle 
 away for? " 
 
 " Peter is drunk," said Matt resolutely, " and it's 
 going to storm and blow ! " 
 
 As if this had awakened him to our danger, 
 Peter looked at us both with a dazed air, and said 
 slowly, looking at the sky and sniffing in a big 
 breath of air through his broad nostrils, "Air 
 feels storm, Peter bad man ! " and then, after look- 
 ing around the prairie as if to get his bearings, 
 and lashing the horses to urge them forward, he 
 said excitedly, " No time spare ! " The wind 
 continued to rise, which was something we had 
 never before seen in our Minnesota experience. 
 
 Peter was visibly sobered, his face lengthened, 
 and his faculties seemed to awake to renewed 
 keenness. 
 
 An hour passed and the storm was in full force 
 upon us. The cutting wind blew directly in our 
 faces as Peter urged the horses on. The air was 
 full of particles of snow which seemed to pierce 
 the flesh like needles wherever it touched our 
 faces. 
 
WINTER SCENES ON THE PRAIRIE. 129 
 
 We were in tlie midst of what in modern lan- 
 guage is called a blizzard. 
 
 Peter seemed now to strain every sense to ward 
 off dansrer. He sheltered us and himself behind 
 the barrels, and made us cover oui-selves in the 
 robes and blankets. He occasionally touched 
 my face with his own. I began to feel drowsy. 
 Peter must have perceived this for he exclaimed, 
 " We all freeze ! Get out, hold on sled, run ! 
 you freeze ! " We obeyed him, and with be- 
 numbed faculties, holding on to the sled, we 
 walked or ran behind or along side. 
 
 In this way we went on for some time, the horses 
 stumbling as they went, for they were giving out. 
 Still we went on, and on, until one of the horses 
 fell. Peter with prodigious strength raised him, 
 but the beast could not or would not go farther. 
 Peter unhitched and turned them loose. 
 
 He then took his portage-strap, to which he had 
 attached an immense basket, and placing in this 
 the robes and blankets, he started to walk, with 
 Matt and me following behind him. We now 
 began the terrible struggle on foot against the 
 wind. " Keep close me," said Peter command- 
 ingly. Peter's attitude showed that he had 
 braced every nerve and muscle to do battle against 
 death. The air now seemed a solid mass of 
 needles driven against the exposed portions of 
 our flesh. The cold cut through us as if the 
 naked body was exposed to the terrible blast. 
 It was impossible to see a foot before us. 
 
130 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 " Keep close to me ! " occasionally shouted 
 Peter. Through this wild, fierce storm we stag- 
 gered, hardly able to breathe except by turning our 
 backs to the wind. 
 
 A languor stole over my senses and I fell. Peter 
 raised me to my feet and di-ove me before him with 
 blows from his hands saying, " Fall down, never 
 get up ! freeze ! " I remember hearing these words, 
 although they sounded far away, and I was unac- 
 countably indifferent to them. Peter shook me, 
 struck me with the flat of his hand, and I went on. 
 I next remembered seeing him put Matt into his 
 portage basket, cover him with furs, and sling it 
 over his back, then with his hands under my arms 
 partly carrying me, we went on. I fell again, when 
 Peter made one more appeal. " Fall down, die ! " 
 he shouted. Next I found him taking' off his bisf 
 fur coat and wrapping it around me. This seemed 
 to warm me a little, and I revived when he poujed 
 something hot down my throat, which I afterwards 
 found out was " hot drops." 
 
 Peter stood irresolute for a while, exclaiming, 
 " Peter lost way ; " then inhaling or sniffing for a 
 moment he said, " Smell house," and we went on 
 until I could go no farther. Then Peter took me 
 up in liis arms, and then I heard Garrison bark 
 and knew no more. 
 
 When I came to my senses I was in my bed and 
 was being vigorously rubbed with snow. Peter, 
 — brave, honest Peter, with s-omething like a tear 
 in his eye, said, "■ He all right now ! " 
 
WINTER SCENES ON THE PRAIRIE. 131 
 
 My father afterwards told me that Garry had 
 been sleeping, when he suddenly roused himself 
 and began to bark and snuff at the door ; they let 
 him go and he had guided Peter to the house, 
 which was only half a mile distant from the place 
 where I had given out. The question naturally is 
 asked, how did the dog know our danger? I 
 sometimes think dogs are clairvoyant. 
 
 The letter, of which I have before spoken, 
 proved to be a curious one ; here is a copy of 
 it: — 
 
 Dar Mars Clifton, — Was stole and brung here. I 
 will tote back sometime. Aleck. 
 
 The letter had no date, and the postmark was 
 obscure. 
 
 Mrs. Ryan's letter informed her that her hus- 
 band was near Chicago, and wanted her to write 
 to him. The letter was dated a month previous 
 to her getting it. My father wrote to him, and 
 it was agreed that when the spring opened he 
 should join his wife and boy in their prairie 
 home. 
 
 It is not my purpose to give further details of 
 our home life. During the next summer our farm 
 prospered and we raised over a thousand bushels 
 of wheat. 
 
 Matt built a sod house, ploughed his land and 
 raised fair crops, and anxiously looked for the 
 coming of his father ; but he, for some unaccount- 
 
132 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 able reason, was not heard from. The season was 
 a very profitable one for us, a fact which Aunt 
 Hitty accounted for by saying, " It's because there 
 are no beggars here for your father to give his 
 money away to." 
 
FROM PEACE TO WAR. 133 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 FEOM PEACE TO WAK. 
 
 Five years have swiftly passed since the events 
 of the last chapter, and it is now April, 1861. 
 
 A rapid but quiet change has taken place in the 
 surroundings of the prairie farm. A little village 
 called Lakeview, the centre of a farming commu- 
 nity, has sprung up in our vicinity. The sod house 
 has given place to a comfortable two-story dwell- 
 ing, whose broad veranda looks out upon lake and 
 prairie. 
 
 The fertile land is taken up for farms in every 
 direction. On every side, in the summer months, 
 are waving fields of grain, that undulate in the sun- 
 shine like the waves of the sea. 
 
 Matt's farm adjoins ours and he has participated 
 in the general prosperity. He is now eighteen 
 years old, and is considered the best judge of 
 stock, especially horses and mules, in the neigh- 
 borhood. 
 
 There is a mystery about his father that is a 
 cause of great sorrow to him. He had written 
 twice of his intention of joining his family in 
 Minnesota, and yet had not made his appearance 
 nor been heard from for months. 
 
134 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Of Aleck we had heard nothing, except the un- 
 intelligible note, a copy of which was given in the 
 preceding chapter. 
 
 My father had been one of the republican elect- 
 ors of the State, in the election of Abraham Lin- 
 coln, and is known for miles around as a man of 
 whom his neighbors say, "He would rather do a 
 man a kindness than eat his own dinner ! " 
 
 Aunt Hitty says, in answer to the question of a 
 neighbor, " Yes ; William Clifton is forehanded, — 
 rich, in spite of himself ; for goodness knows, the 
 man is just as ready to give away his head as he 
 ever was ! ' 
 
 " An' sure, mum," says Mrs. Ryan, who has hap- 
 pened in just before dinner, to borrow some milk- 
 pans, " Mr. Clifton has been a blessing to many a 
 poor person, and why shouldn't he get a blessing 
 widitall?" 
 
 "Well, yes," said my aunt; "I do believe that 
 the good God does sometimes take care of people 
 who won't take care of themselves ! When that 
 man had a school in the old house (so we desig- 
 nated the sod house), he took everybody that came 
 along, and didn't charge a cent to Tom, Dick, or 
 Harry." 
 
 " Nor Matt either," said Matt, coming into the 
 sitting-room, and bowing with mock humility to 
 my aunt. " I remember we all thought that when 
 he got the school money allowed by the county, he 
 should have paid himself for his time and money ; 
 
FROM PEACE TO WAR. 135 
 
 but instead he put another hundred dollars with it, 
 and built the new schoolhouse, and you said, ' Now 
 that man is crazy.' But people for that very 
 reason began to settle here, because their children 
 could go to church and school." 
 
 " Now, Matthew," said my aunt (who always 
 called him Matthew when she wished to be very 
 emphatic, or was displeased), " of course everything 
 Mr. Clifton does is right in your eyes, because he 
 lets you do as you please. But if I\i a been 
 William Clifton, I'd a converted yer into a Prot- 
 estant or skinned yer alive ; and instid of that, he 
 lets that Catholic priest come to confess yer — folks, 
 too, who are too good to hear Mr. Clifton preach. 
 An' that man can't preach without his shirt out- 
 side his trousers, either ! " she continued, taking a 
 big pinch of snuff, and turning on Matt as if for 
 a challenge. 
 
 " Yes, it's true, God bless him ! Mr. Clifton is 
 too big hearted. He has made me what I am, 
 and," with just the suspicion of a tear in Matt's 
 eloquent Irish eyes, " I know there's no better 
 man living than he ! " 
 
 "There's Pete," continued Matt, but my aunt 
 interrupted him, with " Well, what's the matter 
 with Peter ? Mr. Clifton learned him to read and 
 write, and I don't think the man has drank a drop 
 since he came near freezing yer to death on the 
 prairie ! " Then turning again to Matt, she asked, 
 "What have you got against Peter? He's a good 
 
136 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 creature as ever lived ! though they do say he 
 leaves off right in harvest time to go hunting ! — • 
 sort o' shiftless like ! Come, Matt," continued my 
 aunt, mildly, "sit down and have some dinner 
 with us. It seems like old times to have yer 'round ; 
 you always was a good boy ! You've paid for yer 
 bringin' up, over and over agin." 
 
 Matt laughed and accepted the invitation ; but 
 Peter, who had been sitting unperceived by the 
 door, here arose, his enormous frame filling the 
 whole door-way, and raising his hand with a ges- 
 ture peculiar to himself, as if demanding attention, 
 said, "Big heart, brother Clifton; look God for 
 pay ; he do Peter good, and not want pay ! " Then 
 standing a moment silently and sternly, as if for 
 emphasis, with his stately gliding step, the half- 
 breed moved away. 
 
 "There," said Aunt Hitty, "you've hurt Peter's 
 feelin's ; and you'd better stop talkin' and go to 
 eatin'." It was an old habit of Aunt Hitty 's, at- 
 tributing to others what she had done herself. 
 
 In a few minutes Peter came in, and took his 
 seat at the table. He bowed his head for a mo- 
 ment, then saying, " Thank God," began eating. 
 
 " When," inquired Aunt Hitty, " do you expect 
 your father from St. Paul ? " 
 
 " Some time to-day, on the stage from the land- 
 ing ; it is almost due now," I replied, consulting 
 my watch. 
 
 " He's all politics now," said Aunt Hitty. 
 
r-T.-i 
 
 FROM PEACE TO WAR. 137 
 
 " Talks about the seceshers ; as if they'd do any- 
 thing but threaten ! He'd better attend to the 
 seedin'." 
 
 My sister Bess, after receiving attentions from 
 both Lieutenants Arclier and Preston, was at that 
 time engaged to Preston, who was quartered at 
 Fort Snelling. He was a dashing young officer, 
 whom we all liked and admired, although his politi- 
 cal opinions were not in accordance with ours. It 
 was well known that Lieutenant Preston was a 
 Southern man by birth, and the only disagreement 
 which had occurred between Bess and her lover 
 was on politics and the slavery question. My 
 father had also had several talks with Preston ; 
 and although their conversation was courteous, it 
 was plainly to be seen that they could not view 
 the subject of slavery from the same standpoint. 
 
 We were hardly through dinner when my father 
 walked into the dining-room, having just arrived 
 by the mail stage. I knew by his face that some- 
 thing unusual had occurred. 
 
 '' What's the matter, papa ? " inquired Bess. 
 
 There was a gray, ashen look on his face as if 
 his mind was agitated by some great anxiety. 
 
 " For the land sakes, William, what is it ? Is 
 your brother John dead ? " asked Aunt Hitty with 
 something like hysterics in her tone. 
 
 My father, who was not without a sense of 
 humor, smiled and said, " I ought not to alarm 
 you with my worried looks, but the South Carolina 
 
138 rOM CLIFTON. 
 
 rebels have fired on Fort Sumter. Here, my 
 child," said he to Bess, "is a letter from Mr. 
 Preston. I am afraid he is determined to side 
 with the South and to resign his commission. He 
 says he cannot raise his hand against his native 
 State, and if he fights he must fight with his own 
 people." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Aunt Hitty contemptuously, " I 
 thought some one was dead." 
 
 My sister read her letter with pallid face, and in 
 another moment sank fainting to the floor. Upon 
 recovering, she said, " Lieutenant Preston did not 
 tell you all. He leaves for the South, and will 
 enter the service of his native State at once." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Aunt Hitty, " I thought for sure 
 he'd killed some one ! " 
 
 " It means more than death to many," said my 
 father, solemnly and reproachfully ; " it means civil 
 war, which may come near our homes, for we shall 
 have to wrestle here in the West for the pos- 
 session of the Mississippi. There's great excite- 
 ment in St. Paul and all over the land. They've 
 begun recruiting in all the towns around already." 
 
 It was the 19th of April, which shows that in 
 our new State news travelled slowly, for it was 
 only the year previous (1860) that St. Paul 
 had railroad and telegraphic communication with 
 Chicago and other points East. 
 
 That evening my father read aloud the papers 
 which gave full details of the attack on Fort 
 
FROM PEACE TO WAR. 139 
 
 Sumter and its surrender on the 15tli of April, 
 1861. 
 
 " I fear," said my father, " that it is but the 
 beginning of a long civil war." 
 
 We sat talking it over, when Peter, who had 
 taken no part in the conversation, said as he got 
 up to go to his own house, " War comes, I go and 
 fight for this country. Peter knows how fight ! " 
 
 "It has got to come to that," said my father 
 thoughtfully. " All good men must now stand 
 up for their country. I hope the freedom of the 
 slaves may be an outcome of this ; for war has 
 come and maybe it will be at our very doors. 
 Civil wars are more dreadful in their intensified 
 passions than any other. We must give liberally 
 meanwhile, of all that we have, to sustain the 
 Union of States." 
 
 " Yes, of course," said Aunt Hitty, " that's the 
 first thing you will think of! You are givin' 
 your house-lots away now, when you might sell 
 'em. If you could find a good excuse you'd give 
 your horses away, and go afoot, and let the seedin' 
 go to the dogs." 
 
 My father mused a moment in his most abstracted 
 manner, and finally replied, " Certainly, Mehit- 
 able, if the government needs them. I never 
 thought of it before. I'll write about it to the 
 Governor and see if they would be acceptable." 
 
 The news of the war continued to be a staple of 
 conversation. In our settlement there were many 
 
140 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 views expressed. Many thought the war would 
 amount to but little. Sam Ryder (my aunt's 
 nephew), who was clerk in the store, said, " Well, 
 now I tell you, I've been down there in Charleston, 
 and know 'em: they don't care about fightin', 
 they're too lazy." 
 
 "Now, see here, Sam," said my big brother-in- 
 law, Jonathan Atkins, who had taken up a farm 
 near us, " I've run a vessel between Savannah and 
 Boston for years, and I know these Southern fellows 
 right well. They're as proud as Lucifer, and you 
 might as well try to back down your mainmast as 
 one of them chaps when they've got all sails set. 
 Yes, they are lazy, but there's no man so stubborn 
 as a proud man. I tell you they'd fight after they 
 got into it ; and they'll get into it, because they'll 
 egg each other on ! It's a point of honor, as they 
 say, never to back down." 
 
 " Wall, now, stranger," said a Missourian, the 
 poorest man in the settlement, " you Yanks have 
 just kicked u]d this row because you won't let our 
 niggers alone. You've been meddlin' with 'em 
 too much." 
 
 "Will you please tell us," said Matt, "how 
 many niggers you own ?" 
 
 The lank Missourian wrathfully reached for 
 Matt, who laughingly fled out of the back door. 
 
 It was the last of July when the news of the 
 stunning defeat of the Union army at Bull Run, 
 which had vibrated through the North like an 
 
FROM PEACE TO WAR. 141 
 
 electric shock, finally reached our little settlement. 
 Up to that time it had not been seriously believed 
 that there would be war. My father's opinion 
 was an exception to this otherwise general feeling. 
 The sad forebodings which from the first had 
 alarmed him, had now been realized in this terri- 
 ble defeat of the national troops. 
 
 "Thank God!" said my father, "President 
 Lincoln has shown no weakness ; with treason 
 surrounding him on every side, he has been firm 
 but tolerant, wise, and charitable." 
 
 Looking back to-day over the past, we can 
 see that while the terrible defeat at Bull Run 
 demonstrated the inexperience and want of disci- 
 pline among our citizen soldiers, it also proved 
 that our Northern men possessed that manly tem- 
 perament which gathered strength from adversity, 
 and that indomitable constancy which, after 
 bloody defeats and vexatious delays, brought us 
 final victory and the restoration of the Union, and 
 gave freedom to all under one flag. The defeat 
 at Bull Run taught our people that it was not 
 sufficient to have placed seventy-five thousand 
 men in the field, but that it was necessary to aid 
 patiently in converting them by discipline into 
 soldiers. 
 
 During the week, while the news of Bull Run 
 was the topic of conversation, we had a visit from 
 Captain Archer, formerly stationed at the military 
 post above us. He told us that he had applied 
 
142 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 for leave of absence to accept a commission as 
 colonel in an Iljinois regiment. 
 
 I then asked my father for the first time to 
 allow me to enlist in that regiment. 
 
 Aunt Mehitable was very wrathful. "Now," 
 said she, "you see the result of your teachin's, 
 William ! There's that harum scarum boy wants 
 to go to war, and he'll get killed if he goes, 
 quicker than scat, he's so reckless." 
 
 My father looked pained, but said, " We must 
 sacrifice much for our country, although I don't 
 feel very willing, I confess. I find myself," he said, 
 with the simplicity so marked in his character, 
 " not so willing to give of my own flesh and blood 
 as to counsel others to give of theirs. I will let 
 you know to-morrow, my son." 
 
 There was something inexpressibly tender in my 
 aunt's manner as she saw in my father's face the 
 struggle between desire and duty. 
 
 She went to him as if to show her sympathy, 
 and in an undertone said, " If you give all of 
 your horses and some of your money to help the 
 government, William, I guess it will be all the 
 dear Lord requires of you at first ; " and then, as if 
 ashamed of having shown her feelings, she bus- 
 tled about her household work, addressing a sharp 
 word of reproof whenever she had a chance. 
 " Tom, you didn't half milk the cows to-night. 
 You are gettin' too careless for anything ! Peter, 
 if you don't bring in more wood I can't cook your 
 
FROM PEACE TO WAR. 143 
 
 victuals. You seem to expect me to do every 
 thing." We all understood these explosive re- 
 marks, emphasized by hurried pinches of snuff. 
 
 " Perhaps, Mr. Clifton," said Captain Archer, " it 
 will be a short war, and in that case Tom would 
 very much regret not to have in some way par- 
 ticipated in it. You'd better let him go down to 
 the Fort with me and study the tactics, so that 
 he may be qualified for something better than the 
 position of a private. The great want in this war 
 will be men who understand military affairs. It 
 is a trade : the A B C of the trade is the manual 
 of arms ; the simple sentences, company drill ; the 
 plain reading, company evolutions ; the more in- 
 tricate education is knowledge of regimental drill. 
 The ability to give orders, and to have them ex- 
 ecuted properly under fire, without confusion, is 
 the higher art of a military commander." 
 
 "These fellers," said Sam Ryder, referring to the 
 Southerners, " will know they are wrong ; know 
 they're fightin' aginst the flag of their fathers, 
 and they won't have the conscience to go on 
 fightin.' Their consciences '11 trouble 'em so they 
 won't have no heart in the fight." 
 
 Peter, who had been listening, as was his cus- 
 tom, without remark, turned his grave and steady 
 look upon my cousin, and said, " Bad men fight 
 best ; good men too soft for hate. Bears fight 
 better than deers." 
 
144 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 " Maybe so," said Sam Ryder, "• but when I feel 
 that I'm right, it takes a 'nation lot to scare 
 me." 
 
 Peter made no reply ; but Matt, in imitation of 
 him, slyly said, " Sam Ryder bad man, fight good, 
 'cause get mad sure : stay mad." 
 
 We all laughed but Peter, who walked gravely 
 up to my father, and, placing his hand lightly 
 on his shoulder, said," Big heart brother ; Peter 
 go to war, Tom stay home," and with his stately 
 gliding step went out without waiting for a 
 reply. 
 
 The next morning at breakfast my father said, 
 " You can go with Captain Archer and learn the 
 ways of soldiers. Perhaps I can find it in my heart 
 to do my duty finally. I am ashamed to say 
 that when Peter offered to go in your place I felt 
 rejoiced and wished to accept. But what are you 
 or I better in the sight of God than he? It is 
 easier to give your brother's children, or your neigh- 
 bor's goods, than your own, but it is not better ! 
 I have preached all my life, now I will practise what 
 I have preached, or at least try to." 
 
 The tarry of Captain Archer at our home was 
 short; and Avhen he returned to Fort Snelling I 
 accompanied him, and there remained while he 
 awaited the expected orders which would assign 
 him to duty in the volunteers. 
 
 Aunt Hitty at my leaving burst into a tirade 
 
FROM PEACE TO WAR. 145 
 
 against the war and soldiering ; but afterwards, as 
 if ashamed of being so demonstrative, said, " The 
 land knows your father has had a hard time enough 
 to let Tom go without the rest of you pestering 
 the man about it ! Why can't you let him alone ? " 
 
146 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 LEARNING TO BE A SOLDIER. 
 
 The order so anxiously awaited assigning Cap- 
 tain Archer to duty in the volunteers did not come 
 so soon as he expected. 
 
 The action of the government in throwing obsta- 
 cles in the way of the acceptance by regular 
 officers of volunteer positions has never, to my 
 knowledge, been satisfactorily explained. 
 
 The theory of the Military Academy at West 
 Point from its foundation has been to keep alive 
 a ready j^ractical acquaintance with military sub- 
 jects, that it may be imparted, when emergencies 
 arise, to volunteer armies, since volunteer organi- 
 zations were the country's only real defence in 
 case of serious war. 
 
 Like a master mechanic who keeps on hand 
 sample machines which can be duplicated when 
 there is need of them, so the regular army may 
 be said to furnish models and master mechanics for 
 the control and instruction of volunteers. Yet the 
 opposite was the practice at the outbreak of the 
 rebellion, and regular officers were given volunteer 
 duty only upon the strong appeal of personal friends. 
 
LEARNING TO BE A SOLDIER. 147 
 
 General Scott is represented as saying that " the 
 regular army must be kept intact to fall back 
 upon if the volunteers fail." This showed such 
 an utter want of appreciation of the vital strength 
 of the country, as to be a matter of astonishment 
 to all thoughtful minds. 
 
 I now believe that if at the beginning of the 
 civil war, the regular army had been disbanded 
 as a field organization, and its commissioned and 
 non-commissioned officers and trained soldiers had 
 been encouraged to take positions among the vol- 
 unteer organizations, greater efficiency of the vol- 
 unteers and usefulness of the regulars would have 
 been attained. 
 
 I am not, however, writing a treatise on the use 
 of the regular army in times of war, but a true 
 narrative of events in which I bore a humble part. 
 
 While Captain Archer was impatiently awaiting 
 the order assigning him to active duty with the 
 Illinois volunteers, I rambled around the Fort, 
 with Garry at my heels, in pursuit (as I believed) 
 of military knowledge, but, as an old ordnance ser- 
 geant of the Fort declared, " bedeviling everything 
 I touched." 
 
 I removed the tompions from the guns to look 
 into their muzzles, to see how they were made, and 
 forgot to put them back again. 
 
 I was also in constant danger of becoming a 
 nuisance by relapsing into a habit of playing prac- 
 tical jokes, for idleness is a great promoter of mis- 
 
148 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 chief. Perhaps these antics showed, as my big 
 brother-in-law Jonathan had often said, that I 
 needed to be heavily ballasted with work. 
 
 Whether similar thoughts lurked in Captain 
 Archer's mind, I do not know ; but he soon sum- 
 moned me to his quarters and proposed that while 
 he was awaiting the action of the War Depart- 
 ment, I should either return to my home or begin a 
 course of study and instruction in infantry tactics. 
 I chose the latter course. 
 
 He furnished an instructor and loaned me 
 Hardee's tactics on infantry drill, which, he said, 
 would, beyond a doubt, be generally used in the 
 army. 
 
 I readily accepted his propositions, for I foresaw 
 that it was my best chance to get into the army 
 with my father's consent. I was the more impelled 
 to this, for Captain Archer's cold and stern manner 
 conveyed a command, and impressed me as his 
 usual cordial and pleasant manner would not have 
 done. 
 
 Captain Archer's sister, who was visiting at the 
 post, must have seen that this cut me, for she 
 comforted me by saying, " That is his way to every 
 one in the army, especially when he wishes to be 
 obeyed." 
 
 That very evening I took with me to my board- 
 ing-place outside the fort a copy of Hardee's 
 tactics, and began the study of them in what I 
 conceived to be the proper way. 
 
LEARNING TO BE A SOLDIER. 149 
 
 I found that I could more readily learn and 
 repeat the portions that had been given me for a 
 lesson than I could understand their practical im- 
 port or utility. The book seemed to me a sense- 
 less jumble of details, of no earthly use except to 
 deprive one of his senses and substitute therefore 
 a sort of automatic action. 
 
 " Can't a man fight without all this nonsensical 
 rigmarole ? " I asked Captain Archer, in a dis- 
 gusted, querulous tone. 
 
 " Yes," he gravely replied, " a man can fight 
 when he is only his own commander and tactician, 
 but when a hundred or a thousand men fight 
 together, they must be able to obey a single mind, 
 in order to act in unison. The use of these tactics 
 is to drill men so that a body of them can act as 
 effectively together as can one man separately. 
 These tactics are to a company of a hundred or 
 more men what heat is to a mass of iron — it fuses 
 them solidly together, and causes in them unity of 
 action in obeying commands. Our army is a great 
 machine, of which the private soldiers and their 
 officers all form a part ; and these parts must work 
 together, ^t the word of command, without discus- 
 sion or hesitation. This is so that the combined 
 action of an army may overthrow its enemy. The 
 best way to see the purposes of these lessons you 
 have been learning is to get some one to teach 
 them to you practically." 
 
 So it was agreed that he should procure for me 
 
150 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 a drill-master, whom I was to pay to instruct me 
 in infantry tactics. 
 
 The next morning I was introduced to my in- 
 structor. He was a stiff old regular, as straight as 
 a ramrod, and who, in the presence of his superiors, 
 was silent, unless asked a question. 
 
 " Are you willing to undertake the instruction 
 of this young man ? " inquired Captain Archer. 
 
 " Yes, if he will obey just as if he was an ordi- 
 nary recruit." 
 
 "You are to have full power in that respect. 
 You are willing to agree to this, are you not, Mr. 
 Clifton ? " I assented, and other details were soon 
 arranged. 
 
 The next morning found me in company with 
 my instructor, in a secluded spot near the fort, 
 dressed in an army blouse, and equipped with belt, 
 cap, and cartridge-box, and a Springfield musket. 
 
 " Now," said the old regular, taking my musket 
 from my hand and leaning it against the fort, 
 "take the first position of a soldier." With my 
 feet wide apart, I threw back my shoulders, pro- 
 truded my stomach, and stood with the weight of 
 my body resting on my heels. 
 
 " All wrong ! " said the regular, shaking his 
 head. "I'll repeat the first position of a soldier, 
 as it is laid down in the tactics. Heels equally 
 on the same line ; toes turning equally outward ; 
 knees straight, without stiffness ; hands hanging 
 naturally by the side, with the palms turned out- 
 
LEARNING TO BE A SOLDIER. 151 
 
 ward ; little finger of the right hand in the rear 
 of the seam of the pants, the weight of the body 
 resting lightly upon the soles of the feet; head 
 natural, chin on line of the stock, and eyes striking 
 the ground, twenty paces to the front." 
 
 At the repetition of each of these chunks of 
 military exactions, the position of my head, hands, 
 feet, chin, and stomach were corrected with a 
 severity that made me wince. 
 
 It took one hour of time, most of my patience, 
 and tried my muscles sorely, before I could suit 
 his tyrannical majesty, Private Delaney, in taking 
 this first position of a soldier, as laid down by 
 Hardee. 
 
 Then came the facings — " right face," " left face," 
 "right about face." Then marching and execut- 
 ing these. But my marching didn't suit Private 
 Delaney. " You occupy more room than two sets 
 of four should. You must depress your toes, and 
 step on the ball of your foot, and not the heel." 
 
 And then he stood me on one leg, and made me 
 swing my foot, depressing the toe when it swung 
 forward, and the heel when it came back. In this 
 manner he kept me standing, first on one leg and 
 then on the other, for half an hour ; and when I 
 failed to suit him in marching, he put me on one 
 leg, and set me to swinging my foot again. 
 
 All this time not a smile or a word of conversa- 
 tion or encouragement could be coaxed from him. 
 
 When Private Delaney was through with me, I 
 
152 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 was humiliated in spirit and sore in muscle ; and 
 the military spirit within me had burned so low 
 that there was scarcely a spark left. But I deter- 
 mined to put up with tlie " rigmarole " a few days 
 longer, and then, if I did not like it any better, to 
 leave military things thereafter to some one with 
 more humility of spirit and machine-like docility. 
 
 The afternoon lesson was a repetition of the 
 forenoon. I was marched and counter-marched, 
 faced about right and left, and made to stand on 
 one foot and swing the other, like a West Point 
 cadet. I was so constantly told to " draw my stom- 
 ach in," that I was in danger of losing my temper, 
 if not my mind. 
 
 At the exjDiration of my last two hours' drill, I 
 hardly knew myself, I was so lowly in spirit, and 
 so humble in my opinion of my military merits. I 
 was too tired for further exercise, and throwing 
 myself on a couch, I slept until nearly dark. 
 
 I must have conveyed something of the condi- 
 tion of my mind and body, when, in the evening, I 
 called at Captain Archer's quarters, for an amused 
 smile lurked about the corners of his mouth, as he 
 inquired, " How do you like the drill, Clifton ? " 
 
 I gave him a history of the afternoon's drill, with 
 some of my reflections thereon, when both his sis- 
 ter and he laughed immoderately. 
 
 " I don't think you would laugh had you been 
 in my place," I said, somewhat testily. 
 
 " Private Delaney is one of the best drills in the 
 
LEARNING TO BE A SOLDIER. 153 
 
 service. If it was not for drink, he might hold 
 any non-commissioned position in the army with 
 credit. When I entered West Point, he was a 
 member of Co. A of the U. S. Engineers, and he 
 taught me my facings and drill, just as he has been 
 teaching you." 
 
 " Did you stand on one foot, like this ? " said I, 
 suiting the action to the word. 
 
 " Yes, and as needless as I thought it, I now know 
 that it is a very essential part of marching, for 
 it gives such steadiness to the body that there 
 is no jostling of each other by the men of a 
 marching column." 
 
 That evening, when I left Captain Archer's 
 quarters, it was with the determination that I 
 would allow Private Delaney to run me a while 
 longer as a military machine ; for certainly if 
 Captain Ai'cher had come out of it alive, after 
 five years of exacting drill, I was not going to 
 show the " white feather " over four or five days 
 of it. 
 
 After I had been drilled for about a week in 
 my facings, in the manual of arms, in marching, 
 and in bayonet drill, the Captain came to inspect 
 my performance. After giving the words of com- 
 mand and putting me through the drill, he said, 
 addressing Private Delaney, who stood at attention 
 and saluted, — 
 
 " Very good ; your pupil does you justice. " 
 
 " Yes, sir, and, " saluting, " a very pretty piece 
 of drill for a raw recruit, sir, " said Delaney. 
 
154 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 "That will do, Private Delaney. " The old 
 soldier saluted, came to a right face, and marched 
 stiffly away to his quarters. 
 
 With the exception of an occasional hour or 
 two to keep in practice, this ended my instruction 
 under the old drill-master. 
 
 I learned the company movements, or at least 
 all that could he learned without practical inter- 
 pretation, and recited them to Captain Archer, 
 He was pleased to express satisfaction at my 
 progress, and he explained to me all movements, 
 so that I understood them and their purpose. 
 
 A letter from my father informed Ca})taiii Archer 
 that a squad of twenty men had been formed in 
 Lakeview for military drill, and also asked him if he 
 could get several copies of the tactics to assist them 
 in drilling. As the expected order assigning him to 
 duty in the volunteers did not come, Captain 
 Archer thought I might, on my return home, 
 practise m}^ lessons with good effect on the twenty 
 aspirants for military glory at Lakeview. " Perhaps 
 you can recruit enough of them for the — th 
 Illinois, so that when I am assigned to duty, I 
 can get you a commission, or at least get you a 
 sergeant's billet and put you in line of promotion, 
 as you may deserve." 
 
 As I passed through St. Paul on my way home, 
 I found that the people talked of nothing but the 
 war. 
 
 My Uncle John had caught the fever, and was 
 
LEARNING TO BE A SOLDIER. 155 
 
 very much interested in military affairs. He was 
 raising a company of men, and said he had no 
 doubt that he could secure me a commission with 
 them if I would enlist. I had promised Captain 
 Archer before leaving Fort Snelling that I would 
 not enlist without consulting him. The war excite- 
 ment, however, in St. Paul was so intense that I 
 was almost carried off my feet by it, my desire to 
 enlist was so great. 
 
 At last I reached home and was glad enough 
 to see my father and Bess and Aunt Hitty once 
 more. 
 
 I at once began drilling the military aspirants 
 at Lakewood ; for harvesting was over and they 
 had leisure for this recreation. 
 
 My cousin Sam Ryder wished to be possessed 
 of all my military knowledge at once, and he with 
 Matt and Peter, were my first pupils. 
 
 I cannot even now repress a smile of amusement 
 at thinking how much more severe I was with 
 my pupils than Private Delaney had been with me. 
 
 Sam questioned the utility of my exactions and 
 said, " Now, see here, Tom, this little finger in 
 the rear of the seam of the pants don't seem to 
 me to be of a thunderin' bit of use. " 
 
 When I set them all to swinging one foot, and 
 depressing the heel and toe while standing on the 
 other, Sam came out in open rebellion. 
 
 " Say, Tom, what gol-dang nonsense are you 
 givin' us ! staudiu' a feller on one foot like a 
 
156 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 sand-hill crane gone to sleep, and makin' him 
 swing ' totlier. " 
 
 " What orders should be given? " I inquired tartly. 
 
 " Why, " said Sam gravely with an oratorical 
 flourish, " shoot the enemy whenever found ; and 
 never let up on 'em." 
 
 Matt laughed and said, as if bound to sustain 
 my authority although my drill had made him 
 wince^ " Sam, you couldn't hit a barn-door with 
 a rifle if you was within a hundred yards of it." 
 
 " Knees straight without stiffness I " yelled Sam, 
 after I had severely drilled him for an hour. " I'd 
 like to know how a feller can help bein' 
 stiff after all that coiisarned tread-mill business — 
 Tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum. It's thunderin' 
 
 nonsense 
 
 If my recruits learned nothing, I, at least, learned 
 to practise that which I had committed to memory 
 and learned in theory. I was zealous to convey 
 to others the disgust I had at first conceived for 
 military things, knowing from my own experience 
 that they would put into practice the lessons at 
 the first opportunity offered, and make some one 
 else take the bitter pills of drill. 
 
 I suppose the first soldier (whoever he was) 
 that submitted himself to the vexatious routine 
 of military drill thought it needless, as all others 
 to the end of time will. It is useless to theorize 
 to men on the benefits to be derived from exact- 
 ness in little details, for nothing but actual experi- 
 ence can demonstrate their utility. 
 
LEARNING TO BE A SOLDIER. 157 
 
 I Imve noticed that although men do not at first 
 submit very gracefully to being made over into the 
 machine known as a soldier, they finally take pride 
 in the acquirements which they at first thought 
 needless. 
 
 When I had been at home nearly two weeks, I 
 received a letter from Captain Archer, requesting 
 me to join him, as he had at last received the 
 order assigning him to duty in his native state, as 
 a colonel of the — th Illinois regiment of Infantry. 
 After visiting his family, he intended reporting 
 for duty at once. 
 
 Peter insisted on accompanying me to camp 
 when the time for my departure came. Matt and 
 Sam had duties that detained them at home for 
 awhile. 
 
 My father must, as I now know, have had 
 many misgivings about permitting me to enlist. 
 Aunt Hitty voiced her disapproval by manj^ 
 characteristic speeches, and then scolded others 
 for making it so hard for my father to let me do 
 my duty. 
 
 " I shall come along to camp just as soon as my 
 mother is settled for the winter ; and I must help 
 your father, too, for when you and Peter are gone 
 he will need me," said Matt. 
 
158 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 FROM "CAMP can't GET AWAY " TO SHILOH. 
 
 Peter and I arrived by steamer at a thriving 
 town known as Corkscrew Bend, on the Mississippi 
 River, near where the camp of the — th Illinois 
 was established. 
 
 As it was quite late in the evening when we 
 arrived, we remained all night in town. The next 
 morning being Sunday, we walked out about 
 two miles to " Camp Can't Get Away." Being in 
 some doubt as to the direction we should take, we 
 asked a man travelling on the same road. He 
 replied that he, like ourselves, was on his way to 
 that camp. 
 
 At a first glance there was nothing striking in 
 the man's appearance ; in fact, he seemed a very 
 ordinary person. He had a thin, hatchet face, 
 brown with constant exposure to the wind and 
 sun ; high cheek-bones, and a square, massive jaw, 
 partially concealed by bristle-like, reddish-brown 
 whiskers. His shoulders had a peculiar stoop, 
 and all his limbs seemed loose-jointed, as if, like 
 many structures we saw along the road, they had 
 been hastily thrown together. His conversation 
 
1 noticed several quick, penetrating glances directed towards Peter 
 by the stranger." — Page 159. 
 
"CAMP CAN'T GET AWAY" TO SHILOH. 159 
 
 was not very lively — in fact, it was extremely 
 brief and commonplace. 
 
 " Are there many men at the camp ? " 
 
 He reflected a moment, at the same time glan- 
 cing over the fields, as if it were a question of crops, 
 and replied, — 
 
 " Well ; a right smart of 'em, I reckon." 
 
 " Are you going to enlist ? " 
 
 After another general survey of the fields, he 
 replied, '' No, stranger, I reckon not," gi^"ing rae 
 a quick, shrewd glance, as if gauging my personal 
 qualities. I noticed that there gleamed in his eye 
 a fox-like keenness, which in some way made me 
 think that his wits were quick and that his senses 
 were trained by some very unusual experiences. 
 
 All the time Peter, with his gliding step, turn- 
 ing his face neither to the right nor left, apparently 
 not observing our companion, silently walked by 
 my side. I noticed several quick, penetrating 
 glances directed towards Peter by the stranger, 
 and something in Peter's manner reminded me of 
 times with him in hunting when he was watchful 
 of danger, I recalled these feelings afterwards, 
 although at the time they left only a passing 
 impression upon me. 
 
 We passed into camp without further incident. 
 The stranger informed me that the name of the 
 camp had been given it because, when once en- 
 listed there, it was found hard to get away.. 
 However difficult it may have been originally to 
 
160 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 escape from this camp, I could not help thinking 
 that its military duties were now very loosely con- 
 ducted, or, as the stranger said, that " Camp Can't 
 Get Away was mostly running itself." 
 
 The tents were pitched out of line ; their inte- 
 riors, as was shown by occasional glimpses, were 
 unclean and disorderly. In some instances mus- 
 kets were seen in front of the tents, stuck into the 
 ground by the bayonets. The arms were rusty 
 and the uniforms of the men slovenly ; straw and 
 other refuse of the camp were scattered around the 
 grounds or in the company streets. Among the 
 men there was loud talking, laughing, and profan- 
 ity. Some were met who were drinking from each 
 other's canteens, and their hilarity suggested a 
 beverage stronger than water. Familiar buffoonery 
 was going on without much distinction of rank, 
 althouorh as to rank I cannot remember seeing more 
 than four commissioned officers in camp during the 
 day. One of these was making a bombastic war 
 speech in front of his quarters to some men of 
 his company who had presented him with a saddle 
 horse. Another was a major, to whom a private 
 exclaimed, " Hullo, Maje ! did you bring me any 
 of that prime whiskey from town ? " 
 
 The officer addressed wore a slouch hat on one 
 side of his head, a white shirt without a vest, a 
 blue coat with tarnished buttons and major's straps, 
 and trousers stuck into the legs of a pair of muddy 
 boots. He replied to the private, "No, Fowler; I 
 
"CAMP CAN'T GET AWAY" TO SHILOH. 161 
 
 done forgot it ! Give me a smoke ? " and suiting 
 the action to the word, he took a lighted pipe from 
 the private's mouth, and walked away smoking it. 
 
 " That's what I call an almighty good feller ; no 
 airs about him ; just the chap the fellers are goin' 
 to rally around and fight for," said Fowler. 
 
 The other officers whom I met were two lieuten- 
 ants, from whom I learned that there had been little 
 instruction in military duties ; that many of the 
 men were absent without leave ; that none of them 
 seemed to understand the necessity for strict regu- 
 lations of any kind ; and that there were no dis- 
 tinctions shown except in uniform. One of these 
 lieutenants was a fine-looking young man to whom 
 I was attracted at once, and he afterwards became 
 captain of my company. 
 
 Greatly to the prejudice of meritorious men, and 
 of the service, officers at this time were appointed 
 by the governors for the number of men they were 
 able to recruit for the service rather than for any 
 capacity shown by them for the positions. 
 
 I could find no proper officer to report to, and 
 so Peter and I concluded to await the coming 
 of Captain Archer, who was on a short visit to 
 his friends, before enrolling our names in that 
 regiment. 
 
 During the day we again encountered the man 
 who had come to camp with us, passing around 
 carelessly, but with his eyes apparently on every- 
 thing. Once we heard him ask how many men 
 there were in camp. 
 
162 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 " I've seen that man 'fore," said Peter. 
 
 " Where ? " I asked, not a little surprised. 
 
 " Up Minnesota, 'mung Injuns. He hunt ; buy 
 furs ; gamble ; Injuns call him ' Wild Dog,' " 
 
 I afterwards inquired of several men if they 
 knew him, but could find no one that had ever 
 seen him before. 
 
 We had not long to await the coming of Captain 
 Archer. The next day he came into camp in a very 
 unassuming manner, passed around without mak- 
 ing himself known, and that morning the following 
 orders were issued : — 
 
 Headquakteks, Camp Can't Get Away, Illinois, 
 September, 16, 1861. 
 Regimental Okder No. 1. 
 
 I. Colonel Edward Archer, — th Illinois Volunteer Infantry, 
 hereby assumes command of the camp and regiment. In enter- 
 ing upon the duties of organization, I trust that every member 
 of the regiment fully appreciates the importance of the first 
 principles of the soldier, — obedience to orders, without which 
 there can be no efficiency. 
 
 II. Cleanliness is next in importance, and captains of com- 
 panies are charged with attention to this. The company streets 
 will be policed each morning ; and the colonel will cause fre- 
 quent inspection of the men, with bare feet, and with their 
 shirts unbuttoned. 
 
 III. The hair is to be kept short ; this applies to all. 
 
 IV. Officers and men are required to appear at all times in 
 uniform, unless on leave of absence for longer than tliree days. 
 
 V. No member of the regiment will be permitted to leave 
 camp, except on duty, without authority. 
 
 VI. The attention of the regiment is called to those portions 
 of the Articles of War relating to drunkenness and profanity, 
 
''CAMP CAN'T GET AWAY" TO SHILOH. 163 
 
 and the observance of the Sabbath. No spirituous liquors will 
 be allowed in camp. 
 
 VII. Hereafter there will be squad drill of the men, by non- 
 commissioned officers, between two o'clock and five o'clock 
 P.M. each day except Sunday. The field oflicers will punctu- 
 ally attend all drills. 
 
 There was a great deal of blustering talk at first 
 against the rigor of these orders ; but in less than 
 a week the camp underwent a salutary change, 
 which but for the intelligence of the men, who 
 readily -saw the advantage and necessity for disci- 
 pline, might be considered marvellous. The camp 
 became orderly and clean, and was guarded by 
 sentinels well informed. • 
 
 Squad, company, and regimental drill had begun, 
 and the men cheerfully assumed the duties of sol- 
 diers, instead of spending their time in inactivity, 
 or worse. Passes were given to such as were 
 recommended by their captains or sergeants, while 
 strict punishments were inflicted upon such as 
 over-stayed passes, or who infringed military or- 
 ders. 
 
 Peter and I were soon enrolled as members of 
 the regiment. I received the appointment of 
 lance corporal, which means that I held the posi- 
 tion, but had no warrant or billet, but that I might 
 receive the position, if my conduct and drill war- 
 ranted it, thereafter. 
 
 Peter learned his drill very quickly. I was ap- 
 pointed to drill men in their facings, and in the 
 manual of arms, and in a few weeks received a 
 
164 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 warrant as fourth corporal of my company, being 
 recommended by the captain for the position. 
 Peter was also made a corporal. 
 
 Matt, Sam Ryder, and four other recruits from 
 our settlement, came during the week, and it made 
 the camp seem more homelike for us to have old 
 friends around. They brought news of the farm 
 and neighborhood, and a letter from my father. 
 
 Matt very quickly learned the duties of a soldier, 
 and was soon one of the strictest martinets of the 
 company. He was very proud of his corporal's 
 stripes, which he had fairly earned by his atten- 
 tion to drill and discipline ; and his square shoul- 
 ders and erect military person made him the ideal 
 of the volunteer soldier. 
 
 I think that in my whole military career I have 
 never known a more enthusiastic and painstaking 
 volunteer soldier than Matthew Ryan. 
 
 The colonel took no more notice of us person- 
 ally than he did of other members of the regiment. 
 He occasionally sent for me to communicate some 
 home news, but that was all. 
 
 For two months we were drilled incessantly, 
 until the raw material was hammered or welded 
 into the military mass known as a regiment. 
 
 The amount of effort devoted to the study of 
 the military profession, I was afterwards informed 
 by Colonel Archer, would be considered very 
 unusual, even in a regular regiment. 
 
 Officers' drill (this included non-commissioned 
 
''CAMP CAN'T GET AWAY" TO SHILOH. 165 
 
 officers) was conducted by the colonel, while 
 squad, company, battalion, bayonet, drill and po- 
 licing camp occupied the men continually. Such 
 rapid progress, or so much interest, has seldom, 
 if ever, been equalled in a regiment. 
 
 Officers not suited to their positions from want 
 of industry, character, or other causes, soon made 
 their inefficiency known, and either voluntarily 
 resigned or were politely informed by the colonel 
 that they were not likely to be useful, and went 
 home. The second lieutenant of our company, I 
 have mentioned, became first lieutenant, then 
 captain. 
 
 After a quarter of a century, in looking over the 
 first roster of our officers, I find that, as a rule, 
 fitness was found to exist inversely with rank. 
 Of the captains, only four ever went into battle, 
 while several of the lieutenants and many non- 
 commissioned officers attained distinguished rank 
 by after services. 
 
 No men of our regiment, I am proud to say, 
 during the terrible months that followed, failed in 
 the performance of their duty. Steadiness under 
 fire and soldierly habits were the fruits of the 
 few months of drill in " Camp Can't Get Away." 
 The spring campaign was about to open, and we 
 were at last ordered to "pack up." 
 
 It was in March, 1862, that we were embarked 
 on a steamer and headed down the Mississippi. 
 
 " Say, Tom," said Corporal Matt to me, " do 
 
166 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 you know what boat this is? It's the Prairie 
 Queen. There's the old captain standing on the 
 wheel-house now ! " 
 
 It was, sure enough, the same on which we had 
 gone up the Mississippi to St. Paul five years before. 
 The captain was little changed, but at first he did 
 not remember us. When he was reminded of the 
 circumstances of our trip up the river, he shook us 
 very heartily by the hand, and then shook hands 
 again to express his great pleasure. 
 
 " Well," he said, " your father said, ' who holds 
 the Mississippi holds the kentry,' and here we are 
 at it hot and heavy to see who'll hold it. Here's 
 where the tussle's coming, sure enough." 
 
 We had mentioned the incident of Aleck's advent 
 on his steamer, and his leathery face lit up with 
 interest as he said, " Say you, did you ever see 
 that nigger agin ? " 
 
 We gave him an account of our relations with 
 Aleck and his mysterious disappearance. 
 
 " Well, now, I tell you, that boy when he was 
 stolen was carried back on board of this very 
 boat. He was brought on board a few miles below 
 St. Paul. One of the men who had him was a 
 gambler and Indian trader that had been on my 
 boat before, and I calc'late he's a nigger trader 
 named Spring. He used to go up and down the 
 river with me years ago. Them fellers felt purty 
 good over gettin' your Aleck back agin. 
 
 " They had his hands and feet tied, and one of 
 
"CAMP CAN'T GET AWAV TO SHILOU. 167 
 
 the ropes fastened to a ring-bolt on the upper deck. 
 About nine o'clock at night we stopped at a land- 
 ing below Cairo, when some one whizzed by me 
 like a shot, and was off. There was considerable 
 outcry at first, for them ropes lay on deck, and 
 they'd been cut smack and smooth with a knife ! 
 That boy had got away agin, as sure as you live," 
 and the captain chuckled as if he was not entirely 
 dissatisfied, and I got the idea that he knew more 
 about the cutting of Aleck's bonds than was told. 
 
 "What did they say?" 
 
 " Well, Spring didn't say much ; he don't let 
 himself out in talk ; 'tain't his way ; but the t' other 
 feller cussed everything blue. They got off at the 
 next landin', and I ain't seen hide nor hair on 'em 
 since. That Spring feller's a peculiar chaj) ; sharp 
 as a fox." 
 
 The captain insisted on giving us a seat at his 
 table, and so, aside from the renewal of our old 
 acquaintance, the episode was very gratifying to 
 a hungry soldier boy. 
 
 At last we were landed at Cairo, at the con- 
 fluence of the Mississippi and the Ohio. This was 
 a convenient rendezvous for troops to be used on 
 those rivers and its tributaries, the Tennessee and 
 the Cumberland. A large number of steamers, 
 thrown out of employment by the blockading of 
 the Mississippi, were here available as transports 
 for troops and supplies. 
 
 We here got the first news of the capture of 
 
168 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Fort Henry on the Tennessee and Fort Donelson 
 on the Cumberland. The seizure of Paducah, at 
 the mouth of the Cumberland, by General Grant 
 some time previously had opened these two rivers 
 to the operations of the Union army, and now the 
 capture of Forts Henry and Donelson and their 
 garrisons had broken the line of the enemy from 
 Columbus to Bowling Green. 
 
 The excitement was intense among our Illinois 
 men, and the fighting qualities of our generals and 
 men proved a never-ending theme of discussion. 
 We were all enthusiastic, and wrote to the folks 
 at home in a wild strain of patriotism (on paper 
 decorated with the National colors), about finishing 
 the war in a hundred days, and being at home by 
 harvest time. 
 
 I remember now as I write, that, although our 
 Illinois men, with the characteristics common to 
 Republican Americans, were hungry for a hero, 
 they did not think of Grant as the coming Napo- 
 leon, but rather looked to General McClernand to 
 perform that part. 
 
 Said one of these men who had seen Mc- 
 Clernand, " Now, see how he fit at Fort Donelson. 
 When them rebs wanted commissioners appointed 
 to see to the surrender, he said, — McClernand did, 
 — ' I'm goin' to move on yer work ter wonct ! ' " 
 
 " It was General Grant that said that," said 
 Matt, who had been reading the newspapers. 
 
 " Look here, young feller ! I guess you don't 
 
''CAMP CAN'T GET AWAY" TO SHILOH. 169 
 
 understand Illinois politics. Of course that Grant 
 feller understands military, but McClernand is 
 the brains ! Grant's kinder managin' 'till Mac gits 
 the hang o' military things a little." 
 
 "What! that little Grant feller! old Jesse 
 Grant, the tanner's son ! " said a Galena man con- 
 temptuously. " Why, he ain't got no stuff in him ! 
 He's as quiet as a lamb ! Jack Rawlings is jest 
 a runnin' him. You'd ought to hear Jack make a 
 speech ! He's a hustler ; awful smart feller. 
 Humph ! that Grant feller !-" 
 
 We arrived at Paducah on the 8th, and at Fort 
 Henry on the 9th. Fort Henry is on the Ten- 
 nessee and Fort Donelson on the Cumberland 
 River, and it had puzzled me to know how 
 Donelson, being on a different river, could be 
 advantageously attacked by the land forces at 
 Fort Henry. I now discovered that the two 
 branches of the Ohio River ran for fifty miles 
 almost parallel to each other, and that an easy 
 march of ten or eleven miles across this narrow 
 neck of land brought our troops from one fort 
 to the other. 
 
 Finally, leaving this position, we steamed up 
 the Tennessee, and on the 15th were disembarked 
 at Yellow Creek, at four o'clock in the morning, 
 in the midst of a very disagreeable storm of rain 
 and sleet. I have always since found that damp- 
 ness and darkness are both fatal to military 
 enthusiasm. 
 
170 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 I had begun to find out that the ordinary soldier 
 does not select his own time for fighting or dying, 
 but often has to do both when it is most unpleas- 
 ant, and he is most unprepared. 
 
 We stood in line with the sleet pouring and the 
 water dripping down our backs, wondering why 
 military operations could not wait for fair weather. 
 
 Then the column moved. We were ordered to 
 keep closed up, and then began the most wearying 
 and discouraging experience of floundering and 
 miring in mud and water until the discontent of 
 the men was as deep as the slough. The whole 
 country was apparently under water, and the 
 " expeditionary force " was in danger of being 
 there also, unless we took the back track to the 
 boat! 
 
 At last, after nine o'clock, we turned back, and I 
 don't think I ever saw the military pomp taken 
 out of men so thoroughly. If epithets had been 
 bullets, directed at the enemy instead of our 
 generals, the enemy would have been destroyed. 
 
 " They do say that this doggoned General 
 Sherman is crazy, and this looks mightily like it," 
 said a lank Missourian in the line. 
 
 We were finally on board the transports again, 
 and got our dinner of hard-tack and coffee, and 
 soon steamed farther up the river, as Sam Ryder 
 said, "like the dove after the Deluge, looking for 
 a dry place to land." 
 
 At that time the Tennessee River rose fifteen 
 
*'CAMP CAN'T GET AWAY" TO SHILOH. 171 
 
 feet in less than twenty-four hours and all the low 
 land along its banks was under water. 
 
 Later in the day we ran down to Pittsburg 
 Landing. Here some of the troops and artillery 
 were landed. Finally we were all debarked, and 
 had a chance to stretch our legs on land, even if 
 it was not on dry land. 
 
 Here I first saw General Sherman. He was 
 superintending the disembarkment. His manner 
 was quick and nervous, and I thought by the few 
 sharp words he uttered, that he was impatient of 
 delays occasioned by the rain. His reddish hair 
 and his face, " sicklied o'er with the pale cast of 
 thought," his high, pale forehead, and tall, thin 
 person, gave him the appearance of a student 
 rather than a man of action. 
 
 Among the first orders issued, I remember the 
 following : " No citizen will be allowed to come 
 within the lines, and the guard will be instructed 
 to make prisoners of all lurking in the neighboring 
 country. The people at their homes will not be 
 molested, but protected. Wagons loaded with for- 
 age, will be allowed to come to our lines, but not 
 beyond." 
 
 Our regiment was finally encamped on a hill- 
 side near a wood, beyond which was a ravine, while 
 farther on our left were several log structures, and 
 among them the Shiloh " meeting-house." 
 
 The country was rolling land, mostly wooded, 
 
172 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 with here and there a clearing ; every one of these 
 has now a sanguinary history. 
 
 Our company was put on picket a few days after 
 our arrival, to keep the usual watch along army 
 lines. No enemy was in sight, but there had come 
 to us rumors of a serious cavalry encounter be- 
 yond us. 
 
 That afternoon a team came along the narrow 
 Purdy road, loaded with forage, which was taken 
 by the quartermaster. The man driving the team 
 had a basket filled with chickens and other eatables, 
 which he asked permission to carry to his mother, 
 an old woman who he said was sick, and who 
 lived near the church. At first this was refused ; 
 but Matt said, " One man can't eat up an army, let 
 him go ! " so Sam was put on as a guard to accom- 
 pany him. 
 
 Peter, who had been eying the man, turned to 
 me after he had left, and said, " Wild Dog." 
 
 " Why, tliis man does not look like him ! " I 
 said. 
 
 " He Wild Dog ! " persisted Peter. 
 
 I informed the colonel of what Peter had said, 
 when he gave orders to have him arrested. Before 
 we had gone far we met Sam coming back, and in 
 reply to our questions he said, "That sly feller 
 give me the slip down by the meetin' 'us, but of 
 course he will come here fur his team, and there 
 can't be much danger from one man," 
 
"CAMP CAN'T GET AWAY" TO SHILOH. 173 
 
 Peter, however, shook his head, saying "Wild 
 Dog spy." 
 
 Colonel Archer seemed to be of the same opinion, 
 for he gave strict orders to arrest the man if found 
 within our lines again ; but he was not found. 
 
174 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 BATTLEFIELD OF SHILOH. 
 
 About the first of March, while at the landing 
 assisting in drawing rations for the regiment, I for 
 the first time saw General Grant. 
 
 After the battle of Donelson he had been for 
 some time without a command, and it was rumored 
 that he was under arrest. He was now, however, 
 assigned to the command of the Army of the Ten- 
 nessee. 
 
 At the landing there were, at the time of my 
 visit, several light-draft steamers with gang-planks 
 run out to the shore : from one of these (the " Ti- 
 gress," I think) was being landed a group of offi- 
 cers and orderlies with their horses. 
 
 " There's General Grant," said one of our party, 
 pointing him out. 
 
 " What, that little fellow ? " exclaimed Matt. 
 
 Certainly, of all the officers of the group (per- 
 haps ten in number), he appeared to me the least 
 like a general. There was nothing distinguished 
 or striking in his appearance, for in person he was 
 insignificantly small. We crowded near to get a 
 good look at him. He was very quick, his voice 
 
BATTLEFIELD OF SHILOH. 175 
 
 low and distinct, yet full of suppressed energy. 
 He had in his face a look of concentration that 
 gave me the impression that he might be terribly in 
 earnest in spite of his coolness, should the occasion 
 demand, and as if he could concentrate all his pow- 
 ers of mind to the solving of a difficult problem. 
 
 When his horse was brought out, he mounted 
 without use of the stirrup, and sat his horse easily 
 though not gracefully. 
 
 I may have noticed his insignificant figure the 
 more from the fact that he was accompanied by 
 one of the most magnificent men physically that I 
 had ever seen, — a black bearded, strong featured 
 man, tall and graceful, and magnificently uni- 
 formed, — a man afterwards known to fame as 
 General James McPherson, but then a colonel on 
 General Grant's staff. 
 
 After the group had galloped away an Iowa man 
 of our party exclaimed, " Why, it looks like he 
 hadn't growed yet! " 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Why, that quiet feller Grant." 
 
 The whole group agreed with the Iowa man's 
 statement that Grant " wouldn't set the Tennessee 
 River afire." It must be confessed that the 
 Republican volunteer soldiers of that period be- 
 lieved in a general with a little more gold lace, 
 brass buttons, and pomp than what that " little 
 feller Grant " carried around. 
 
 There was at this time at Pittsburg Landing a 
 
176 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 formidable army of nearly thirty-five thousand 
 men — an army larger than that which Napoleon 
 commanded in his first Italian campaign, when he 
 descended upon the fields of Marengo like an eagle 
 from the Alps. 
 
 The last of March the Army of the Ohio, con- 
 sisting of thirty thousand, began its march to join 
 the Army of the Tennessee. This would give 
 Grant over sixty thousand men with whom to 
 attack and overwhelm the enemy, gathering like 
 a cloud at Corinth, some twenty miles distant. 
 
 Singular as it ma}'- now appear, there was no 
 anticipation or fear in our army at that time that 
 the enemy might abandon the I'ole of the hunted 
 and become the huntsman. 
 
 The town of Corinth is twenty-two miles by 
 road, south-west from Pittsburg Landing, and 
 almost on the line of Mississippi and Tennessee. 
 It was a very important strategic point, for from 
 thence railroads radiated north, west, south, and east, 
 very important for the rebels to hold, and, there- 
 fore, equally desirable for our army to capture. 
 Here Albert Sidney Johnston had gathered an 
 army of forty thousand Confederates who were 
 burning to retrieve the disasters of Forts Henry 
 and Donelson. 
 
 Halleck, the general in command, all wrapped 
 in his own great thought like the bird of wisdom, 
 had not learned these facts. The able Confederate 
 general had, however, learned of the contemplated 
 
BATTLEFIELD OF SHILOH. 177 
 
 union of Buell's forces with those of Grant, and 
 began at once to bestir himself to prevent this 
 juncture. 
 
 On the 2d of April he put his army in motion 
 to attack, and destroy if possible, the army under 
 Grant before Buell's arrival with his thirty thou- 
 sand men. The intervening country to be trav- 
 ersed by Johnston's army to reach Shiloh was cut 
 by streams, was in j)art heavily wooded, and its 
 roads were muddy and poor. This so delayed the 
 march of his army that it did not reach our front 
 until Sunday morning, AjDiil 6. 
 
 At this time the five divisions of the Union 
 army were stretched across the top of a V-shaped 
 peninsula, the right arm of which is formed by 
 Snake and Owl Creeks, and the left by the 
 Tennessee River and Lick Creek. The ground 
 within this V is undulating tableland, rising from 
 the Tennessee about one hundred feet, mostly 
 wooded, with here and there a clearing. Along 
 the lower part of the lower left arm of this V 
 formed by the Tennessee, the land is broken into 
 abrupt ravines, while at Lick Creek, which forms 
 its upper part, there rises a range of hills, which 
 slope towards the battlefield. 
 
 On the morning when this bloody battle began, 
 the Army of the Tennessee under Grant was 
 formed across the top of this V as follows : First, 
 Sherman's division on the extreme right covering 
 the Purdy Road, across Owl Creek and to the 
 
178 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 clearincT at Shiloh Church ; then McClernand's 
 and Prentiss's divisions ; with Huilbut's in the 
 rear of Prentiss's, and C. F. Smith's division in 
 rear on our right, both in reserve. 
 
 Up tlie river at Crump's Landing, where it was 
 believed an attack might be made by the enemy, 
 there were stationed five thousand men under 
 General Lew Wallace. 
 
 On Friday the enemy's cavalry captured sev- 
 eral of the men of our advance, and on Saturday 
 it was reported that his cavalry was still hovering 
 around our outposts. Later in the war this 
 would have been sufficient warning to our army 
 that an attack was impending ; but at this time 
 both officers and men were over confident, and 
 because of previous successes did not believe that 
 the Confederates would wait for a fight if attacked, 
 much less attack us on our own ground. 
 
 One of the cavalrymen among those who had 
 been sent out to drive away the enemy's videts told 
 Matt that they "had left the road full of dead 
 rebels, and he reckoned they'd a-got enough of it." 
 
 " Did they fight well ? " queried Matt. 
 
 " Fight, man ! What are you talking about ? 
 Every one of 'em turned tail and skedaddled when 
 they seed us comin'. We jest shot 'em down. 
 We'd 'a' killed the liull of 'em if they'd 'a' waited ; 
 but they was jest in a hurry, they was, when they 
 seed us a-comin' you bet." 
 
 It was not believed by General Grant that an 
 
BATTLEFIELD OF SHILOH. 179 
 
 attack was seriously menaced, or he would have 
 remained on the field Saturday night, instead of 
 returning to Crump's Landing. 
 
 Before daylight Sunday morning Peter awakened 
 me by saying, " Smell gunpowder ! hear guns ! " 
 
 " Oh, lay down, Peter ! You are always smell- 
 ing or hearing something. Let a fellow have his 
 nap!" said Matt, yawning. But in a moment more 
 we heard the distant " cracA;," " crack^^ " crack " of 
 musketry ; and though we had never heard an 
 attack before, its meaning was unmistakable. 
 
 We sj)rang to our feet, and seized our muskets 
 as the report of musketry grew louder and sharper 
 down on our left. Even then Sam Rj-der yawned 
 and said, " Oh, blast it ! them fellers down there 
 always shoot off their guns when they come in from 
 picket-duty." 
 
 " Two sides firing," said Peter, listening. 
 
 Matt and I knew too well his trained sense of 
 hearing to doubt his word on such a point ; and I 
 began to turn out the company, and we had put on 
 our equipments and haversacks when the order 
 came from our superiors. So that our muskets 
 were in order, and our haversacks bulging with 
 hard-tack and cooked " salt boss," when the captain 
 came down the line of tents. 
 
 Soon the long roll sounded along the line, and 
 men were seen trying to swallow their breakfast, 
 at the same time nervously adjusting their straps 
 and belts. 
 
180 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 The crasli of musketry and roar of artillery 
 grew more aud more distinct, and now fully justi- 
 fied Peter's assertion that there were " two sides " 
 to the uproar. 
 
 That tlie youthful reader may understand what 
 had happened, we will explain that a Confederate 
 force of seven thousand men under General Hardee 
 had at daylight advanced in two parallel lines, and 
 encountered General Prentiss's division, driving it 
 back to its camps, though stubbornly resisted at 
 every step. In order to avoid the deep ravines 
 running towards Lick Creek on the right and left, 
 this attacking force followed the level land on 
 which this road forks right and left near Shiloh 
 Church. This had brought it to a weak part of 
 our line between the right of Prentiss (whose 
 front was formed by one brigade thrown out a 
 mile in advance) and Sherman's left. 
 
 There is evidence in all the Confederate reports 
 of the over-confidence of Prentiss's men, but not of 
 a surprise. Prentiss's men were steadily driven 
 back to their camps by the foe, where the rebel 
 advance was checked by a terrible fire from a line 
 of men drawn up in front of their camps, in a 
 strong position covered by a morass in front. 
 From behind logs and bales of hay a terrible fire 
 here drove back the Confederates, inflicting on 
 them terrible loss. 
 
 The terrific nature of the fighting here is seen 
 by the fact that the Sixth Mississippi reports that 
 
BATTLEFIELD OF SHILOH. 181 
 
 it here lost three hundred killed and wounded out 
 of an effective force of four hundi-ed and twenty. 
 
 I make mention of this in justice to my brave 
 comrades of Prentiss's division, who have been 
 slandered by the report that they were surprised 
 in their camps. This was at half-past six Sunday 
 morning. 
 
 The whole of Sherman's division was mean- 
 while awaiting the attack. From the crests of the 
 hills the enemy could be seen moving along the 
 ravines, while near us we could see them massing 
 on the low land and not yet in position for attack. 
 Into their compact masses our batteries began to 
 throw shot and shell, and then we saw them scam- 
 pering for the cover of the woods. 
 
 The musketry fire soon began on the left of our 
 line, and we then received orders to march to sup- 
 port the right of a brigade which had encountered 
 the enemy near the Corinth Road. 
 
 This may seem commonplace to write, but it 
 was not so in reality. As we hastened towards the 
 sound of artillery, Avhich made the ground tremble, 
 and the long crackle of musketry and the crash 
 and din to which we were approaching, I for one 
 began to feel that I had mistaken my vocation. The 
 pallor and nervous tension shown on the faces of 
 my comrades as we went into line amid the hum and 
 zip and sharp ^'•ping!'''' of bullets that agitated the 
 air around us, and the pop ! pop ! pop ! pop ! of 
 musketry on our front, sounding for all the world 
 
182 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 like fire-crackers in a barrel, only louder and more 
 terrible, showed that we had already encountered 
 the enemy. 
 
 Shall I confess it ? Yes ; for as Matt used to 
 say, " Confession is good for the soul, if it is rough 
 on pride," so I will confess that I was frightened 
 and at the same time humiliated to feel that I 
 wanted to run away. I was acting orderly ser- 
 geant, and Peter, being the tallest corporal of the 
 company, touched elbows with me, while the cap- 
 tain was several paces in the rear as we began to 
 load and fire. I must have been much excited; 
 for Peter said, " Load too much," and I then 
 discovered that I had put two cartridges into 
 my musket without firing once, and when I did 
 fire, the recoil almost carried me to the rear 
 rank. 
 
 The noise and shouting, the hiss of bullets, and 
 the hissing, sputtering, and howling '•'■chu! cJiu! 
 cTiuirig!^'' of shell increased every moment. They 
 reminded Matt of " rebel locomotives that had left 
 their track at Corinth, and had come on a murder- 
 ous Yankee hunting excursion to Shiloh." 
 
 Then I began to recognize one sound that was 
 more awful than any other : it was the chug I 
 chug ! spat ! spat ! and shurr of bullets striking in 
 the mass of men around us, accompanied by sharp 
 cries or groans and curses from wounded men. 
 
 At the first explosion of shell around us, I was 
 too confused to tell what had happened. It seemed 
 
BATTLEFIELD OF SHILOH. 183 
 
 as if the world had gone to pieces and the larger 
 part of it, including the locomotives, was bursting 
 in space around us. 
 
 I heard the cry " Here they come ! " Cold chills 
 ran down my back, and then a sickening tremor 
 ran all over me, and settled in my knee-joints and 
 my stomach. All this, or at least enough of it, 
 must have been seen in my face, as the enemy 
 charged our lines, for Peter said in an undertone, 
 " Buck fever ! straighten up ! " I had heard people 
 tell how their hearts felt during times of great 
 peril and fear. Now that I have a chance to ex- 
 plain, I will say fear always went to my stomach 
 rather than to my heart. I could, however, hear 
 my heart above the uproar pounding away like 
 a muffled drum at a funeral. 
 
 I asked myself, after Peter's remarks, over and 
 over again, Am I really a coward? and as often 
 acknowledged. Yes. 
 
 I was so filled with shame at this acknowledg- 
 ment from my inner consciousness, that I straight- 
 ened up and gained enough command of myself to 
 be afraid of being thought afraid. I felt that I 
 must say something to keep up an appearance of 
 courage, and exclaimed to the men, " Dress up there 
 on the right," and heard Peter's grunt of approval 
 as I exclaimed, " There's nothing to be afraid of ! " 
 and then I thought, oh, what a sham I am ! 
 
 Just then I heard Colonel Archer say to a group 
 of mounted officers sheltered by some trees at our 
 
184 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 left, " General, we've repelled a charge," which 
 I am sure was news to me. The General replied, 
 " The enemy have got a flanking fire here " (and 
 just then a bullet struck my musket barrel, and 
 glancing off killed a man in the rear rank three 
 files from me). "Let the left of your regiment 
 fall back a little, and deliver their fire. We must 
 hold this position," said the General. "That's 
 Sherman ! " said some one. I looked up and saw 
 him sitting his horse as calmly as if it were a 
 dress parade, instead of real fighting. 
 
 As we were falling back some men joined us 
 who proved to be some of Prentiss's men who had 
 got separated from their command when he was 
 driven back ; here also we captured some of the 
 enemy's stragglers, and sent them down the 
 Corinth Road to the Landing. 
 
 Finally we got far enough back to keep up a 
 connected line with Prentiss who had been driven 
 back on Hurlbut, and we were in danger other- 
 wise of being cut off from our main line. Then 
 our whole force began graduall}^ receding. 
 
 In this new position a battery of the enemy on 
 our left began to throw shot and shell into our 
 ranks. Crash! hang! chug! came the shells, ex- 
 ploding above our heads, or ploughing up the dirt, 
 and crashing among the underbrush, and twice 
 striking our ranks, leaving ghastly relics of their 
 visits which I could not think of afterwards with- 
 out a shudder. 
 
BATTLEFIELD OF SHILOH. 185 
 
 " This won't do ! " said Colonel Archer. " Boys, 
 we must take that battery ! Shoulder arms ! trail 
 arms! forward! double-quick! charge!" and shout- 
 ing and yelling we charged the enemy. 
 
 " Rushing on the enemy " looks fine on paper 
 as I write it, but the real thing was not agreeable 
 as I remember the opei-ation. Even Peter said, 
 " We get killed." 
 
 I will say in justice to myself that I was now no 
 longer very much frightened. Yet when Matt 
 said to me, '^ Oh, an' if they'd only be kind enough 
 to run before we get to them ! " though I was not 
 frightened, it seemed to express a wish that I had 
 kept in reserve somewhere. 
 
 Fortunately for us, the shot from the rebel 
 batteries mostly went over us, and finally they, 
 seeing we were in earnest, didn't wait. 
 
 I remember during this charge Sam Ryder pick- 
 ing a triangular piece of skull-bone from his coat, 
 where some poor fellow of ours had had his brains 
 dashed out with a shot, and saying, as his eyes 
 protruded, " Thunder, look at that ! " 
 
 It was soon discovered that our charcre had car- 
 ried us to the same elevated ground, and so far that 
 we were cut off from our main line. So we dis- 
 mounted two guns and overturned another ,of them. 
 
 We could hear meanwhile with terrible distinct- 
 ness the roar of the fight receding towards Pitts- 
 burg Landing 
 
 *' We shall all be taken prisoners if we are not 
 
186 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 careful," said Sam Ryder. " Look ! " (pointing to 
 a line of smoke towards Pittsburg) " that's 
 Tophet witli the lid off ! " We crossed a clearing 
 and halted in the fringe of woods for concealment, 
 and while in this position a horseman rode out 
 into the clearing. I saw Peter bring his rifle to a 
 deadly aim. I struck up his musket. 
 
 " What matter? " said Peter. 
 
 "It's Lieutenant Preston," I replied. 
 
 " Can't help ; he rebel," said Peter, bringing his 
 musket once more to a deadly aim ; but just as 
 Peter fired, the horseman, putting his horse into a 
 gallop, disappeared among the trees. 
 
 Colonel Archer found on reconnoitring that it 
 was impossible for the regiment to get back by the 
 way it had come, as the enemy had got between us 
 and our lines. 
 
 He consulted Peter as an old woodsman, who 
 said, " Try find way out ; " and as he knew the 
 ground very well, we all thought he would do it 
 if any one could. We were now nearly out of 
 ammunition, and gathered it from some dead men 
 as the regiment passed through the thickets 
 towards Lick Creek. Without hesitation Peter 
 took an unusual path or trail. Was there a chance 
 for us after all ? 
 
 We were carefully feeling our way, and had got 
 a little beyond the Purdy Bridge across Owl 
 Creek when we came to a swamp partly over- 
 flowed. Through this we were safely conducted 
 
BATTLEFIELD OF SHILOH. 187 
 
 by Peter, who seemed to remember every fallen 
 log, every hummock and morass, over which he 
 guided all that remained of our regiment with 
 unerring instinct or memory. 
 
 We thought ourselves well out of our trouble, 
 and were just congratulating ourselves, when from 
 the wood on our right there came a volley of mus- 
 ketry that killed a number of our men and wounded 
 more. We steadily returned the fire while con- 
 tinuing our march, to prevent being cut off entirely 
 from our lines which we were then fast nearing, 
 and were on dry land once more. We were soon 
 once more in line with our troops. 
 
 Here we took account of our losses, and found 
 that a portion of our company had been captured, 
 wounded, or killed by the enemy, and among the 
 missing was Matt. 
 
 Amid such scenes, men have no time to lament 
 or borrow trouble, so burdened are they with the 
 things of the present. Peter looked anxious, but 
 showed no other signs of distress. 
 
 The fight along our lines still fiercely continued, 
 and we were at once assigned to a position. Our 
 thin line was continually pressed back, until we 
 came to the creek where a bridge crossed the 
 marshy land and stream connecting with the river 
 road from Crump's Landing. 
 
 It was over this bridge and by this road that 
 Lew Wallace, with five thousand men from 
 Crump's Landing, was anxiously expected to re-en- 
 
188 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 force our hard-pressed army wliich had been melt- 
 ing away like an iceberg in the tropics. Here we 
 were told we must hold the road on account of 
 Lew Wallace's expected arrival. 
 
 The Army of the Tennessee had fallen back until 
 it then occupied a continuous line from beyond 
 this bridge on Snake Creek, or Owl Creek, to 
 beyond the point on the Tennessee River where 
 our gunboats and transports lay. As our forces 
 were dwindled by wounds and death and skulk- 
 ing, they were driven to the narrow portion of the 
 V, to a position that could be held by fewer men. 
 
 Under the bluff there were crowds of fugitive 
 skulkers, whom no amount of argument could 
 induce to take their places in line. Along the top 
 of the bluff, on our left, not far from the Landing, 
 twenty pieces of artillery (some of them siege- 
 guns) were in position overlooking a deep ravine, 
 rendered impassable to cavalry or artillery by the 
 overflow from the Tennessee River, which made it 
 waist-deep with water and mud. 
 
 Hurlbut's division, or all that remained of it, 
 was formed on the right of these guns. Here the 
 last attempt to overwhelm our left flank was 
 stayed, when the Confederates who had formed 
 on the hill beyond were driven back under the 
 destructive fire of these guns. Tins was about sun- 
 down, and the well-disciplined troops of Nelson's 
 division of the Army of the Ohio arrived soon after- 
 wards. Night and Buell both came to succor the 
 
BATTLEFIELD OF SHILOH. 189 
 
 hard-pressed lines at Shiloh. Lew Wallace arrived 
 tardily after darkness liad come. The fortunes of 
 the day, which had trembled in the balance during 
 all that fateful afternoon, were restored, but, as 
 Sam Ryder said, " It was an awful tight squeak." 
 
 Tired, exhausted, and hungry, we lay down on 
 the field in line of battle in the heavy rain-storm 
 of that night, but with a sense of satisfaction in 
 the thought that " the enemy would ' catch it " 
 on the morrow." It had been the liveliest Sun- 
 day of my life. My heart was saddened by the 
 thought that poor Matt was in the hands of the 
 enemy, or wounded, or dead on the field. I was 
 too worn out to mourn long, and soon fell into a 
 sleep as sound as if pouring rains and damp, 
 hard ground added to my comfort. 
 
 When daylight came, stiff and lame and weary 
 we once more stood wet and shivering in line, 
 and soon took up the weary march of glory in 
 attempting to drive the enemy. 
 
 The Union army now formed a heavy column 
 with the Army of the Tennessee on the right and 
 Buell's army on the left. All that was left of 
 our regiment was formed on the left of our division. 
 The enemy now began getting away more speedily 
 than they had advanced. 
 
 The wounded and dead of both armies were a 
 terrible sight. Some of the cleared land over 
 which the tide of battle had surged on the pre- 
 vious day one might have crossed without touching 
 
190 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 the ground, by stepping on the dead. The brush 
 in the woods was in some places cut away as if 
 it had been mowed, while large trees were scarred 
 and barked and filled with pieces of shell, spheri- 
 cal case-shot, and bullets, showing the terrible fire 
 under which the Union army had melted away 
 during that eventful Sunday at Shiloh. 
 
 The day was too wet and depressing for glory, 
 and my heart was too gloomy and sad to rejoice 
 over a victory gained at such cost of human 
 suffering and sorrow. And poor, faithful Matt, 
 where was he ? My heart was as heavy that day 
 as the marching. 
 
 Before night there came the intelligence of 
 victory and that the enemy were hastily retreating 
 to Corinth. 
 
 That night we occupied our old camps ; but they 
 had been turned inside out, and most things eat- 
 able or valuable carried away. I never saw my 
 knapsack again, or any of the little keepsakes 
 I had therein ; but the Johnnie who got them 
 was welcome if it delayed him from firing even 
 one more shot in my direction. 
 
 Much has been since said by newspaper corre- 
 spondents of the cowardice of the men at Shiloh ; 
 but the fearful loss among the unnamed but heroic 
 soldiers who fell without hope of special mention 
 shows that the rank and file were animated that day 
 by the same courage and patriotic devotion that 
 finally saved the Union of States. 
 
BATTLEFIELD OF SHILOH. 191 
 
 The losses had been terrible : in Sherman's divis- 
 ion it was 2,034, only 450 of whom were among the 
 missing, and this among troops that had never 
 before seen a battlefield. 
 
 The want of cohesion and concert of action was 
 a bad feature of the Sunday's fight, but not in so 
 marked a degree as has been assumed among critics. 
 
 Shiloh was one of the bloodiest battles of the 
 West ; and whatever criticism of General Grant 
 may be made, his iron resolution and tenacious 
 will held those wavering lines till Buell came. 
 All honor to the men of the " Army of the Ohio ! " 
 No veteran of the army under Grant would take 
 from them a single laurel won upon that fateful 
 field on Monday, the 7th, and we were all re- 
 joiced to see them when they came to Pittsburg 
 Landing and we heard their steady volleys when 
 they took up the fight where we had left it on 
 Sunday evening, the 6th of April, 1862, with 
 more gladness than I can here express. 
 
192 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 SIEGE OF CORINTH. 
 
 If war presents anything more terrible than a 
 disastrous defeat, it is a great victory. During 
 a battle its participants have experienced a fluctu- . 
 ation of hopes and fears ; their excitement is 
 intense, and their nerves are strung to the highest 
 tension until hours after the event. There then 
 sets in a period of reaction and depression. 
 The victors have possession of the field with its 
 terrible harvest of wounds and death. Immedi- 
 ately after a battle there is a glow of exhilaration 
 on the part of the victors. The conflict itself 
 does not leave so horrible an im]3ression as do 
 its after scenes, where the awful tide of battle 
 has receded, leaving its stranded wrecks of dead 
 and wounded men, its broken caissons, dismounted 
 guns, its limber-boxes, broken wheels, disabled bag- 
 gage wagons and ambulances, the dead and bloated 
 horses and mules, broken muskets and equipments, 
 which strew the muddy roads and fields where 
 the crimson tide had ebbed and flowed. 
 
 The reaction from over excitement that sets in 
 after battle is a potent factor in preventing pursuit 
 
SIEGE OF CORINTH. 193 
 
 on the part of the victors. This after depression is 
 greater among raw soldiers than veterans because 
 their excitement during battle is greater, hence 
 their inability to make the after exertion so essential 
 to secure the fruits of a victory, and the necessity 
 for a reserve of fresh troojjs to secure it. 
 
 On Tuesday, the 8th of April, our regiment 
 formed a part of the force which under General 
 Sherman advanced over the Corinth Road in pur- 
 suit of the enemy. 
 
 There was everywhere evidence of their haste 
 to get away. Abandoned camps with hospital flags 
 for their protection lined the road. The roads 
 were deluged by a heavy rainfall and the ponder- 
 ous vehicles had stirred the mud into a batter 
 something like that of hasty-pudding before it is 
 cooled. 
 
 Where the Corinth Road forks, our cavalry was 
 sent out on both the right and left. Our regiment 
 advanced over the right fork for about half a 
 mile to a large cleared field beyond which we 
 saw an extensive camp. Here the enemy's cavalry 
 was forming, and in a moment more they charged 
 two Ohio regiments which formed our advance, 
 and scattered them like leaves before the wind. 
 When, however, they met our main line they were 
 driven back, and frightened horses with empty 
 saddles were seen galloping over the field ; and 
 their general hospital camp was abandoned to our 
 advance. 
 
194 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Here we found some three hundred of the 
 Confederate wounded and also forty or fifty of 
 our own. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon, and our men were 
 jaded and worn with fighting and marching. 
 General Sherman received an agreement of sur- 
 render from the medical director in charge, and 
 we were ordered to return to our camps. 
 
 Previous to this, Peter and I had obtained per- 
 mission to go through the hospital tents, to see if 
 Matt was among their inmates. 
 
 We had abandoned the search, and were obeying 
 the order to " fall in," when we encountered the 
 stretcher bearers with one of the, as we thought, 
 recently wounded cavalrymen, to whom I called 
 Peter's attention on account of the waxen pallor 
 of his face. 
 
 Peter looked and started toward the stretcher, 
 saying in low, guttural tones of excitement, 
 " That Wild Dog — Spy ; Wild Dog ! " 
 
 I said, approaching the Confederate attendants, 
 who had set down the stretcher, " What officer is 
 this ? " 
 
 " This is Captain Spring of the — th Louisiana 
 Cavalry," was the answer. 
 
 Peter reiterated, " Him Wild Dog." 
 
 I saw the wounded man turn a startled look 
 towards Peter. The name "Spring" seemed to 
 strike a chord that vibrated in some undefined way 
 in my memory, but the vibration gave no definite 
 tone. 
 
SIEGE OF CORINTH. 195 
 
 " Where have I heard that name before ? " I 
 asked Peter, as we took our place in the ranks and 
 marched away. 
 
 Peter shook his head, saying again, "Never 
 'member name. He Wild Dog." 
 
 He persisted in connecting this wounded Con- 
 federate with the man we had twice before met in 
 camp, yet this did not explain that undefined feel- 
 ing that I had heard the name before under other 
 circumstances. I finally dismissed the matter 
 from my mind, with the belief that I had con- 
 nected the name with some vague impression 
 rather than a tangible memory. 
 
 There was little doubt that we had seen this 
 officer within our lines under suspicious circum- 
 stances, that gave color to Peter's confident asser- 
 tion that he was a spy. This led me to visit the 
 colonel's quarters, and relate to him the incidents 
 on which this conviction was based. 
 
 As I was leaving the colonel's tent, a tall officer 
 entered, whereupon the colonel called me back, 
 saying, " Hold on a minute, Sergeant Clifton." 
 
 " What's wanted. Colonel ? " I inquired. 
 
 " I would like to have the General hear what 
 you have just told me." 
 
 So I repeated the story in the presence of 
 General Sherman, he constantly interrupting, by 
 finishing sentences for me, and cross-examining 
 me like a lawyer, and then saying, — 
 
 " Some wagons are going up this morning to 
 
196 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 bring down our wounded, and I will instruct the 
 officer to take you with him to inquire about this 
 Confederate officer." 
 
 " If the bird will wait until you get the salt on 
 his tail," said the colonel laughingly. 
 
 " That's all right : Medical Director Lyle signed 
 a formal surrender of the camp before 1 left," said 
 General Sherman. Turning to the desk, he wrote 
 an order for Corporal Peter Roy and Sergeant 
 Thomas Clifton to accompany the wagons which 
 were going to the rebel hospital, and handed it 
 to me. 
 
 Upon our arrival at the hospital, I went confi- 
 dently to the tent to which the wounded officer 
 had been carried, but he was not there. Thinking 
 he must still be in camp, we searched every nook 
 and corner, but without finding any clew to his 
 absence other than that given by the hospital 
 attendant that he had been moved. 
 
 " Moved where? " I inquired. 
 
 " Don't know," was the reply. 
 
 I then went to the Confederate Medical Direc- 
 tor's office, but no such officer had been recorded 
 among the wounded. 
 
 I told the incident to the lieutenant in charge 
 of our guard, and he said laughingly, " Some 
 shenanigan about it, youngster." 
 
 " Isn't there some way to compel these men to 
 tell what they know?" I inquired rather angrily. 
 
 " The man has skedaddled, and the trouble is to 
 
SIEGE OF CORINTH. 197 
 
 find out who knows about it, and then to make 
 them tell," he replied. 
 
 Peter growled out, " Sly fox, Wild Dog." 
 
 We returned to camp no wiser than when we 
 started, although when I narrated to the colonel 
 the result of the inquiry, he consoled me not a 
 little by saying, " It's pretty well settled that 
 you are right about his being a spy, for a wounded 
 man ordinarily would not be removed like that 
 if not menaced by some danger." 
 
 I afterwards learned that inquiries were set on 
 foot regarding this man, but with no other result 
 than leading to the same conclusion that Peter 
 had reached. 
 
 Very little of moment occurred fftr the next 
 two or three weeks, which were spent in drill 
 and the endless round of camp routine — scouring 
 muskets, brightening equipments, washing clothes, 
 and discussing the battle. 
 
 On this latter subject there was little agreement 
 except that we had beaten the enemy, and that 
 we were in some instances sadly demoralized. 
 
 The Confederates on their retreat were in worse 
 condition than we were. 
 
 The effects of this battle on the morale (that 
 undefined mental quality that can neither be 
 weighed nor measured, but which Napoleon de- 
 clared was to the physical as three to one), was 
 so great that its influence in determining the 
 character of the Western armies thereafter cannot 
 
198 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 be measured. It was as though our commander 
 had communicated during those two days of battle 
 liis own dogged, tenacious spirit to that army — 
 a spirit which it never thereafter lost. 
 
 Whatever else can be said of that great com- 
 mander, he had faith in his success, and did not 
 believe that the rebels had either superiority of 
 spirit, or a more favorable Providence on their side. 
 
 On the 11th General Halleck took command 
 of the three armies then gathered in the vicinity 
 of Pittsburg Landing ; viz., the Army of the Ohio 
 under Buell, the Army of the Mississippi under 
 Pope (with headquarters at Hamburg, four miles 
 above), and tlie Army of the Tennessee. Grant 
 was ignored and superseded; for although nomi- 
 nally in command of the district, he was really 
 set aside by the pedantic, impracticable Halleck. 
 
 The Confederate army at Corinth was mean- 
 while re-enforced and intrenched. Negroes took 
 the places of white teamsters, who were now put 
 into the ranks. 
 
 The people of the South-west, however, showed 
 but little enthusiasm in sending their sons to 
 Beauregard's army, and, if possible, still less in 
 lending their negro laborers to work on the 
 fortifications, or as teamsters. They felt that 
 they could not spare their slaves from fields and 
 domestic labors without starving both the army 
 and themselves. 
 
 Beauregard's army numbered about fifty thou- 
 
SIEGE OF CORINTH. 199 
 
 sand men : and Corinth, naturally a strong position, 
 had been made still stronger by all the arts 
 known to military ingenuity. 
 
 This town lies twenty-two miles by wagon-road 
 north-west from Shiloh. It is about four miles 
 south of the dividing line between Mississippi 
 and Tennessee, and at the junction of the 
 Mississippi and Chattanooga Railroads, which at 
 that point cross each other. 
 
 The greater part of the country was covered 
 with forests, in which clearings had been made 
 for houses, with dense underbrush along the 
 lowland. 
 
 Within our lines, meanwhile, the frequency of 
 inspection and the exasperating fussiness over 
 seemingly unimportant details foreboded a speedy 
 advance upon the enemy. 
 
 At last the order to move came. It was the 
 4th of May when we set out on our march over 
 the marshy roads, through a wilderness of forests, 
 towards Corinth. It soon began to rain in torrents, 
 and the roads, poor under ordinary circumstances, 
 now became bewilderingly deep with mud. The 
 columns struggling through this mire, the stalled 
 guns and teams, the violent exclamations of team- 
 sters, and the answering " he-haw " of the mules, 
 painted war in different and less heroic colors than 
 those with which I had been familiar in books. 
 
 The backwaters of the Tennessee had destroyed 
 bridges and overflowed the lowlands. But the 
 
200 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 roads were hastily corduroyed, and bridges recon- 
 structed, as the column dragged itself, like flies 
 through molasses, across the muddy country. 
 
 I had never before marched far with a knapsack, 
 and it was not long before I discovered that I was 
 not a seasoned vessel. 
 
 This knapsack being heavy with soldier wealth, 
 the straps galled and fretted me as I marched. 
 
 The sweat streamed down my face, but I could 
 get at no handkerchief to wipe away the torment- 
 ing rivulets. At the first halt I tlirew off my 
 knapsack with a groan, and examined it in order to 
 realize fully that it was the same one I had put on 
 at starting out. 
 
 I concluded that I had too many luxuries for a 
 soldier, and threw something away at every halting- 
 place. To add to my distress my army shoes, that 
 worked on my feet like a pair of suction-pumps, 
 had made two enormous blisters that broke and 
 left exasperatingly raw sores. 
 
 When I got into camp the first night I wanted 
 to be carried home. I say carried, for I could not 
 have walked a step had I been told to " go in peace." 
 I grieved that I had thrown away the rubber 
 blanket which now I needed, and the salve which 
 would have comforted my sore heels. But at the 
 right moment Peter opened his knapsack and 
 handed them both to me. He had thoughtfully 
 picked them up and gave them to me with the 
 laconic admonition, " Boy foolish ; load grow light 
 by and by." 
 
SIEGE OF CORINTH. 201 
 
 " Yes ; but that knapsack has nearly killed me 
 before I'm used to it! " I replied dolefully. 
 
 " If a feller wants to get a good, solid respect for 
 a mule, he must carry a knapsack like that one," 
 said Sam Ryder, kicking his with his foot. 
 
 I was not the only one with whom a knapsack 
 disagreed by any means. It is the usual com- 
 plaint of a new soldier on his first march. 
 
 An old soldier carries only needful things, but 
 sticks to them with dogged tenacity because they 
 are necessary to his comfort. During the resting- 
 spells when it did not rain Peter would lie down 
 at full length, saying, " Rest all over." 
 
 " Wall, yes," assented a soldier who had been 
 at Donelson and Fort Henry, "we need ittu, fur it's 
 a hard road to trabble, I supposed the mules did 
 this kind o' trucking. I tell you, we soldiers do the 
 work and the officers get the pay and the glory, 
 and don't you forgit it ! " 
 
 Finally one afternoon we arrived in camp and 
 saw the enemy intrenched along our front, and we 
 were not sorry, because the heavy marching was 
 for a time over; and yet we had marched alto- 
 gether less than twenty miles, a distance which 
 many of us a year after could have covered in less 
 than a day. 
 
 On the 18th our column drove the enemy from 
 their strong position at the Russell House, and 
 then we began fortifying. 
 
 On our front, on a high ridge overlooking a 
 
202 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 field, was a double log house from which the 
 enemy had removed the roof and the chinking 
 between the logs, thus affording a block-house for 
 their sharpshooters. 
 
 On the southern limit of this field were dense 
 underbrush and oaks, which the enemy held. The 
 ground between us and the enemy on the east, 
 where the country road ran, was marshy, and this 
 obliged the army to feel its way cautiously step by 
 step. Our troops here constructed strong defen- 
 sive works, laboring night and day. 
 
 Peter and I were detailed with others as sharp- " 
 shooters on the enemy who could be seen around 
 the log house and on the ridge, annoying our 
 pickets. 
 
 This was quite exciting, and we had no doubt 
 that our proceedings were unpopular with the 
 enemy, for their bullets would come humming 
 around us occasionally as if in protest. 
 
 From our position we could plainly hear the 
 beats of the enemy's drums in Corinth. One of 
 the men we met among the sharpshooters was 
 known as Jack Dillon, formerly a locomotive 
 engineer. 
 
 " These generals don't know everything ; I can 
 give them points ! " said Jack. 
 
 " What about ? " we inquired. 
 
 " Why, the rebs have been taking their truck 
 out of Corinth for a week, and I have told them 
 so." 
 
SIEGE OF CORINTH. 203 
 
 " How do you know that?" I inquired incred- 
 ulously. 
 
 " Why, any railroad man can tell whether a train 
 is loaded or empty by putting his ear to the rails ; 
 and those trains have been going out loaded and 
 coming in empty for a week past. Those fellers 
 are getting ready to skedaddle, and don't you 
 forgit it ! " said Jack ; and so it proved. 
 
 On the 27th a reconnoitring force found the 
 enemy's camps on the ridge road abandoned and 
 evidences of a hasty retreat. They had not re- 
 lieved their pickets, and most of them were 
 captured. 
 
 On the 30th our advance found Corinth aban- 
 doned, many of the houses in flames, and piles of 
 cannon-balls, salt, sugar, molasses, and other 
 property that the enemy had failed to destroy or 
 remove. A few citizens alone remained in the 
 town. 
 
 The rebel army had mostly escaped across the 
 creek, where they opened on the town with 
 canister, burning the bridge. Many of their 
 straggling soldiers were left in the woods ; a large 
 number of them surrendered with great cheerful- 
 ness. General Sherman afterwards reported that 
 if these men were disarmed they would not trouble 
 us much. 
 
 Among those picked up by my company, and 
 who afterwards came under this recommendation 
 of General Sherman's, was a queer-looking Irish- 
 
204 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 man. His head, which was as round as a spheri- 
 cal case-shot, was covered by a short growth of 
 bristling black hair. His beard was just about 
 a match for his hair. His nose ran upward from 
 the roots until it met another bone, forming an 
 acute angle. The short black teeth of his lower 
 jaw shut over the teeth of the upper jaw, and were 
 constantly exposed, while a pair of twinkling black 
 eyes looked out from under straight, bushy brows. 
 
 " How came you in the Confederate service ? " 
 inquired our captain. " Did they invite you ? " 
 
 " I wasn't invited, sor ! I was just tould to take 
 a gun, sor, and sure I had to, sor ! " 
 
 " What did they do to make you ? You don't 
 look Hke a man that could be persuaded against 
 his will." 
 
 " Well, sor, to tell you the truth, I couldn't live 
 on air, and I couldn't get a bit to eat or drink until 
 I jined 'em, sor." 
 
 " Couldn't you work for some one ? " 
 
 " Nobody wanted a white man ; only niggers to 
 work, sor ; they said they must f oight. I tould 
 'em I was a Northern man, and they said, ' North 
 of Ireland likely.' I told 'era, no sor, I had a 
 likely family in Minnesota settled on a farrum." 
 
 " I'm from Minnesota," I said. " What part of 
 the country do you belong to ? " 
 
 " Well, sor, I don't just remember, for I was 
 never there ; but if you can read, sor, perhaps you 
 can tell by this bit of a paper," he said, handing 
 
SIEGE OF CORINTH. 205 
 
 me a worn and crumpled letter, which I glanced 
 at carelessly, and was about to return without 
 reading, when something familiar in the writing 
 attracted my attention. 
 
 I read and gave a whoop of astonishment, 
 exclaiming to Peter, "• This is Matt's father ! This 
 is a letter my father wrote to him years ago. It 
 is father's handwriting I — What is your name ? " 
 I inquired of the Irishman. 
 
 "Michael Ryan," he replied, after a moment's 
 hesitation. 
 
 When I explained to him that his son belonged 
 to our regiment, he grasped me, and began hugging 
 me, and crying and calling me " his own dear 
 Matt." 
 
 When I could get out of his clutches, I explained 
 that I was not Matt, but that Matt had been miss- 
 ing ever since the battle of Shiloh, and was sup- 
 posed to have been taken prisoner. 
 
 " Sure," said Ryan, " if I had known that he 
 was in these lines a prisoner, I'd a got to you with 
 him ! " 
 
 Michael Ryan proved to be an odd character, 
 with one glaring fault : when in liquor he was 
 likely to do some extravagant thing, which in his 
 sober moments he was, or at least ought to have 
 been, sorry for. 
 
 He explained that he had started for Minnesota, 
 but on arriving at the Mississippi River, he had 
 fallen in with some "foine byes," who had induced 
 
206 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 him to go down to New Orleans, instead of going 
 up to St. Paul ; that he had got out of money, 
 and had postponed his visit to his wife and boy 
 from time to time. 
 
 We advised Ryan to take transportation up the 
 river, and go home to his wife. 
 
 He hesitated, and then said, " I'll find me son 
 Matt first." 
 
 " What will you do for a living, meanwhile ? " 
 
 "Well, sor, to tell you the truth, for I'm an 
 honest man, and I'll not decave you, I loike the 
 grub here, and I'll stay in this regiment until me 
 son Matt comes back." And thus it was that this 
 man who called himself Michael Ryan enlisted in 
 our regiment. 
 
IN CAMP NEAR MEMPHIS. 207 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN CAJNIP KEAE, MEJVEPHIS. 
 
 Our brigade, now attached to the Fifteenth 
 Army Corps, commanded by General Tecumseh 
 Sherman, was in camp on the line of railroad near 
 Memphis, Tennessee. Arras were stacked in the 
 company streets, and sentinels were seen on posts 
 around the camp. Although it was the last of 
 October, it was still uncomfortably warm, and 
 those boys not on guard duty were trying to keep 
 cool lying off under their tents or extemporized 
 shelters contrived from branches of trees or by 
 uniting several tents. 
 
 Some of us were writing letters, some were 
 sleeping, others playing cards, smoking, or telling 
 stories of the campaign. 
 
 Soon the attitude of the camp changed from 
 that of quiet to one of bustling excitement. 
 The mail had come. Even Peter aroused himself 
 from a recumbent attitude, saying, " Here come 
 letters." 
 
 Had our friends at home known how disappointed 
 their boys in the field were when a mail did not 
 
208 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 bring a letter from home, they would have written 
 oftener. This time I liad two or three letters from 
 home — one from my father, which had been long 
 delayed by mis-direction, while Michael Ryan had 
 one from Mrs. Ryan. 
 
 By the delayed letter I now first learned of the 
 Indian outbreak and massacre, which occurred in 
 Minnesota that fall, from which, however, our 
 settlement had escaped. My father wrote that a 
 little Indian girl had come across the prairie bring- 
 ing from a friendly Indian a warning message 
 which had enabled the settlers to send away 
 the women and children, and arm those who 
 had gathered at the village for defence. The 
 Indians, for some reason, however, did not molest 
 them. 
 
 He expressed his disappointment that Michael 
 Ryan could not have come home to his family, 
 instead of enlisting, and also spoke of the grief 
 felt by Mrs. Ryan that Matt had not been heard 
 from. The most startling part of the letter was 
 that parties had jumped a part of Matt's and 
 Peter's claims, and were intending to secure, with 
 false evidence and perjured affidavits, the title 
 to the land. I remembered that at one time, 
 when settlers had ploughed and planted some of 
 the same land. Matt and Peter had declared that 
 there was land enough, and they would not inter- 
 fere with the operation. My father expressed the 
 wish that Peter might come home if occasion 
 
" • The murLliering brutes,' interjected Micli;iel Tiyan, between puffs 
 of his pipe." — Page 209. 
 
IN CAMP NEAR MEMPHIS. 209 
 
 should offer, and also Matt, if he should return to 
 our lines. 
 
 I read the letter to Peter, who replied with his 
 usual stoical indifference regarding such small 
 matters as land. Had it been a question of a gun 
 or a horse, he would have been more alarmed and 
 not so indifferent. 
 
 " Don't you understand, Peter," I said, "they're 
 stealing your farm ? " 
 
 "The murthering brutes," interjected Michael 
 Ryan, between puffs of his pipe, and still looking 
 at his letter as if he'd like to get acquainted, if it 
 was all the same to the letter. 
 
 " Land 'nuff ; all the sky to breathe," said Peter, 
 with his head erect, and inhaling the air. 
 
 " The fact is, Peter," I said, " I believe you 
 would be glad if you never saw that farm again." 
 
 "What matter? Land 'nuff, dig grave in." 
 
 I saw it was of no use to try to make Peter 
 exhibit a lively interest in land, or, rather, in 
 ownership. He had within him a savage instinct 
 that the land was made for man only when he 
 could plant it and use it, and could never sympa- 
 thize with simply a paper title to it. "Was it in- 
 stinct, or was it the natural feeling of primitive 
 man ? 
 
 Michael Ryan had meanwhile finished his pipe, 
 and was holding his letter by one corner, with his 
 arm extended and resting on his knee. Glancing 
 at him, I thought that although perhaps he could 
 
210 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 not read writing, he was not willing to admit it. 
 - What is it, Mike ? " 1 said. 
 
 " Look this letter over, and see what you might 
 make out o' the bit o' writing." 
 
 I glanced at it, and- saw that it was dated two 
 weeks later than my own letter, and on reading it 
 I gave such a whoop of surprise and delight, that 
 Peter put his hand on my shoulder and gravely 
 looked me in the face. 
 
 " Matt has written horne ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 Michael Ryan, his face intense with interest, 
 now bent toward me as I read that letters had 
 been received from the Confederate lines, saying 
 that Matt had been wounded and captured by the 
 enemy at Shiloh, and but for the interference of 
 Lieutenant Preston (now General Preston of the 
 Confederate army), he would have lost his arm by 
 amputation. He expected to be paroled, but some 
 trouble between the authorities had prevented. The 
 letter also mentioned his writing to me, and gave 
 the pleasant information that he expected to be 
 paroled soon. 
 
 Soon through the whole camp was heard the hum 
 of voices. " Get ready for dress parade ! " said the 
 captain, coming down through the company street ; 
 and then turning to me, '' Orderly, there's to be 
 inspection to-morrow morning." 
 
 We at once began brightening our brasses and 
 buttons, and arranging our clothes in our knap- 
 sacks, so that the clean ones should come on the 
 
IN CAMP NEAR MEMPHIS. 211 
 
 top ; scouring our bayonets and muskets with em- 
 ery paper; blacking our shoes and belts, and, as 
 Corporal Sam Ryder said, "getting into a sweat 
 generally." 
 
 The next day at inspection the preliminary order 
 had just been given, " Guides Posts ! Rear open 
 order ! March ! " and the inspecting officer had 
 begun poking around in our knapsacks, when dark 
 clouds overspread the sky and it began to sprinkle, 
 wetting the clothing in the open knapsacks. At 
 this Peter deliberately left tlie ranks and shut the 
 flap of his knapsack, and then gravely resumed his 
 place in line. 
 
 To most of my readers this would look like a 
 very common-sense proceeding ; but common sense 
 and military exactions are often in conflict, as any 
 one having experience can testify, and although 
 Peter was in many respects the best soldier and 
 non-commissioned officer in the regiment, he had 
 not learned to subordinate his common sense to 
 military exactions. 
 
 There was a smile on many a face among those 
 who knew his peculiarities, yet when directly after 
 inspection he was put under arrest, the boys who 
 liked the courageous half-breed could not find any 
 but big explosive words such as are often heard in 
 war times, but which are as improper in ordinary 
 life (or at any other time) as would be the explo- 
 sion of shell in a village street, or of muskets in a 
 parlor. 
 
212 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Yet, as this is a truthful chronicle of life in the 
 field, I must confess that crisp words, hot and sul- 
 phurous under excitement of battle, and vexations 
 caused bj military restraint, were as common and 
 improper as to the army in Flanders. 
 
 I went to my rest that night feeling not very 
 good natured. In the morning when some of 
 our older fellows were remarking, Eh ! Oh ! Igh ! 
 while straightening the kinks of rheumatism out 
 of their joints, it made me wonder why in all the 
 accounts of the American Revolution, or of Napo- 
 leon's campaigns that I had read, there had been no 
 mention made of rheumatism. We read of our 
 heroes going barefooted at Valley Forge, and of 
 their being hungry, but not a word about rheuma- 
 tism or neuralgia. History is silent on this sub- 
 ject. 
 
 There is also a familiar enemy that invades a 
 soldier's traps and clothes and that makes him 
 clinch his teeth in rage more frequently than does 
 the enemy in front of him ; that has no place in 
 history, although persistently and obnoxiously pres- 
 ent in all our campaigns under Sherman in the 
 West, except with tenderfoot regiments, and they 
 were soon introduced. 
 
 The veterans will understand, when they read 
 this book, if I do not enter into particulars. 
 
 Taking it all in all, that Monday morning in 
 camp was gloomy, but it seemed to effect Peter 
 less than it did the explosive Sam Ryder. 
 
IN CAMP NEAR MEMPHIS. 213 
 
 " What's use to make fuss ? breathe and eat 
 same under 'rest as 'fore," said Peter phicidly. 
 
 Still, on that particular morning our older fel- 
 lows were not in good humor, and were growling 
 with a persistency common to soldiers, when we 
 were aroused by an incident that brightened up the 
 camp as though the sun had come out from behind 
 the drizzling clouds. 
 
 It was while INIichael Ryan was groaning with 
 the misery in his back and legs that Corporal Sam 
 Ryder stuck his head into our tent, saying, " Here 
 they are. Matt ! " 
 
 Rheumatism, and chills and fevers, the last of 
 which I had had a touch of that morning, disap- 
 peared as if by magic. Michael forgot his pipe 
 and rheumatism and began dancing around while 
 I was hugging Matt, and Peter was shaking one 
 hand and Sam Ryder the other. 
 
 When Matt saw Michael dancing and whooping 
 like a wild Indian, he said, " What lunatic asylum 
 is this old fellow from? " 
 
 " It's a lunatic you are yourself not to know 
 your own father ! " responded Michael, working 
 convulsively to get hold of Matt. 
 
 Although Michael Ryan exhibited excitement, 
 there was yet something in his face or manner 
 which I could not understand. 
 
 Finally, when Matt comprehended that the 
 " man " claimed to be his own long-lost father, 
 he greeted him very heartily, but still with an 
 
214 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 occasional doubting glance from under his brows, 
 as if he was not quite satisfied with his new 
 relative. 
 
 " See here," said Matt ; " let me have a conver- 
 sation with me father alone. I want to ask him 
 some questions." 
 
 Was it possible that Matt was not satisfied with 
 his identity, and thought this man was merely mas- 
 querading as his father ? 
 
 When Matt finally came out of the tent from 
 this conference, he said, " Well, Tom, it surely 
 must be me old man ; but for the life of me I can't 
 remember him as me father. It seems to me that 
 me father was a different looking man ; but it must 
 be, for he knows all about my mother and myself, 
 and seems fond of me too." 
 
 We were all glad to see Matt; and not least 
 among these was the colonel, formerly the captain 
 of our company. Colonel Archer having been pro- 
 moted to be commander of the brigade. 
 
 During the day Matt told me how he had been 
 wounded and captured, and that he had even 
 been carried to the Confederate amputating-table ; 
 but as the surgeon was about to remove his arm 
 he objected, as the bone was only slightly shattered. 
 A Confederate ofiicer who was slightly wounded 
 in the hand was standing near, and Matt recog- 
 nized him as Lieutenant Preston. 
 
 Matt told him who he was, and Preston inter- 
 posed with the surgeon and asked liim to save the 
 
IN CAMP NEAR Memphis. 215 
 
 arm if possible, and he afterwards liad Matt put 
 under tlie charge of his own brigade surgeon 
 (for he was now a general of a brigade), and had 
 treated him in the same friendly manner that 
 he had showed towards him at our home. 
 
 Matt said he inquired very particularly about 
 me and my family, and he had given him a 
 letter for my sister, which he had mailed at 
 Memphis before coming to camp. 
 
 " It seems queer to be fighting a man with whom 
 one feels so friendly," said Matt. " But there was 
 one thing we could not talk about without 
 getting excited, and that was the Union and 
 slavery. He didn't seem to have any sinse left 
 on those subjects. These Southerners actually 
 seem to think that their States are bigger than 
 the national government, and that slavery is better 
 than freedom. " 
 
 The next day was hot and fair. Marching 
 orders came to the brigade, and soon our knap- 
 sacks were packed and we were moving towards 
 Memphis. The long lines of blue, glistening with 
 equipments, and burnished muskets flashing in 
 the sun, marched with cadenced step from its old 
 camping-place, and then broke into route step 
 (with the swinging lope of veterans), filling the 
 road to Memphis. 
 
 It was rather a bitter pill for us to swallow 
 when, after dress parade the afternoon after our 
 arrival at Memphis, an order was read reducing 
 
216 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Peter to the ranks for insubordination and conduct 
 prejudicial to the military service. Peter himself 
 exhibited no anger, but merely said, " Rather 
 keep dry than be sergeant," and fell into the 
 duty of a private in line with so much good will 
 that all the officers and men who knew him 
 respected the quiet, uncomplaining fellow. With 
 Peter it was not assumed. He simply would as 
 soon be a private as a general : he was not proud 
 or ambitious in that way ; but if a man had pro- 
 claimed him a coward or a thief, Peter would have 
 been in such a rage that no man could have con- 
 trolled him. 
 
 We were soon ordered on board of steamers for 
 active duty somewhere. 
 
 Here let me take up the thread of military 
 movements that my young readers may understand 
 the situation. 
 
 About the middle of July, General Halleck, 
 after distributing the magnificent army of one 
 hundred thousand men to different points and 
 directing Buell against Chattanooga, had been 
 called to Washington to assume command as 
 general-in-chief of all the armies in the field. 
 
 General Grant was given command of the dis- 
 trict of East Tennessee, and we even then thought 
 there was likely to be more fighting than was 
 healthy under that indomitable commander. 
 
 For a while after the fall of Corinth, we worked 
 on fortifications, and then. May 30, had been sent 
 
IN CAMP NEAR MEMPHIS. 217 
 
 near Memphis, where we were wlien tlie battle of 
 Iiika was fought on the 19th of August at a little 
 railroad town of that name, near Corinth, and also 
 when the Confederates under General Price, on 
 October 3d, attacked Rosecrans, who was holding 
 Corinth. 
 
 A more cautious general would, if put in Gen- 
 eral Grant's place with a force but little superior 
 to his enemy, have thought it sufficient to guard 
 his territory against capture. But General Grant 
 had that faith in success and belief in the justice 
 of his cause that made him aggressive. 
 
 After the battle fought by Rosecrans for the 
 protection of Memphis, the rebel defeat was so 
 complete that he no longer feared for the safety of 
 the territory within his department, and determined 
 at once on an offensive movement. 
 
 By moving against the enemy and driving them 
 before him, he reasoned that his own lines, which 
 must otherwise be guarded, would almost take care 
 of themselves by the fear inspired that some more 
 vital point might be lost. 
 
 The result of this reasoning was the campaign 
 against Vicksburg. This was an important posi- 
 tion to the Confederates, as it occupied the first 
 high land near the river below Memphis. It was 
 also the only point which connected the territory 
 of the Confederacy divided by the Mississippi, and 
 from it a railroad ran East, connecting with other 
 roads leading to all points in the Southern States, 
 
218 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 All the other points held on the Mississippi be- 
 low were simply dependencies, sure to fall with 
 the capture of Vicksburg. 
 
CAMPAIGNING AGAINST VICKSBURG. 219 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 CAMPAIGNING AGAINST VICKSBURG. 
 
 The campaign against Vicksburg may be said 
 to have begun on the 24th of December, 1862, 
 when, with other organizations of the Fifteenth 
 Army Corps, we embarked on transports at Mem- 
 phis, and under the protection of a formidable 
 flotilla of gunboats steamed down the Mississijjpi 
 River, and then, turning in an easterly direction, 
 went up the Yazoo River some twelve miles. 
 
 Here on the swampy bottoms, at the foot of 
 the Walnut Hills, we disembarked, and moving 
 through the cane-brakes and jungles encountered 
 the enemy's skirmishers. 
 
 They fled before us like flocks of sheep, and we 
 were at first much elated, anticipating an easy 
 victory. But this elation was not of long dura- 
 tion ; for, on perceiving their strong position, 
 bolder hearts than ours would have desponded 
 at the prospect. 
 
 Here were muddy bayous passable in one direc- 
 tion only by narrow levees, and in another by a 
 sand-bar, where the enemy could shoot down our 
 men as fast as they set foot on it. 
 
220 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 " Look at the rebs behind the levees ! Gosh ! 
 but they've got a soft thing of iti " exclaimed Sam 
 Ryder. 
 
 " Sure enough ; those levees which they built 
 to keep the Mississippi out of their cornfields are 
 first-rate breastworks to keep us out too," said 
 Matt, viewing the situation with unfeigned disgust. 
 
 Here let me explain that these levees varied in 
 height from four to eighteen feet, and had been 
 built to protect the country against high water. 
 They had exterior angles, like fortifications, and 
 were admirably adapted to repel an invading army, 
 as well as the waters of the Mississippi. 
 
 Nor was this anything more than a preliminary 
 obstacle ; for, above tlie wide miry bayous, there 
 were rifle-pits and batteries, while an abrupt range 
 of hills beyond was crowned with cannon. The 
 rough sides of the hills, furrowed with gullies, 
 were further protected by rifle-pits and artillery 
 at every accessible point. In view of all these 
 impediments, one of our Western boys was justi- 
 fied in saying, " See here, fellers, this is a lay-out 
 fur a lickin' ! " 
 
 Even Peter, ordinarily patient and unflinching 
 in the face of obstacles, shook his head, saying, 
 " Bad place for fight." 
 
 " Yes, the idea of a surprise ! " said Sam Ryder. 
 " Look at their telegraph stations up there on the 
 hills ! We can't make a move but them plaguey 
 fellers will tell on us ! " 
 
CAMPAIGNING AGAINST VICKSBURG. 221 
 
 It was evident that they were at that very 
 moment eng.tged in telegraphing every movement 
 of our gunboats and troops. We also soon dis- 
 covered tliat they had still another advantage in 
 the fact that while every movement of our troops 
 was visible to them, they could move their own 
 men with perfect security and secrecy ; for where 
 the levees were continuous, as they Avere along 
 the Mississippi and the bayous fiom Vicksburg to 
 Haynes Bluff, a road behind them enabled the 
 enemy to move from point to point with perfect 
 security, as if by a covered \\ixj. 
 
 Their right was a series of batteries and forts 
 seven miles above us on the Yazoo River; while 
 on their left were the hills, two hundred feet high, 
 on which Vicksburg was situated. Tlie enemy had 
 improved all these naturally strong' defensive posi- 
 tions with consummate skill. 
 
 During the first two days we were engaged in 
 reconnoitring ; and all this time we could hear 
 railroad trains coming in and going out of Vicks- 
 burg, showing that they were continually receiv- 
 ing re-enforcements, and that every hour's delay 
 made our task the harder. 
 
 On the 29th of December, Sherman ordered an 
 assault. 
 
 Blair's brigade of Steele's division went in on 
 the left, and DeCourcey's brigade of Morgan's 
 division on the right. 
 
 Over tangled abatti^ of cotton-wood, through the 
 
222 rOM CLIFTON. 
 
 quicksands, mud, and freezing waters of the bayou, 
 while the enemy rained on them ^eath-dealing 
 missiles, these brave men advanced with desperate 
 heroism, piercing two lines of the enemy's rifle- 
 pits, and were brought to a halt at last only at 
 their main earthworks. 
 
 Our regiment, which was sent to reconnoitre the 
 woods, had crossed the bayou on a log, and had 
 skirmished with the enemy, driving him across the 
 larger bayou, when a heavy discharge of musketry 
 drove us back, killing one man and wounding 
 several. A shot here grazed my right fore-arm, 
 making a painful though not dangerous wound. 
 It was the first scratch I had received during my 
 military service, and gave me trouble later, from not 
 being properly cared for. 
 
 We were soon ordered to fall back to our old 
 positions. I have since learned that General Sher- 
 man meditated another attack that night in con- 
 junction with the gunboats ; but on account of 
 the moonlight, which would make us visible to the 
 enemy, the idea was abandoned. 
 
 That night a disagreeable, chilly rain came on. 
 The next day the weather cleared up and was 
 warm, but the prospect of success looked discour- 
 aging to us. 
 
 " If we have two or three days' rain here, we'd 
 have all we'd want to do to swim away ! " growled 
 Jim Fowler, one of our Western men. 
 
CAMPAIGNING AGAINST VICKSBURG. 223 
 
 " Sho, now," said Sam Ryder incredulously, "you 
 think you're talking to horse-marines perhaps." 
 
 " Horse-marines, or mud-marines," said Jim. 
 "I'll 'low I've seen the Mississippi chin deep 
 in such places as this, in less than three days of 
 rain." 
 
 Peter, who had examined the trees in the low 
 timbered ground where we had bivouacked, soon 
 corroborated the statement of Jim Fowler by point- 
 ing to the water-stains on the trees five and six 
 feet above our heads, saying, " Big rain, water 
 'way up there ! " 
 
 The next day, in full sight of the enemy, our 
 troops re-embarked, steamed down the Yazoo River, 
 and " tied up," as our Western boys called it, at 
 Milliken's Bend. 
 
 From this point our flotilla of transports, accom- 
 panied by gunboats, once more steamed up, and in 
 a few hours were going up the Arkansas River, to 
 attack the enemy at Arkansas Post. 
 
 Here the enemj' was found in a bastioned fort, 
 placed in a strong position at a bend commanding 
 the river and surrounded with deep ditches. A 
 long line of intrenchments protected his flanks. 
 
 Here we attacked by land and water, compelling 
 the surrender of the fort, with five thousand men 
 and all their munitions of war. The services per- 
 formed by our regiment here were comparatively 
 light, although not without danger. 
 
 An incident, however, occurred which concerns 
 
224 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 one of our characters. We had been sent forward 
 and deployed nearly east of Fort Hiiidman. The 
 ground in our front and on our flank was wooded, 
 and slightly ascending towards the fort. Here we 
 Avere ordered forward to draw the enemy's fire. 
 With this purpose we threw out skirmishers, and 
 advanced fifty yards, firing as we advanced. 
 
 The enemy getting good range of our line, re- 
 plied with shot and shell, and compelled us to fall 
 back. As we were doing this a battery of ten- 
 pound Napoleon guns came galloping up and went 
 into position near us, then w7m-7'-r-r chug hang ! came 
 a shell, striking a limber-chest, exploding, killing 
 and wounding most of the men on the gun. 
 
 At a word from our captain. Matt sprang forward, 
 and calling to Peter, with other of our men, he be- 
 gan to serve the gun so effectually that the enemy 
 were driven from their pieces at one part of the 
 fort. 
 
 The next day at noon we formed the reserve 
 that followed three other regiments in the storming 
 of the enemy's works. After an obstinate fight 
 of nearly three hours we captured the works with a 
 loss of only five men of our company killed and 
 wounded. 
 
 Michael Ryan during the charge had left the 
 ranks, and yelling like mad, rushed forward, and 
 was one of the first men on the parapet at Fort 
 Hindman. He captured the colors of a Tennessee 
 regiment, and afterward said, " Byes, I tuck the 
 
CAMPAIGNING AGAINST VICKSBURG. 225 
 
 fort all mesilf, barriii' I was supported by a few 
 regiments." 
 
 The captain shook his head, saying, " An insub- 
 ordinate rascal ! " 
 
 After this we returned to Milliken's Bend on 
 the transports, and freely criticised the campaign. 
 
 This attack on Vicksburg had developed the 
 difficulty of capturing the place. 
 
 It stood upon an almost inaccessible plateau, 
 two hundred feet above the river; it was sur- 
 rounded by formidable artificial and natural de- 
 fences, rendered almost impregnable by a vast 
 network of bayous and marshes which covered 
 the entire space between us and Vicksburg, north 
 and south, and from the Yazoo to the Mississippi, 
 east and west. Our indomitable commander had 
 at last learned that a direct attack anywhere 
 between Harris Bluff and Warrentown was folly, 
 and he showed no disposition thereafter to repeat 
 the experiment. 
 
 The next effort of the army was directed to 
 turning Vicksburg from the south side. 
 
 If my readers will look at a map of this region 
 they will find that the west bank of the crooked 
 Mississippi River from Milliken's Bend, above 
 Vicksburg, to Carthage below, resembles in out- 
 line the closed fist of the right hand with the palm 
 upward and the thumb extended. 
 
 The thumb represents tlie tongue of land on the 
 Louisiana side, lying in a loop of the river com- 
 
226 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 manded by Vicksburg ; while the city and the 
 batteries are opposite the nail of the thumb. 
 
 Grant first endeavored to tuin these batteries, 
 in order to get our transports and gunboats safely 
 below them. His plan was to cut a canal at the 
 first joint of the thumb, run the Vicksburg batter- 
 ies with his transports, and with a naval force 
 attack it from the south. 
 
 'The Mississippi River from Milliken's Bend to 
 New Carthage makes a tortuous course, forming 
 peninsulas and horseshoe bends innumerable ; and 
 these bends are cut up by bayous, and the lowland 
 is at times overflowed by the river. Among these 
 twists in the river is one that forms the long 
 tongue of land opposite Vicksburg. 
 
 At first, following Grant's original plan, an at- 
 tempt was made to cut a canal across this tongue 
 through which to pass our naval forces and trans- 
 ports without exposing them to the fire of the 
 enemy. After months of wearisome work this was 
 abandoned on the 27th of March, and another plan 
 for a campaign against Vicksburg was adopted, 
 which proved as fruitful as it was glorious to our 
 arms, and of which I shall speak in the next chapter.' 
 
 Our corps was set at this task, which kept us at 
 work months, and until, as Sam Ryder said, the 
 shakes caused by the fever and ague which our 
 men got here was the only thing which up to 
 this time had made Vicksburg tremble. 
 
 When the waters of the river were let into our 
 
CAMPAIGNING AGAINST VICKSBURG. 227 
 
 big ditch, it was found that the current was at 
 right angles with it, and that its lower end was 
 easily commanded by the bluffs on the Mississippi 
 side. 
 
 After two months' hard labor the waters did not 
 run, and our efforts proved a blank failure. 
 
 The high waters of the Mississippi having sub- 
 sided, our plucky commander, in April, 1863, after 
 many failures in other directions, which I shall 
 not detail, adopted the bold plan of marching his 
 army across from Milliken's Bend (represented 
 by the third knuckle of the upturned hand) to 
 Carthage (at the root of the thumb near the hand). 
 The gunboats and transports were to run the 
 Vicksburg batteries in the niglit, and join our land 
 forces at Grand Gulf, there to assist in operating 
 against Vicksburg from the eastern side of the 
 river. 
 
 When, however, New Carthage had been reached 
 by the first men who marched across to this point, 
 it was found that a break in the bayou here had 
 flooded the country, and had made an island of 
 that place. This necessitated a long march to 
 Hard Times below Perkins's Plantation. 
 
 The gunboats failing in an attack on Grand 
 Gulf, next ran these batteries in the night, and, 
 with the transports, assisted in ferrying the army 
 across the Mississippi. 
 
 General Grant's first step in working out his 
 purpose was to capture Grand Gulf for a base of 
 supplies. 
 
228 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Bruiusburg, below Grand Gulf, on the east side 
 oi the Mississippi (the point where General Grant's 
 forces were finally landed April 30), was two miles 
 from the high land which furnished a solid base 
 for military operations. 
 
 To prevent his reaching this safe base, the 
 enemy came out from their works to intercept and 
 attack him. 
 
 Port Gibson was the nearest point to the bridges 
 by which they could do this, across the bayou 
 Pirrie, a navigable stream just above their landing- 
 place. 
 
 Here McClernand's corps and a portion of 
 McPherson's were thrown forward, and, attacking 
 the Confederates, defeated them and captured 
 Port Gibson. The position of the enemy was 
 turned by this defeat; they therefore abandoned 
 Grand Gulf, burned the bridges across the bayou, 
 and were soon found to be covering a retreat on 
 Vicksburg. 
 
 Our corps, which at this time had not begun its 
 march to Bruiusburg, had been instructed to make 
 a feint, by use of the transports and gunboats at 
 Haynes Bluff, in order to detain as many of the 
 enemy around Vicksburg as possible, as well as to 
 deceive them regarding Grant's real purpose. 
 
 We performed this work satisfactorily, and were 
 soon marching to join Grant at Bruiusburg. 
 
 Our division, however, then under command of 
 General Frank P. Blair, Jr., was left behind to 
 
CAMPAIGNING AGAINST VICKSBURG. 229 
 
 garrison Milliken's Bend, until relieved by troops 
 from Memphis ; the other division joined General 
 Grant at Grand Gulf shortly after its fall and 
 several days before our arrival. 
 
 When our division began its march of sixty- 
 three miles along the bayous to Hard Times, the 
 roads, which for some time had been intolerable, 
 were in fairly good condition. 
 
 One afternoon, after a long march, we had halted 
 with our train at a magnificent plantation near 
 the lower end of Lake Vidal near Perkins's, en route 
 for Hard Times, to join in that adventure of arms, 
 the glorious and final campaign against Vicksburg. 
 
 The fine plantations along the bayous, which had 
 been abandoned by their owners, were delightful 
 halting-places. Corn for the horses was found in 
 the barns, and the sprouting grain afforded them 
 forage. 
 
 On this occasion I called the roll, and re- 
 ported to the captain for the second time during 
 the week, " Private Michael Ryan, absent without 
 leave." The captain said nothing, but I thought 
 I saw something in his face that did not promise 
 pleasant things for Private Ryan. 
 
 And now let me confess that Ryan was a great 
 disappointment to Matt. I had before our march 
 received promotion as first sergeant of Company 
 " B," which promotion by right belonged to Matt, 
 for he was a better drilled man and a better soldier 
 than I was. 
 
S30 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 When I said to our captain that Sergeant 
 Matthew Ryan deserved this promotion rather 
 than myself, the captain replied, " Ah, yes ; but 
 there are other considerations, Sergeant Clifton. 
 I have no prejudice. Ryan has been an excellent 
 soldier, none better. He has readiness to act at 
 the right moment and courage equal to any one, 
 but " — 
 
 " The way he served that battery when the chief 
 of the piece was killed, captain. You said, when 
 the artillery officer complimented him, that 
 Matthew Ryan was a born soldier." 
 
 "Yes," said the captain, "but not a born officer. 
 The first sergeant of a company is in the line of 
 promotion as a second lieutenant." 
 
 I now understood the captain's disinclination to 
 promote Matt ; for the truth must be told that 
 Private Ryan was at times both drunken and in- 
 subordinate, and it was felt by the officers that it 
 would not be agreeable for them to associate on 
 familiar terms with one whose father was liable to 
 be under arrest or to be punished, possibly shot, 
 for absenting himself without authority while be- 
 fore the enemy. 
 
 Michael Ryan had shown himself to be possessed 
 of reckless courage, and this was the only quality 
 he seemed to have in common with Matt. He also 
 had a quaint and ready wit and humor which had 
 enabled him to get through some hard spots with- 
 out punishment. There was about Michael, how- 
 
CAMPAIGNING AGAINST VICKSBURG. 231 
 
 ever, an indescribable something, which, as Sam 
 Ryder said, made you think he was "playing it," 
 and that his sentiments as expressed, as well as his 
 acts, were for eJEfect. On this occasion, before dark- 
 ness set in we heard the sharp click of oars from 
 the lake ; and a boat soon was seen near the 
 plantation landing. 
 
 Michael Ryan sprang from it upon the levee, 
 loaded down with chickens and ducks. He coolly 
 presented the colonel and captain each with a pair, 
 saying, " Now, captain dear, it's starvin' ye'd be if I 
 didn't attend to yer feed." 
 
 It is very seldom that a soldier, officer or pri- 
 vate, on the march, can resist persuasions of this 
 kind, and so Private Ryan escaped once more with 
 only a sharp reprimand. 
 
 " There's a rod in pickle for him yet," said Sam 
 Ryder; "the captain wanted the ducks and 
 chickens, but he'll not forget Michael, for all 
 that." 
 
 Michael went from bad to worse, to Matt's sor- 
 row and disgust ; and although he escaped pun- 
 ishment for a time, he was finally brought to 
 judgment, though not punishment, as will appear 
 in the progress of this narrative. 
 
 We arrived at last at Hard Times with our train, 
 and were slowly ferried over to Grand Gulf, where 
 we will once more take breath and look over the 
 situation of affairs on our arrival. 
 
232 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE GREAT ADVENTURE OF ARMS. 
 
 It was May 7 when we arrived at Grand Gulf, 
 and with a train of two hundred wagons set out 
 to join our comrades in that great adventure of 
 arms, the final campaign against Vicksburg. 
 
 The boldness, originality, and daring of Grant's 
 plans will be seen when we consider that the army 
 he landed at Bruinsburg with which to operate 
 against the enemy on the 30th of April numbered 
 but a little over thirty thousand men. With this 
 army he began a campaign over a difficult country, 
 easy of defence, against an enemy of sixty thou- 
 sand, occupying strong defensive positions, at 
 Grand Gulf, Jackson, Vicksburg, and Haynes BlufP. 
 
 It is an elementary maxim of ordinary war that 
 great armies operating in an enemy's country 
 should keep open a base of supplies, with safe 
 and protected communications thereto, from which 
 to receive food and ammunition. But when landed 
 at Bruinsburg, the Union army had a great river 
 and its enemy at Vicksburg between it and its 
 base of supplies. 
 
 General Grant had originally planned to make a 
 
THE GREAT ADVENTURE OF ARMS. 233 
 
 new base at Grand Gulf and there await the com- 
 ing of General Banks's force from Port Hudson. 
 He soon resolved that time was of more impor- 
 tance than these re-enforcements, and that to be 
 successful he must fight and b^at tlie enemy in 
 detail before they had time to fortify or concentrate 
 to resist his advance. 
 
 To assist in the general purposes of this cam- 
 paign, and to distract and hinder the enemy, on 
 the 17th of April Colonel Grierson had been sent 
 on a cavalry raid through the interior of Missis- 
 sippi, and had aided powerfully in preventing the 
 early concentration of re-enforcements against Gen- 
 eral Grant's army by breaking the enemy's lines of 
 communication. 
 
 Grant's army had started out while its trains 
 were still west of the Mississippi ; and his men had 
 less than an average of three days' rations in their 
 haversacks, and hence depended largely on the 
 country for their food. 
 
 There were no trains for ammunition, and so 
 these had to be extemporized from the teams found 
 in the country through which they were operat- 
 ing. 
 
 On the 13th of May, McPherson, commanding 
 the Seventeenth Army Corps, had fought and 
 defeated the enemy near Raymond. The capture 
 of this place gave us control of a system of roads 
 branching out in every direction. Up to this time 
 the army had hugged the Big Black River (which 
 
284 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 runs nearly parallel to the Mississippi), guarding 
 all its ferries to prevent the enemy from getting in 
 our rear and intercepting our communications with 
 Grand Gulf. 
 
 Genei'al Grant, discovering that to guard these 
 communications might cost him so much in time 
 and men as to defeat his main purpose, at once 
 boldly decided to have no communication for the 
 enemy to intercept; he therefore cut loose and 
 turned his whole column towards Jackson. 
 
 In the rain and mud of the 13th and 14th, Sher- 
 man and McPherson marched their men to the 
 outer defences of the state capital, attacking at 
 once and capturing the place. 
 
 Our division had reached Grand Gulf on the 
 7th of May, and at once began its march to rejoin 
 our commander of the Fifteenth Army Corps. 
 The first three miles out the roads were uphill and 
 rough, but they improved as we advanced. Eight 
 miles out we took the road that forked to the right. 
 Some uneasiness was felt for fear the enemy might 
 attack our flank. The roads were dusty, the wea- 
 ther in the middle of the day hot, but the morn- 
 ings and evenings were comfortably cool, and 
 water was very scarce except such as fell from the 
 sky. 
 
 The temptation to straggle was under such cir- 
 cumstances very great, especially among those who 
 had not had. as Sam Ryder sarcastically expressed 
 it, " all independent ideas drilled out of them." 
 
THE GREAT ADVENTURE OF ARMS. 285 
 
 ]\Iost of the roads ran along the tops of ridges, 
 and the country between them was covered with 
 an impenetrable thicket, which, though it presented 
 some disagreeable possibilities, liad the compensat- 
 ing advantage of preventing the eneiu}- from at- 
 tacking our flank. 
 
 ■The same day that Sherman and McPherson 
 liad captured Jackson, we readied New Auburn, 
 where we joined forces with McClernand's corps, 
 \\\i\\ our trains loaded with rations for the army. 
 These were the only supplies, other than those 
 gathered from the country and carried in haver- 
 sacks, received by the army during the campaign. 
 
 On our way to join our corps we naturally 
 struck the left wing of the army ; for after the 
 fall of Jackson the army faced west, thus bringing 
 Sherman's corps on the extreme right. 
 
 The fall of Jackson had not only cut the rebel 
 line, but had separated Johnston from Pemberton, 
 and had also cut the railroad communication 
 between Vicksburg and the territory cast of the 
 Mississippi. 
 
 When we came up with the trains of McCler- 
 nand's corps they presented a grotesque and 
 motley spectacle. 
 
 The vehicles consisted of all kinds of convey- 
 ances from an ordinary farm wagon to an aristo- 
 cratic barouche. Some had only a pair of wheels 
 on which was fastened a large box of boaids. The 
 animals consisted of horses, mules, oxen, and some- 
 
236 rOM CLIFTON. 
 
 times cows, and were hitched to these vehicles by 
 straw collars, cotton and tarred ropes, or strips 
 of heavy cotton cloth, and in some instances by 
 plough harnesses, and occasionally by handsome 
 silver-plated ones. 
 
 To an aristocratic carriage piled high with 
 cartridges there would be hitched a pair or more 
 of grotesquely harnessed mules, while a handsome 
 harness would be seen upon mules drawing an 
 old farmer's wagon of antiquated device. 
 
 The provisions carried by the men were as 
 varied as their equipages. Some had hitched 
 behind the teams bleating sheep or cows, strug- 
 gling to get away, while across the shoulders of 
 the men, as well as on the backs of mules and other 
 animals of these trains, were seen ducks, geese, 
 hens, and chickens, some alive and others dressed 
 for the pot. 
 
 The soldiers seemed to enjoy the grotesqueness 
 of these trains, and would have enjoyed them much 
 more, no doubt, had they not been so hurried. 
 
 Matt declared tliat the army was like the locusts 
 of Egypt that my father had once preached about : 
 they devoured every green thing except the peo- 
 ple, who didn't always wait for us. 
 
 The thought of the poor people, pillaged be- 
 cause of the necessities of our campaign, where 
 our armies were mostly subsisting on the coun- 
 try, did not trouble me then so much as it did 
 afterwards. 
 
THE GREAT ADVENTURE OF ARMS. 237 
 
 One of the Thirteenth Army Corps, whom I 
 had met, said to me, " I tell 3^ou, business is hum- 
 ming in this country ! Every mill from a coffee- 
 mill to a grist-mill is a-grinding corn for army 
 johnny-cake." 
 
 " You've got enough to eat, I suppose? " I inter- 
 I'osfated. 
 
 " See here, suppose you give me a handful of 
 coffee for this chicken all ready for the pot," was 
 the reply of the Thirteenth Corps man. 
 
 I gave him the coffee, and thanked him for the 
 liberal exchange, at which he replied, " Stranger, 
 I'm ashamed to look a chicken or sheep in the 
 face, we've killed and eaten so many of 'um. I 
 never want to see a chicken asrain as lone as I 
 live. Hardtack and salt bacon's good enough fur 
 me. I ain't proud, I ain't, 'bout grub." 
 
 At Auburn some of the people, and among them 
 many women, came out to see the Yankee army. 
 One little girl said, '• Do you Yanks always go 
 around taking other people's fixin's to eat? " 
 
 The women were good-looking and not averse 
 to being seen by the Yankee soldiers. 
 
 '' Do you lay around on the ground at home ? " 
 asked a pretty, black-eyed miss curiously. 
 
 "No," said Matt, "and wouldn't here if we had 
 time to accept an invitation to visit you." 
 
 " What makes you tote around in such a 
 hurry ? " she asked. 
 
 " Got to gobble up Pemberton's army," ex- 
 
238 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 plained Matt, " if we can find out where they have 
 skedaddled to." 
 
 The people asked us many curious questions, 
 but did not generally use abusive language. 
 
 At New Auburn we had camped near a pond 
 of water, but after leaving there our men suffered 
 more than usual from the thirst which always 
 occurs among men on long marches. 
 
 After the 14th the roads were dusty and water 
 was very scarce. Yet in the circumstances in 
 which the army was placed, straggling was as 
 much a crime as treason, for this campaign (as I 
 heard a member of our corps say) was as much 
 a feat of legs as it was of arms. 
 
 Stringent orders had been given to all our men 
 not to leave the ranks except when detailed to 
 obtain rations or for other camp purposes. 
 
 On the 16th we were hastening forward to 
 Edwards Ferry, supporting Osterhaus of Mc- 
 Clernand's corps, and when halted at night I was 
 again obliged to report Private Michael Ryan as 
 absent without leave. 
 
 '' How long," asked the officer, " has he been 
 absent? " 
 
 " Seven hours, since noon," I replied. 
 
 " I distrust that man ; he will bear watching," 
 said the captain. " He enlisted too willingly. He 
 must be punished." 
 
 " He ought to be shot, " said the colonel, who 
 at that moment came up, and to whom the captain 
 told the circumstance. 
 
'-«Cv 
 
 " A volley of jeers and jokes saluted Michael and his picturesque 
 steed and its equipments." — Page 239. 
 
THE GREAT ADVENTURE OF ARMS. 239 
 
 " He behaved well at Chickasaw Bluff and at 
 Vieksburg, colonel," I said, saluting. 
 
 " He was the ' wild Irishman ' that was first on 
 the rebel parapet at Arkansas Post," said the cap- 
 tain. "He don't flinch in a fight. I'll say that 
 for him." 
 
 The colonel paused a moment and then said, 
 " If he answers at roll-call to-morrow morning, all 
 right; he'll get a good chance to stop a bullet 
 without our shooting him, before the campaign is 
 over. We can't spare fighting men now." 
 
 After sundown Michael made his appearance, 
 coming from the direction of where the rebel lines 
 were supposed to be. He rode into camp mounted 
 on the back of a cow, on which he had placed a 
 horse-saddle which he had fitted to the animal 
 with cotton pickings. Behind him was a goodly 
 array of chickens and a sheep, while balanced on 
 either side were two tin pails, one containing 
 water, the other apple-jack. 
 
 A volley of jeers and jokes saluted Michael and 
 his picturesque steed and its equipments. He 
 passed the water to Matt, saying, " Fill up yer 
 canteens, byes I " and after we had passed back 
 the empty pail he knelt down and began to milk 
 the cow. 
 
 " Where have you been, Mike ? " we inquired. 
 
 " Whist, now, yer make the cow kick I " he 
 replied evasively. 
 
 After the cow was partially milked he surren- 
 
240 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 dered her to some other aspirant for milk, and 
 advancing to the colonel's bivouac fire, saluted him 
 and said, — 
 
 " It's some milk for yer coffee I've brought, and 
 some apple-jack, sor ; " and then turning to the colo- 
 nel's black servant : " Don't stand there grinning 
 while yer master's waiting fer milk in his coffee ; " 
 and then pressing a pair of fat chickens on the colo- 
 nel's servant, he admonished him to see that they 
 were cooked well, for, said he, " they are the best I 
 could find in the country fer the colonel." Then 
 plunging his hand into his haversack he brought 
 out some eggs which he had carefully packed in cot- 
 ton, laid them down, and once more saluting, said, 
 " It's a noice supper I wish ye may have, sor ; and 
 long life to yer honor ! " and marched away as 
 sedately as if he had performed a duty instead of 
 having been guilty of a grievous breach of military 
 orders. 
 
 It has been said that a man's heart is reached 
 through his stomach ; and when we saw our captain 
 and colonel eating chicken at their bivouac fire 
 and drinking the apple-jack, we knew that Michael 
 Ryan had escaped punishment at least for that 
 time. 
 
 That night our company had broiled mutton for 
 supper, cooked by holding the chops over the fire 
 by our ramrods. 
 
 Poor Matt felt as though his father was a dis- 
 grace to him, although he did not express this 
 feelinff until Michael addressed him. 
 
THE GREAT ADVENTURE OF ARMS. 241 
 
 " And why do yer look so glum, Matt ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " Because of the trouble you are getting your- 
 self and me mto, father," replied Matt. 
 
 " And what wud the company do if nobody 
 picked up a bit of grub for 'em ? An' sure ain't 
 I always on the spot when there's foraging or 
 fighting? tell me that, sor, will yer, and not stand 
 there like a tinderfoot ! " 
 
 Sergeant Matt turned away without reply ; for 
 he had that old-fasliioned feeling that he must 
 respect his father, although there was nothing in 
 common between them. 
 
 Michael's temper and habitual insubordination 
 grated harshly on Matt's sensitive nature. Accus- 
 tomed as he was to associate with more refined 
 people, yet he could not fail as a son in his duty. 
 That night I awoke and found that he had not 
 been asleep. 
 
 " What's the matter, Matt? " I asked. 
 
 " It's father that troubles me ; he doesn't seem 
 at all like the father I remember as a child. But, 
 Tom, you must remonstrate with him, for his own 
 good, or he will be in trouble." 
 
 The next morning, while the men were getting 
 breakfast, I began the remonstrance in what I 
 thought a very gentle manner, telling Michael 
 how badly Matt felt. That he did not take my 
 remonstrance in good part was evident by his man- 
 ner ; and although he meide no reply he glowered 
 
242 TOM CTAFTON. 
 
 at me from under his straight shaggy brows ; 
 showed his under teeth shut over his upper ones 
 like a bull-dog ready to snap ; while his eyes had 
 in them an ugly phosphorescent glare still more 
 ominous. 
 
 What was there in Michael Ryan that made me 
 feel that he was not what he seemed ? 
 
 On the 16th we moved northwest on the route 
 to Bridgeport, and found ourselves confronted by 
 the enemy's right. We heard the deep roar of 
 artillery, and every moment expected the order to 
 attack. It is now known that McClernand's fail- 
 ure to aid in the battle of Champion Hill prevented 
 a most overwhelming defeat, if not the capture of 
 the enemy's forces on that day. 
 
 On the 16th we joined in the pursuit of Pem- 
 berton's army, which had fled beyond the Big 
 Black River, destroying the bridges behind them. 
 The other two divisions of the Fifteenth Corps under 
 Sherman, after destroying the public property at 
 Jackson, and the railroads near there, had made a 
 forced march f.om that place at noon on the 16th 
 and had halted at Bolton, twenty miles west, 
 and at noon on the 17th reached Bridgeport, 
 where we had already preceded them. We were 
 glad to be united once more with our corps, for 
 we seemed to gather but few laurels except when 
 marching under Sherman. 
 
 On the 17th of May, McClernand's corps, the 
 Thirteenth, followed closely by McPherson's (the 
 
THE GREAT ADVENTURE OF ARMS. 243 
 
 Seventeenth), pursued the demoralized enemy, 
 attacked and defeated them at the Big BLick River, 
 captured one thousand seven hundred and fifty- 
 one prisoners and eighteen pieces of light artillery, 
 with a loss on our side of thirty-nine killed and 
 two hundred and thirty-seven wounded and miss- 
 ing. • When we arrived we found a few men in 
 position on the west side of the river. A piece of 
 artillery was turned on them, and they surrendered 
 without firing a shot. 
 
 It was a picturesque sight, when after laying 
 a bridge on inflated rubber pontoons, fires were 
 kindled on the banks of the river and we crossed 
 by their light at night. 
 
 But little resistance was made at the Big Black, 
 for the demoralized enemy did not recover their 
 morale until they were under the protection of their 
 defences at Vicksburg. 
 
 On the 13th we saw General Grant riding 
 along the Vicksburg road inquiring for Sherman ; 
 his first anxiety, as it afterwards appeared, being 
 to secure for his army a base of supplies on the 
 Yazoo above the city. 
 
 By a happy coincidence our line of march led us 
 to the very point at the Walnut Hills which we 
 had attempted to wrest from the enemy the previ- 
 ous December in our attack at Chickasaw Bluff. 
 
 It was now only eighteen days since Grant 
 crossed the river at Bruinsburg. During this time 
 he fought the battle of Port Gibson, secured the 
 
244 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 possession of Grand Gulf and the east banks of 
 the Mississippi. The battles of Raymond and Jack- 
 son divided the enemy's forces into two parts ; 
 Champion Hill and Big Black River compelled 
 Pemberton to shut himself up in Vicksburg where 
 "we were to besiege him. 
 
 For eighteen days the Army of the Tennessee 
 had marched and subsisted mostly on an enemy's 
 country ; had defeated the enemy at Port Gib- 
 son on the 1st of May. Fourteen Mile Creek 
 on the 3d, Raymond on the 12th, Jackson on the 
 16th, Big Black River on the 17th, and on 
 the 18th had driven the enemy to his defences 
 at Vicksburg after having abandoned Harris 
 Bluff and Walnut Hill. The enemy had been 
 beaten in detail on their own ground with a 
 force smaller than their own, with a loss in killed 
 of six hundred and ninety-five of our men and three 
 thousand four hundred and twenty-five wounded, 
 many only slightly, and only two hundred and 
 fifty -nine captured and missing. 
 
 In rapid movements and vigor of pursuit this 
 campaign equals in audacity and skill any adven- 
 ture of arms in modern times, throwing out even 
 the final surrender of Pemberton. 
 
 The energy and skill displayed in this campaign 
 rank General Grant among the great commanders 
 of armies of modern times. 
 
ATTACK AND REPULSE. 245 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ATTACK AND REPULSE. 
 
 We marched towards Vicksburg with the confi- 
 dent step of victors. Our division had done but 
 little fighting during the campaign ; yet we had 
 done the part assigned us, and participated in 
 the general feeling of elation over the successes 
 achieved. We felt that the enemy had been out- 
 marched, out-manoeuvred, and beaten at every 
 point, and were now driven, as Sara Ryder said, to 
 their last hole. 
 
 As we neared Vicksburg on the Jackson road, 
 we found ourselves in a rough country, cut by 
 deep gullies and extensive wood-covered, vine- 
 tangled ravines. Beyond, on still more elevated 
 ground, rose yellow heaps of soil or clay in strik- 
 ing contrast with the vivid green of the surround- 
 ing foliaofe. 
 
 These mud-heaps, as we advanced, soon showed 
 evidences of being outworks of the enemy. Little 
 puffs of smoke curled up here and there from 
 them ; then the sharp crack of distant rifles and 
 the ping and zurr of singing bullets was heard, 
 as if, as we marched on the eneni}^, they were 
 
246 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 saying, " Stand off ! Keep your distance ! We 
 mean to fight ! " 
 
 We turned off the Jackson road on to a road 
 branching to the right, while our skirmish-line 
 engaged the enemy in a crackling conversation 
 of musketry. 
 
 As we halted for a minute or two, the captain 
 looked towards the high land on our front and at 
 what Matt designated " the rebel mud-heaps," and 
 shaking his head, said to me, " They have got a 
 very strong position there, Clifton." 
 
 I replied confidently, " Yes, so they had at the 
 Big Black, but they got up and dusted out of it as 
 soon as we showed ourselves, Captain." 
 
 Peter, who had been looking at the " lay of the 
 land " with a hunter's critical eye (for the art of 
 war is similar to that of the hunter), said, "Musk- 
 rat run to der holes, but fight when get der ! " 
 
 "We'll drive 'era right into the river! "said 
 Matt, joining in the conversation with a confident 
 tone, and with his head thrown back in a charac- 
 teristic manner. 
 
 Our captain, who was about twenty-five years 
 old, had a lion-like face and head. He said in an 
 undertone, " Whether they make a stand or not, I 
 think we shall ' try it on ' to-morrow." 
 
 " Have dig muskrat out here," said Peter with 
 a gesture towards the enemy. 
 
 The captain smiled at the simile, and gave the 
 order, " Attention ! forward, march ! " and once 
 
ATTACK AND REPULSE. 247 
 
 more the regiment took up the swinging step of 
 veterans over the dusty road. 
 
 The road on to which we had turned from the 
 Jackson road, and running at right angles with it, 
 is now known as the Graveyard road, and it soon 
 brought us near the front of the enemy's works 
 known as the " Graveyard bastion " (where we 
 halted) ; a name rendered more significant by our 
 after experiences in attacking it. 
 
 Here it may be well to say to my readers that 
 the enemy's position at Vicksburg was a vast 
 intrenched camp (speaking in general terms) 
 described around the city in a semicircle of seven 
 miles or more in extent. There was also a line of 
 forts on its river front, to defend it from our gun- 
 boats. The position, a strong one naturally, con- 
 sisted of a bluff or plateau two hundred feet above 
 the river and about two miles in width, cut in 
 many places by deep valleys and abrupt ravines. 
 
 Our army occupied positions around it in the 
 following order : 1st, Sherman's corps, extending 
 from the water front on the Mississippi above 
 Vicksburg on the right, and from thence curving 
 around the rebel lines in front of the Graveyard 
 bastion ; ^ 2d, McPherson's corps in front and 
 facing west; 3d, McClernand's corps on the ex- 
 treme left. 
 
 The enemy's works occupied the bluffs of high 
 
 1 A bastion is a projectiDg part of a main fort consisting of a 
 face and two flanks. 
 
248 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 land, protected by gullies and ravines which they 
 had fortified with great skill, so as to sweep with 
 musketry and artillery every approach to their 
 stronghold by road, ravine, or gully. 
 
 The ravines and gullies in front of the forts 
 were filled with canebrakes. and their sides were 
 covered with entangling vines and fallen tree- 
 stumps or standing timber, thus supplementing 
 the arts of man by the hinderances of nature. 
 
 General Sherman has since the war expressed 
 the opinion, after seeing the Russian position at 
 Sebastopol (for which the allied armies of England 
 and France contended for months), that Vicksburg 
 was the stronger of the two. 
 
 The great strength of organized attacks of armed 
 men is in their ability to act as a unit. This, the 
 hindering gullies, thickets, and ravines made im- 
 possible in our first assault on Vicksburg. 
 
 That niofht we made ourselves as comfortable as 
 possible, rolled ourselves in our blankets, and slept 
 the sleep of tired men. The next morning when I 
 awoke I found Matt boiling coffee, of which he had 
 a little still remaining, and our men scattered about 
 engaged in cooking and eating. 
 
 After my frugal soldier's meal, I seated myself 
 and began reading a chapter from my Bible. 
 "Read out loud," said Matt, who had a touching 
 reverence for the Word. I read that morning from 
 the thirty-fifth Psalai. At the fifth verse, " Let them 
 be as chaff before the wind and let the angel of 
 
ATTACK AND REPULSE. 249 
 
 tlie Lord chase them," and at the twenty-seventh 
 verse, " Let them shout for joy and be glad that 
 favor my righteous cause," I heard a hearty 
 " Amen " uttered near me, which proved to come 
 from the captain. As I turned towards him I 
 found he was seated near with his back against a 
 tree ; and he said, as if answering some thought of 
 his own about the chapter, " That expresses the 
 natural call to something higher than his comrades 
 which a man feels like making when about to en- 
 counter trouble or peril, and I have that feeling of 
 calling for lielp very strong this morning. I hope 
 the boys on the hills whom we've got to fight 
 will be scattered 'as chaff before the wind,' and 
 that the Lord will finally let us shout for joy in 
 the triumph of victory ; yet this morning when I 
 think of the fight, I feel depressed. I don't have 
 as much hopefulness and courage as I do some- 
 times." 
 
 " You've got the blues. Captain," I replied. 
 
 After an interval of silence, during which he 
 filled and lit his pipe, he said, without reply to my 
 remark, but as if continuing, " Clifton, I have a 
 sweet-faced, good little mother at home, who taught 
 me to pray, and who I feel prays for me all 
 through these times. If I should not come out of 
 the fight to-day or to-morrow, I wish you would 
 send her my watch and a letter you will find in my 
 pocket. When I left home she said, ' Try to do 
 your whole duty, John, and God will take care of 
 
250 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 the rest.' " After another short silence he resumed, 
 " I haven't thought of these thmgs much until 
 now; I haven't always been just good; but I have 
 never shown the white feather before the enemy or 
 spared myself in labor for the cause. I hope God 
 will forgive the rest hereafter." 
 
 "Don't you think our chances are good? " asked 
 Matt. 
 
 The captain threw off his serious mood, and 
 standing up, said gayly as he glanced down the line 
 at our bronzed veterans, " Faint heart never won 
 an enemy's earthworks, boys : we'll try 'em on ! " 
 
 Afterwards, when the captain had gone down the 
 line, Matt said to me, " I guess we'd better say our 
 prayers pretty thoroughly this morning, Tom. A 
 man never feels like our captain does without 
 a cause." 
 
 Although I laughed at what I called Matt's Irish 
 superstition, yet we both silently said our prayers 
 that morning, at which Michael Ryan looked on 
 with a sniff of disdain and curiosity, either at see- 
 ing a good Catholic and a Protestant praying to- 
 gether, or as if his praying days were over. 
 
 When some of our rough fellows had made fun of 
 Matt at his prayers, he had replied, '' Tom and I 
 have a different way of doing the same thing and 
 of asking for help from the same One, and He hears 
 us both." 
 
 Matt had a truly reverent and devotional spirit, 
 and often quoted to me a remark of his priest's : 
 
ATTACK AND REPULSE. 251 
 
 " Let us love God, not as much as He deserves, that 
 we cannot do ; but as much as we can, that He 
 deserves." 
 
 The attack on the enemy's works which we had 
 confidently awaited did not come as early as we 
 expected. 
 
 We were formed on the road which ran alono- 
 the top of a ridge with a ravine on our right and 
 left and with the sides cut by gullies, and steep de- 
 clivities towards the enemy's bastion. 
 
 It must have been nearly two o'clock in the 
 afternoon before we heard the artillery firing, which 
 was the signal agreed upon for an attack all along 
 our line from right to left. 
 
 At the sound of the artillery volleys, we 
 advanced at quick-step with the Thirteenth United 
 States regulars in advance ; brave fellows, com- 
 manded by the heroic Captain Washington. We 
 then spread out, advancing in line, scrambling 
 over the obstructions mentioned, — the deep gul- 
 lies and fallen trees and tangled vines which made 
 it impossible for us to reach the enemy in any- 
 thing like an organized formation. As we ad- 
 vanced into line, the boom of cannon, the zur., zw, 
 swich, bang of moving m\d exploding shells ; the 
 singing pmg and bur-r-r of passing bullets, and their 
 spat^ spat, as they struck the timber or ground ; the 
 grape-shot ploughing the earth or tearing the bark 
 from the logs and trees, — made for us anything 
 but entertaininof music, 
 
252 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 We heard the yells of the enemy and the cheers 
 of our men mingle with the heavy boom of cannon 
 and the crackle of musketry, as our advance en- 
 countered the rebels behind the breastwork on 
 our right. 
 
 I caught tlie flutter of a flag planted on the 
 enemy's works, and then the quick crackle of 
 musketry was intensified as we neared the rebel 
 position and saw dimly through the smoke a dark 
 line of heads and shoulders above the yellow para- 
 pet. In another moment we had reached the foot 
 of their "mud-heap," and I found myself with 
 Matt and Peter and the others clambering up the 
 steep slope. 
 
 In another instant we heard the command, 
 " Lie down, men," and a volley passed over us. 
 Once on our bellies, we watched for heads to 
 appear over the paraj^et,^ and fired when we saw 
 them. 
 
 " Now follow me, byes ; I'll show yez how it's 
 done," yelled Michael Ryan, scrambling up the 
 parapet. 
 
 "Charge up I" commanded the captain. "Don't 
 let that wild Irishman shame you ! " 
 
 The loose earth giving way under our feet 
 fortunately made the task of obedience hard, or 
 we should have all been killed as we again started 
 to scale the steep slope. 
 
 1 Parapet, a breast l)eightof earth covering soldiers from a front 
 attack, 
 
ATTACK AND REPULSE. 253 
 
 In another instant we sa^y Michael fire, then 
 club his musket, while standing on top of the rebel 
 parapet, then, with a wild screech, he came rolling 
 down, heels over head, like a sheep with its feet 
 tied. 
 
 A line of musket barrels protruded over the 
 bastion, and amid blaze and smoke we rolled or 
 got down the slopes of the fort in any way we 
 could, for we were not in a mood to be particular. 
 
 After we had regained our confidence and 
 courage once more we found one man still lying 
 face downward with uplifted sword on the slope. 
 It was our brave captain. 
 
 Peter crept up the bank, seized the captain by 
 his feet and pulled him down. The sword dropped 
 — our brave captain was dead. Four others of 
 our men were dead in the ditch ; a dozen were 
 wounded, and the balance were sore and savage at 
 heart, — for the demon of battle possessed them. 
 
 We now watched the parapet for rebel heads, 
 and with deadly aim fired on every dark object 
 that showed itself above, and fiercely answered 
 yell with yell. 
 
 Sometimes, without the men showing them- 
 selves, muskets would be held almost vertically 
 over the parapet and fired. We shot at every 
 hand as well as at every head that protruded. 
 
 This fight was kept up until darkness set in, 
 when we got orders to withdraw. 
 
 The advance of our division under Captain 
 
"254 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Washington had meanwhile had a most tenible 
 encounter. After ])lanting its colors on the exte- 
 rior slope of the enemy's bastion, our right retired 
 with its brave commander mortally wounded, and 
 seventj'-seven out of two hundred and fifty men 
 killed or wounded. 
 
 All along the line of several miles, from right 
 to left, similar encounters and repulses had taken 
 place. The rebel fire was hot, and our loss corre- 
 spondingly severe. 
 
 Steele's division on our extreme right, we 
 learned, had carried some of the outworks and 
 defences, and had captured a few prisoners, but 
 yet the repulse was general along the whole front 
 occupied by the Union army. 
 
 The rebels had evidently regained their morale, 
 spirit, and courage. 
 
 We sorrowfully brought in our dead captain 
 and some of our wounded men, but did not bring 
 in our dead. 
 
 Tired, nerve-strained, and not a little despond- 
 ent, we had retired to the cover of the ravine. 
 
 Here we buried our young and gallant captain in 
 a soldier's grave, after cutting off one of his tawny 
 locks to be sent to his " sweet-faced little mother," 
 on the banks of that great river for the possession 
 of whose waters her son had died, fighting so 
 bravely. 
 
 The same night, to our great surprise, Michael 
 Ryan, whom we had thought dead, walked down 
 
ATTACK AND REPULSE. 255 
 
 the ravine from the enemy's intrenchments, growl- 
 ing furiously and humorously that he had been 
 left alone to capture the fort. 
 
 He had, it seemed, only been stunned by a blow 
 on his head, but had resolutely refused to consider 
 himself dead after being senseless as he said for 
 some hours on the parapet. 
 
 Matt had received three flesh-wounds, but not 
 dangerous ones. Peter was slightly wounded by 
 a bullet passing between his thumb and forefinger, 
 while the edge of ray forage-cap had a bullet-hole 
 in it. 
 
 On the same night of our repulse some of our 
 men threw up a breast height within one hun- 
 dred and forty feet of the enemy's line. 
 
 The 20th and 21st were otherwise occupied by 
 our forces in clearing the ground for our camps, 
 in building new roads to the rear, bringing up 
 provisions, and in relieving the material wants of 
 the individual machine known as a soldier. 
 
 New roads were made on our right to Chicka- 
 saw Bluff ; new bridges built across the bayou ; 
 steamboats loaded with munitions of war, includ- 
 ing hard-bread and coffee, which most of the divis- 
 ions of the army had been destitute of for several 
 weeks, were brought up. 
 
 We soon discovered by our pickets being ad- 
 vanced, and our artillery being placed in command- 
 ing positions, that another attack on the enemy's 
 works was meditated, 
 
256 TOM CLIFTON'. 
 
 While we felt that there was a moral as well as 
 a military reason for carrying the enemy's works 
 as soon as possible, yet we did not feel so confident 
 of the results as has sometimes been assumed. 
 We had, however, an army in our rear under 
 Johnston as well as the one we were attempting 
 to " gobble " as we called it, and therefore could 
 not afford to linger without, as Sam Ryder said, 
 " trying them on." 
 
 In the general assault which took place on the 
 22d, the watches of the generals were set by the 
 commander's ^and the time of the attack agreed 
 upon at ten o'clock in the morning. As early as 
 three o'clock, our artillery began to " advertise," 
 as Sam said, our assault. Then began the usual 
 exchange of musketry on the skirmish-line to 
 keep down the fire of the rebels behind the para- 
 pet, but who, loading their rifles under cover, 
 showed themselves only when in the act of firing. 
 
 Over a hundred and fifty of our men rushed 
 forward with boards and small timber to bridge 
 the enemy's ditches. The column of attack fol- 
 lowed, and as in the previous attack of the 19th 
 reached the exterior slopes of the forts, and were 
 driven into the ditches by the enemy that rose in 
 double ranks and poured a furious musket fire 
 upon us that swept every point with its leaden 
 showers of death. 
 
 We were deployed on the off side of a spur lead- 
 ing from the ridge on which the Graveyard road 
 
ATTACK AND REPULSE. 257 
 
 ran ; keeping up a steady fire upon every head, or 
 even hand, that showed above tlie intrenclied posi- 
 tion of the enemy. We saw two men stand and 
 fire from the parapet, but they did not stand there 
 long, for our trained Western sliarp-shooters were 
 not accustomed to miss tlieir aim. 
 
 We saw tlie attack, and also saw that it would 
 fail. When the front ranks had reached the 
 ditches and recoiled, the masses in front pushed 
 them forward until the men reached the slopes of 
 the intrenchments, and some of their flags were 
 once more planted there by our brave fellows. 
 
 Exposed, however, to a terrible fire of a double 
 line of men behind their strong defences, they were 
 soon broken into groups, seeking protection behind 
 logs, in the ditches, and wherever shelter was 
 afforded, from the destructive short-range fire. 
 
 During the night that followed, some of our 
 wounded Avere brought to the protection of the 
 ravines ; but the ground was plentifully sprinkled 
 with dead, for we had once more met with a bloody 
 repulse along th^ entire line, in spite of the heroic 
 efforts of our soldiers. 
 
 We must henceforth exercise patience as well 
 as courage if we would grasp the coveted prize. 
 
 The very next day the army begun to dig rifle- 
 pits, and continued digging until the " Gibraltar of 
 the South " fell before our victorious spades and 
 arms. 
 
 As soon as the news of the investment of Pem- 
 
258 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 berton's army at Vicksburg reached the North, a 
 large number of visitors came to see us. Some 
 came as to a circus, some to see sons or fathers and 
 brothers, others to reclaim the bodies of their dead. 
 Members of the Christian and Sanitary Commis- 
 sions came to minister to our sick and wounded. 
 My father wrote to me that he expected to come, 
 but that the want of help on the farm on account 
 of so many young men going to war had kept him 
 at home at farm work. 
 
 I thought that women and citizens should keep 
 away from scenes of war. We hear much about 
 women in hospitals. My experience has been that 
 they were great nuisances. 
 
THE TRUCE AND ARREST. 259 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE TRUCE AND ARREST. 
 
 Although we had not lost confidence in our- 
 selves or our ultimate success, yet after the two 
 bloody repulses chronicled in the foregoing chap- 
 ter, we were for a short time a little irritated and 
 depressed. It was galling to know that although 
 we had lost heavily we had inflicted but slight 
 losses on a foe whose powers of defence we had 
 underrated and despised. 
 
 I have before noticed that after all great con- 
 flicts where the nerves of men are strained to 
 an unnatural tension, there comes a reaction of 
 gloom and discouragement. But give men a good 
 camping-place, and rest and sleep, and plenty to 
 .eat, and they soon forget previous hardships. 
 
 The night after the attack a group of comrades 
 were gathered around a little camp-fire made in 
 one of the wide ravines, back from the right of 
 the Graveyard road, and out of range of the ene- 
 my's fire. Some had been gathering for their beds 
 the Spanish moss which hung from the trees like 
 funeral decorations. 
 
260 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Peter was quietly smoking. Matt was making 
 coffee. Sam Ryder, snuffling with a bad cold, was 
 cooking something very savory in half a canteen 
 held over the fire. 
 
 The crackling fire of a soldier's bivouac conveys 
 a sense of comfort, and is a centre of camp cheer- 
 fulness as the fireside of home is of content and 
 cheeriness. Occasionally the rapid crack of mus- 
 ketry along our front showed that the deadly 
 conversation between our picket-lines had not 
 entirely ceased, and yet no comments were made 
 by our group. 
 
 As I glanced over the faces of our boys I men- 
 tally compared them with the boys who came to 
 the front with me in '61 as guileless of any proper 
 knowledge of a soldier's hard fare as children. 
 The lines on their faces were deepened ; the forced 
 marches, encounters, and many dangers, the coarse 
 and often scanty food, had transformed these boys, 
 once so careless and happy, into stern, resolute, 
 bronzed veterans, men who had the iron of resolu- 
 tion in their souls, with some of the generous glow 
 of manly youth. 
 
 Our boys began to talk about the attack and the 
 causes of its failure with that free spirit of criti- 
 cism of the higher officers that was perhaps too 
 common in our army. 
 
 One fellow thought we might have been sue- 
 cessful if we had maintained only a thin skirmish- 
 line, and then massed the balance of our men for 
 
THE TRUCE AND ARREST. 261 
 
 an attack at some key-point on the lines of the 
 enemy. 
 
 " We advertised that last fight too much," said 
 Sam Ryder. 
 
 "What kind o' stuff are you givin' us now? 
 What do yer mean ? " asked Jim Fowler. 
 
 " Why," said Sam, " we set our artillery to roar- 
 ing at them fellers before daylight, saying just as 
 plain as if we'd talked it, '• We're a-coming fer 
 yer just as soon as we get our breakfast ! ' " 
 
 We all laughed at Sam's presentation of the 
 subject, but were only agreed on one of his proj^o- 
 sitions, and that was, that after eating our breakfast 
 that morning it would have been better if we had 
 chewed on it until the present moment, — and 
 then not attacked. 
 
 Peter expressed in his usual monosyllabic way 
 his opinion that we should have crept as near to 
 the enemy as possible in the silence of night and 
 then have made a great rush for their works before 
 they could fairly get their ej^es open. 
 
 " Yes," said Matt, " but there are more skulkers 
 in the dark than in the daylight always, otherwise 
 I should say yes to that." 
 
 " But say, fellers," said Jim Fowler, " them fel- 
 lers jest give us an almighty good peppering ; 
 they fit in good style, them chaps did." We reluc- 
 tantly agreed with him. 
 
 In short, there was the usual display of military 
 knowledge, and with it a mixture of growling 
 
262 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 about the generals and over the results, but a 
 generous silence was observed concerning those 
 officers who had shared with us the dangers of the 
 assault. 
 
 When the boys spoke of our captain it was in 
 suppressed tones and with an assent to a remark, 
 that we shouldn't get another such bully fellow 
 to command the company. 
 
 During the silence that fell on the group after 
 the mention of the captain's name, we heard a 
 peculiar shrill cry coming from the direction of 
 the enemy's works. " What's that ? " said Matt. 
 
 We listened and again heard it. "What is it? " 
 I exclaimed in alarm. 
 
 " Oh, that's some kind of a screech-owl," said 
 Sam, who had a confident way of explaining every- 
 thing. " There's all kinds of plaguy things in 
 this country." 
 
 Peter stood up in his peculiar attitude of listen- 
 ing ; and again a shriek long and shrill was heard. 
 
 " What is it, Peter ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Hurt horse or mule," said Peter, resuming his 
 seat. 
 
 So it turned out; for in the morning we learned 
 that the enemy, to save feeding their horses and 
 mules, had turned them loose between the two lines, 
 and had shot many of them when they approached 
 our lines, in order that their dead carcasses might 
 endanger the health of our soldiers, or that we 
 might not derive any benefit by their capture. 
 
THE TRUCE AND ARREST. 263 
 
 This practice of shooting horses by both the 
 contestants continued until the poor brutes wan- 
 dering between the hostile lines were finally ex- 
 terminated. 
 
 On the 24th we began breaking ground for 
 intrenchments and the construction of batteries 
 on the ridge about four hundred yards from the 
 enemy's works. 
 
 The construction of field-works called to the 
 duty of engineers every man who could pretend 
 to a knowledge of the art ; every graduate of the 
 national military school was required to assume 
 these duties. 
 
 General James B. McPherson had graduated at 
 West Point, in the engineers, the highest gradua- 
 tion, and, previous to the war, was in charge of the 
 coast defences of New England. He was one of 
 the most efficient engineers in the service. Once or 
 twice I saw him riding along the intrenched line 
 during the siege, as grand an equestrian figure as 
 I ever saw. 
 
 General Archer, our old colonel and friend, was 
 also assigned to this duty in common with other 
 West Pointers, and it was under him that the men 
 of our company on this occasion learned to con- 
 struct siege material. 
 
 Our first lesson was in making gabions ; and 
 perhaps it may interest my readers to know how 
 they were made. 
 
 A circle was first struck on the ground about 
 
264 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 two and one-half feet in diameter; and around 
 this circle stakes two and one-half feet high were 
 driven into the ground, about four inches apart. 
 Willows, grape-vines, or canes (the last beaten 
 to make them flexible) were used. These were 
 woven in and out between the stakes in the same 
 manner that baskets are made. When finished, 
 those gabions resembled huge rough baskets with- 
 out bottom or top. 
 
 A sap-roller is made in the same manner, but 
 they are from five to six or seven feet long, and 
 much larger around in proportion, as they are used 
 to shield men when at work in rifle trenches. 
 They are placed in front of the trenches so as 
 always to make a barrier between the enemy and 
 the men at work. 
 
 Peter had been accustomed to basket-making, 
 'and his gabions were so fine, and his instructions 
 to us so lucid, that both Matt and I became very 
 expert in making this part of siege material. 
 These gabions are of great value in revetting or 
 lining embrasures or strong earth-works. 
 
 They are usually carried in the night as near 
 the enemy's works as possible, set down and 
 speedily filled with earth. When this is done a 
 single man can shield himself behind it, or advance 
 in line behind it towards the enemy, or other ga- 
 bions can be placed beside it and filled, and these 
 form a starting-point for a sap or trench. 
 
 During this siege I often saw two barrels put 
 
THE TRUCE AND ARREST. 265 
 
 head to head and wound with twigs and canes for 
 sap-rollers. Sometimes the rebels would throw fire- 
 balls into these sap-rollers, and more than once 
 they were successful in destroying them. 
 
 Since the attack on the 22d our dead and some 
 of our wounded lay where they had fallen, between 
 the two lines, so close up to the enemy's works 
 that it had been impossible for their comrades to 
 remove them without danger of being killed. 
 
 On the 25th a truce was granted us to bury 
 the Union dead and to succor such of our wounded 
 as had not been removed. We found several of 
 our brave fellows who had been exposed to the 
 heat of the sun, and to the tortures of wounds, 
 hunger, and thirst for two days. Their sufferings 
 were terrible ; and one said to us when rescued, 
 " Thank God, young fellows, I am not to die like 
 a dog after serving my country like a man." 
 Another said, " It was terrible out there in the sun 
 without water all day yesterday." 
 
 Such are the hardships often exacted in war 
 from patriots whose sacrifices are too soon forgotten 
 or ignored by those who do not understand them. 
 
 It was quite late in the afternoon when the 
 truce took place, and after the wounded were car- 
 ried away the dead were buried near where they 
 had been lying because their condition would not 
 admit of their removal. 
 
 Groups of Confederate and Union soldiers then 
 lingered to chaff and swap tobacco for coffee in as 
 
266 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 absolute good-nature as if they were neighbors and 
 friends instead of foes. 
 
 "Why don't you give it up," said Sam Ryder, 
 " and come over and get some hard-bread and 
 coffee, and have some decent grub? " 
 
 " Why don't you give it up, Yank, and go home? " 
 was the retort. 
 
 " Got to dig you out o' this phice first, and we're 
 goin' to do it if it takes a year." 
 
 " 'T will take yer longer than that ; we uns hain't 
 showed our hands yit," said the Confederate 
 threateningly. 
 
 " No," said Sam laughingly, " nor your faces 
 neither. We ain't in no hurry ; we are holdin' yer 
 as prisoners of war and lettin' yer feed yerselves." 
 
 " Well, by me faith, if it's prisoners of war they 
 are, it's about toime, sor, that we took away their 
 shmall arums," said Michael Ryan, who with a 
 group of Union and Confederate soldiers had been 
 listening to this chaff. 
 
 " By heavens, I thought you were dead ! " ex- 
 claimed a rebel soldier, turning and facing Michael 
 in great excitement. 
 
 " Why, it's Pat Pike, the scout ! " exclaimed 
 another. 
 
 The rebel soldier who first had spoken, as if too 
 much had already been said, put his hand warn- 
 ingly on the other's shoulder. 
 
 All this time Michael stood in seeming apathy. 
 The only sign of excitement that he showed was 
 
THE TRUCE AND ARREST. 2(37 
 
 that the hand hanging at his side was clinched like 
 a vise, and the short black pipe was griped so 
 firmly between his teeth that it broke with a snap. 
 
 "Arrest that man, and hurry him to the rear ! " 
 ordered our colonel in a low tone. 
 
 Michael looked up from under his straight shaggy 
 brows while his lips disclosed the overlapping 
 under teeth. His eyes had in them that danger- 
 ous phosphorescent light, so like a beast at bay ; 
 yet he had such outward self-control that he was 
 perfectly quiet and his face was rigid. 
 
 As the men at the colonel's command advanced 
 to seize him, I saw the muscles of his arms swell 
 under his blouse ; the huge lump in his throat rise 
 like a danger signal, the cords of his neck swell, 
 the head become erect ; then with the angry roar of 
 a lion he sprang forward, with his brawny arms ex- 
 tended, as if about to hurl his would-be captors 
 right and left. 
 
 I heard the click of revolvers around me, and at 
 this sound Michael subdued his anger as with one 
 act of will, and in an instant became calm again. 
 
 With a careless smile on his face he said, " Yer 
 intentions are good, colonel ; ye wud 'a' shot me 
 down like a dog, but Tm not to be shot this after- 
 noon, thank ye ! " 
 
 There was a certain dignity, an attitude of com- 
 mand in his manner, which was new to us, and 
 which seemed to affect even the colonel, for he said 
 to the men, " If he accompanies you without resist- 
 
268 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 ance, don't touch him ; if he attempts to escape, 
 shoot him down ! " 
 
 When Michael passed Matt, with an indescribable 
 tone of authority he ordered the guard to " Halt, 
 while I speak to this boy." Then, addressing Matt, 
 with softening in his voice he said, " Matt, be- 
 lieve what you will about me, but I never intended 
 ye harrum. I wud give my life to save yours, 
 for your father was " — He hesitated, and then was 
 hurried away by the guard to be court-martialled 
 and shot. 
 
 Matt turned to me with a white face, and with a 
 quiver in his voice- said, " He's a brave man. I 
 don't understand him. I have always felt that he 
 was not what he pretended to be, but he's not my 
 father, thank God ! I will see him to-morrow and 
 find out what he knows about my father ; how he 
 came by his letters and secrets." 
 
 Matt seemed fated not to find out about his 
 father from this man ; for that very night marching 
 orders came to our division, and by sunrise, in light 
 marching order, we began our march with three 
 days' rations, towards the Big Black River. 
 
 During the week that followed, our time was 
 employed in an expedition between that river and 
 the Yazoo, burning bridges, driving away cattle, 
 and destroying everything on which Johnston's 
 army might subsist. 
 
 General Grant, finding that Johnston's army had 
 been re-enforced and was menacing his rear, had 
 
THE TRUCE AND ARREST. 269 
 
 sent out a division under General Frank P. Blair, 
 Jr., to intercept and observe the enemy, supposed 
 to be collecting between the Big Black River and 
 the Yazoo River, and also to destroy railroad 
 bridges and provisions on which an army might be 
 fed. 
 
 We Avere absent about a week on this expedition, 
 during which we reconnoitred the whole region 
 thoroughly along the Yazoo for forty-five miles. 
 
 Matt's first anxiety on returning to our old camp 
 was to learn the fate of Michael Ryan, or Pat Pike 
 as we must now call him. 
 
 "They've shot him by this time," said one of 
 our men. 
 
 " Old Colonel Tuttle, who's conducting these 
 court-martials," said another, " don't fool a great 
 deal with rebel spies. A volley and a pine coffin 
 is the most he ever does for them." 
 
 " Yes," said Jim Fowler, " and he considers a 
 man guilty until he proves his innocence." 
 
 Matt's inquiries were met with a good deal of 
 reticence, but the substance of the replies was, that 
 in the midst of the court-martialli ng of Pike, the 
 proceedings had been stopped by an order from 
 headquarters, and the last seen of him was when he 
 had been conducted under guard to General Grant's 
 quarters. 
 
 " Likely the evidence was complete, and General 
 Grant wanted to question him before he was shot," 
 said Jim Fowler. " Grant don't say much, but it's 
 
270 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 like trying to pull a piece of solid iron apart to 
 move him. I guess Michael's done for." 
 
 This seemed to be the general opinion, but to 
 Matt and myself the mystery connected with Pike 
 seemed deeper than ever. 
 
 A soldier has but little time, especially during a 
 siege, to make inquiries or discuss individual mat- 
 ters ; and our attention was soon diverted to the 
 siege, or as Peter styled it, " digging out rebel 
 musquash nests." 
 
 We found our comrades all along the line at 
 work in the trenches as they were detailed, and 
 also pioneer companies and hired negro laborers 
 who had done a great deal of the hard work. 
 
 Our company camping-places were made as com- 
 fortable as possible by bringing up the camp 
 equipage belonging to the different regiments. 
 Although we might still be said to face an enemy 
 of over thirty thousand on our front, as well as 
 having an ai-my threatening our rear, yet our army 
 was now being largely re-enforced, and was strong 
 enough to fight from either direction. We could 
 also spare men enough to interpose a strong force 
 between Vicksburg and Haynes Bluff, the direc- 
 tion in which we were most likely to be threatened 
 by Johnston's army in his attempt to relieve the 
 Vicksburg garrison. 
 
SIEGE AND SURRENDER. 271 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 SIEGE AND SURRENDER. 
 
 The siege had been pushed with great vigor. 
 A battery of six pieces of field artillery was dis- 
 posed on our front near the Graveyard road, with 
 three other batteries along our division front on 
 the ridge about four hundred feet from the rebel 
 bastion. 
 
 The nearness of our artillery will be realized 
 when we consider that three hundred yards was at 
 that time the usual distance in ordinary target 
 practice. 
 
 Our approaches towards the enemy started from 
 the left of the earthwork, where the first battery 
 mentioned was stationed. 
 
 If my readers will imagine a wide shallow ditch, 
 three feet in depth, with the excavated earth 
 thrown all on one side, they will understand how 
 our rifle trenches looked while in the process of 
 construction. Sometimes while the earth was 
 being thrown up, a breast height of logs or gabions 
 was built up in front, and the earth was thrown 
 over against it, with a step of earth left for the 
 sharp-shooter or infantry to stand on. 
 
272 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 In digging, the soil was thrown toward the 
 enemy, and these trenches ran in zigzag fashion 
 instead of in direct lines. This is the usual 
 method of approaching an enemy in a siege, as 
 the enemy might, if they were in a straight line, 
 enfilade the whole length of the trench. All 
 along our line for miles were to be seen these zig- 
 zags, which Sam Ryder said put him in mind of a 
 ship beating to windward ; receding from one 
 point in order to advance at another. 
 
 These approaches on our front finally reached 
 a lone oak-tree standing a little over a hundred 
 yards from the enemy's earthwork. 
 
 By this tree a strong fort was erected for our 
 sharp-shooters; and, among other marksmen of 
 our company, Peter, Matt, and I were sometimes 
 detailed for duty. 
 
 Not a rebel head or arm could be shown during 
 the day without risk of being struck by a bullet. 
 The object of this sharp-shooting stand was to pro- 
 tect our labor parties against the rebel marksmen. 
 These parties, however, generally worked at night. 
 
 While we were at the " place of arms " as mili- 
 tary men would term it, or " duck-pit " as Peter 
 called it, we could see the operations of our men in 
 the trenches ; and it was amusing to watch them 
 digging deeper and deeper while the firing was 
 going on, until we could scarcely see their heads. 
 
 Fi'om the right of this strong rifle-pit a " half 
 parallel," or rifle-trench, covered only toward the 
 
SIEGE AND SURRENDER. 273 
 
 enem}^, was constructed to the foot of the hill in 
 front. This was cut along the hillside ; and on 
 reaching the summit another strong earthwork 
 was begun within eighty yards of the enemy's 
 works. 
 
 In the night we could see the huge sap-rollers 
 slowly moving ahead of the trenches as fast as 
 they were dug, nearer and nearer the enemy, with 
 the steadiness of fate. 
 
 Only once or twice, to my knowledge, was 
 there any attempt made to destroy the sap-rollers ; 
 but on several occasions the rebels shot into them, 
 and then a series of volleys would come from our 
 sharp-shooters in reply. 
 
 Generally the attitude of the rebel picket during 
 the night was one of curiosity rather than antag- 
 onism, and sometimes an agreement would exist be- 
 tween Yanks and rebs not to fire upon each other. 
 
 Several times our pickets got so near to each 
 other as to get mixed ; and then an agreement was 
 made as to where the lines should be, which agree- 
 ments were usually much to our advantage. 
 
 Sometimes after entering into a tacit truce, 
 privates and non-commissioned officers would meet 
 between the lines to swap tobacco and coffee. 
 On these occasions the utmost friendliness would 
 be shown, and at times important information 
 would incidentally be given us as to what was 
 going on in the city. 
 
 The connecting parapets and every other avail- 
 
274 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 able position within rifle-shot were, however, con- 
 stantly occupied by a line of sharp-shooters during 
 the day and by trench guards and pickets during 
 the night. 
 
 Wherever our zigzags gave the opportunity, 
 loopholes were made by putting logs on top of 
 the earthwork, and then digging underneath them 
 holes large enough to run a musket through. 
 Stumps and fascines were also sometimes placed 
 on the top of the parapet for protection. 
 
 Had the Confederates had ammunition for a 
 constant artillery fire on our earthworks, these 
 head-logs would have been knocked into flinders. 
 
 The position of our sharp-shooters was generally 
 as elevated as that of the rebels, and the rifle-pits 
 along the ravine and up its sides were so much 
 lower than the Confederate works, that they found 
 it too expensive to human life and limb to expose 
 themselves by firing upon us here. Our artillery 
 was also protected against bullets by closing the em- 
 brasures with thick planks and other contrivances 
 at the times when the guns were not being fired. 
 
 In every direction along the fifteen-mile line 
 of investment, the same kinds of earthworks, rifle- 
 pits, covered ways, and approaches were to be 
 seen. 
 
 Along the ravine, between us and the Jackson 
 road, as well as on our right, covered ways, by 
 which our men could be quickly concentrated 
 along the line, were constructed. 
 
SIEGE AND SURRENDER. 275 
 
 At one time, near us, the enemy fired into one 
 of our sap-rollers, rolling it over and over upon 
 the men who were digging in the trenches. Our 
 artillery and sharp-shooters replied with such fury 
 that they did not try it again. 
 
 Heavy guns, carrying one hundred and two 
 hundred pound shot were generally used at that 
 period during the siege of a fortified place ; but at 
 Vicksburg there were no siege-guns to be had, 
 but simply such artillery as is used in the field. 
 On our right, however, there were some heavy 
 ship-guns loaned by Admiral Porter and manned 
 by his sailors. 
 
 At night we could hear the jarring boom of 
 mortars from our naval fleet, or from the mortar- 
 raft anchored near the shore of the thumb-shaped 
 peninsula opposite Vicksburg. At night we could 
 see bombs like rockets describing curved lines 
 against the sky. 
 
 The shell that exploded during the day over 
 the beleaguered city made little round clouds of 
 smoke, at first seemingly compact and then spread- 
 ing and drifting away. 
 
 During the siege the Confederates tried at dif- 
 ferent times to smuggle percussion-caps (of which 
 they were short) through our lines. On the 25th 
 of May several of them dressed in Federal uniform 
 were captured while trying to get into Vicksburg 
 with the coveted article. 
 
 We had been warned that such attempts might 
 
276 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 be made, but thought but little of it, until one 
 night the following incident occurred when we 
 were on trench guard with a working-party. 
 
 The rebels had just been making themselves 
 unpleasantly familiar by throwing hand grenades, 
 and in one instance a shell with lighted fuse, when 
 one of the working-party jumped upon the parapet 
 as if about to rush in anger upon the enemy. This 
 he no doubt would have done, had not Peter 
 caught him by the feet and pulled him struggling 
 into the trench again. The man seized a musket 
 standing against the parapet, but before he could 
 use it Peter had knocked him down, and in reply 
 to our exclamations said, " Spy Wild Dog ! " 
 
 On rising to his feet the prisoner tried to throw 
 his canteen towards the enemy's mud heap, but 
 was frustrated in the attempt, and his hands tied. 
 
 The suspected spy was taken into camp and put 
 under guard while the colonel was sent for. He 
 was carefully searched, but nothing was found 
 until Peter showed that the man's canteen was 
 full of percussion-caps. When these were emptied 
 into a rubber blanket two musket cartridges of 
 ordinary make were found among them, on the 
 paper of one of which was found a cipher despatch 
 from General Johnston, of which the following is 
 a copy : — 
 
 " Lieutenant-General Pemberton : my X, A, F, V, last U, S, 
 L, X, L, A, M, E, I send U, S, L, X, by B, K, C, Y, A, J and 
 200 V, E, G, T. How and where is the J, S, Q, M, L, G, S, F, 
 N, E, H, B, F, Y, is your K, B, E, E, L. J. E. Johnston." 
 
SIEGE AND SURRENDER. 277 
 
 It is probable that if this spy had tried at almost 
 any other part of our line, he would have been 
 successful in his ruse ; but Peter's knowledge of 
 the man, together with his keen Indian instinct, 
 had alone prevented it. 
 
 A drumhead court-martial was convened by 
 General Blair, and we were summoned to give our 
 evidence. During the examination the spy sat 
 stolidly observant, occasionally giving keen fox- 
 like glances toward the witnesses. While this was 
 going on I saw him take a piece of paper, write 
 a few words on it, and push it toward one of the 
 officers of the court. The officer glanced at the 
 paper and passed it to General Blair, who had 
 come in during the examination, and who, after 
 reading it, gave the man an astonished look, then 
 turning to a table wrote a note and sent it off by 
 an orderly. 
 
 The spy stood all this time with excellent nerve, 
 showing no concern except by the same sharp 
 glances thrown occasionally toward members of 
 the court. We were dismissed after giving our 
 evidence regarding his capture, and of having seen 
 him several times within our lines. The sequel, 
 which we learned some time afterward, I shall 
 give in its proper place. 
 
 We inquired next day about him, and were told 
 by some that he had been executed, and by others 
 that he had been sent to General Grant's headquar- 
 ters and had not been heard of since. For several 
 
278 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 weeks my right arm, in wliich I had received a 
 flesh wound at Chickasaw Bluff, had given me 
 trouble, and finally, the wound breaking out afresh, 
 I was, much against my will, sent in June to our 
 hospital for treatment. It was a place that sol- 
 diers as a rule have no liking for, but one to which 
 they must sometimes resort in cases of necessity. 
 
 The surgeon was a great burly fellow of few 
 words, and was seemingly better fitted for a sap- 
 roller than a field-officer. He examined my 
 wound, evidently considering me of no conse- 
 quence except as the owner attached to the injured 
 member ; for after squeezing and pinching my arm 
 without any preliminary other than a grunt, pro- 
 duced a sharp instrument, and after one slashing 
 cut, gave a few directions to the assistant and 
 walked out without looking me in the face or even 
 saying good-day. 
 
 " What in Tom Walker did the old rascal mean 
 by that? " I exclaimed between howls. The assist- 
 ant muttered something between his teeth, pro- 
 duced a sponge, carbolic acid, and water in a tin 
 wash-basin, and proceeded to sponge my wound, 
 still muttering replies to my questions between 
 his teeth, and gruffly reprimanding me when I 
 howled at his procedure. At last he condescended 
 to say, " Didn't heal from the bottom." After 
 winding a bandage about my arm and saturating 
 it with water he turned me loose. For several 
 days I had to go through this performance every 
 
SIEGE AND SURRENDER. 279 
 
 morning, varied by having the wound reamed out 
 with caustic, regarding which I will say to the 
 uninitiated that it was worse than a red-hot iron. 
 Carbolic acid and caustic were the only antiseptics 
 used in good old army days. 
 
 I soon began to like the gruff fat surgeon and 
 his assistant, notwithstanding their unceremonious 
 manner of using caustic and cutting into a man 
 without consulting him. At this time I was 
 granted passes to be absent from hospital quarters 
 during a part of the day. 
 
 One Sunday shortly after my entrance to the 
 hospital I wandered down to the camp of a Massa- 
 chusetts regiment (which had been sent to re-en- 
 force our line during the siege) to attend a religous 
 service held at its headquarters. 
 
 The preacher in a nasal tone gave out as a text, 
 " The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wis- 
 dom." He preached an excellent sermon, arguing 
 that the fear of the Lord drove out all other 
 kinds of fear, and it was therefore important that 
 soldiers should have it. The speaker had not pro- 
 ceeded far, however, before I discovered a strange 
 familiarity in tone and gesture. " What is the 
 chaplain's name ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Reverend Uriah Johnson," was the reply. 
 
 It was my old schoolmaster, very much improved 
 in manner, dress, and speech. The sermon was 
 not ended when one of the rebel batteries began 
 an uproar and the shell howled their hoarse un- 
 musical anathemas around us. 
 
280 TOM CLIFTON, 
 
 The Reverend Uriah was evidently not yet thor- 
 oughly accustomed to such church music ; for 
 before I could get a chance to speak to him I saw 
 him with his hat off, on the off side of his horse, 
 running along by his side, urging him forward with 
 a click of the tongue, and paying no heed to the 
 laughter of the boys of the regiment, who unchari- 
 tably shouted, " The fear of the Lord will take away 
 all that, parson ! " 
 
 I saw Parson Uriah after this ; and re-entroducing 
 myself as his old pupil, we were soon on good 
 terms. From him I got news from Centreboro, and 
 also learned that he intended to resign his com- 
 mission soon and to settle in the West. 
 
 On' the 3d of July I met Sam Ryder, who had a 
 genius for hearing news before any one else. He 
 rushed up to me exclaiming, — 
 
 " Say, neow, heard the news, Tom ? " 
 
 " No ; what is it ? " 
 
 " The rebs are going ter surrender as true as yer 
 live ! " 
 
 " How do you know that, Sam ? " I asked. 
 
 " Why, I jest see General Grant ridin' deown 
 that way," pointing towards McPherson's line, 
 " as cool as an old iceberg, an' they dew say he's 
 gone ter see old Pemberton to talk over the terms 
 o' surrender." 
 
 " I 'low," said Jim Fowler, " we've got the rebs 
 whar their ha'r is short, and they are thinkin' of 
 surrender." 
 
Parson Uriah niniiiiig away. — I'age 280. 
 
SIEGE AND SURRENDER. 281 
 
 " What makes you think so ? " 
 
 '•'• Think I why they say so themselves," said 
 Jim. " One of 'em said only last night, ' We uns 
 hev ter give up the tussle right soon, fer you uns 
 has got a heap more grub fixin's than we uns. 
 Our mule meat's most giv' out.' " 
 
 " Well," said Sam Ryder, " they dew sing low if 
 that's their tune." 
 
 Just then cheer after cheer rolled down the line 
 from the direction of McPherson's corps. We 
 learned later that the sight of white flags displayed 
 along the rebel line had provoked these cheers. 
 
 The white flag had appeared on McPherson's 
 front at two o'clock p.m., and by noon the fact was 
 generally known along our whole line. 
 
 "We got this newspaper of them the other 
 night," said Sam, showing me a sheet printed on 
 the blank side of a piece of wall-paper. " Now, just 
 read this. ' The Yankees boast they'll take din- 
 ner in Vicksburg on the 4th of July, but the best 
 recipe for cooking a rabbit is " first catch your 
 rabbit."'" . . . 
 
 On the 4th, at ten o'clock, the rebels formed in 
 line in front of the works, stacked arms, and re- 
 turned within their fortifications, without a cheer 
 going up from the Union line. The scene was 
 pathetic to us, and, knowing how bravely these 
 men had defended their city, we respected them. 
 
 After sick-call that morning I went down to my 
 regiment, and, to my astonishment, found thera 
 
282 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 formed in line ready to march away. I learned 
 that the whole corps had received marching orders.-* 
 " What is the matter ? " I inquired of the colonel. 
 
 " General Sherman says we are going to clean 
 out Joe Johnston now," was the reply. " I'd like 
 to go into Vicksburg, but duty is duty." 
 
 With a rousing cheer for the capture of Vicks- 
 burg the Fifteenth Army Corps began its march 
 again. 
 
 Vicksburg had fallen, and in the expressive 
 language of our good President, Abraham Lincoln, 
 " The father of waters flowed unvexed to the sea." 
 Thirty-one thousand six hundred prisoners were 
 surrendered, one hundred and seventy-two cannon, 
 sixty thousand muskets, and four thousand small 
 arms, the largest surrender of men and material 
 ever made up to that time in the history of war. 
 
 After the fall of Vicksburg and its corollary, 
 Port Hudson, which surrendered to Banks on the 
 8th of July, the Mississippi was wholly in poses- 
 sion of the Union army, and formed a line of sep- 
 aration between the eastern and western members 
 of the Confederacy. 
 
SCENES AROUND VICKSBURG. 283 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 SCENES AROUND VICKSBUEG. 
 
 After the surrender, tlie entire garrison, com- 
 prising over thirty thousand men, were paroled 
 not to take up arms again until declared exchanged 
 by the proper authorities. 
 
 The exceptions to this were a few who refused 
 parole, preferring to go north as prisoners of war. 
 
 On the 6th I got a pass and went into the city, 
 which I had a great curiosity to explore. 
 
 It was a novel sight. The people thronged the 
 sidewalks, Union and Confederate soldiers frater- 
 nizing, walking arm in arm, swapping knives and 
 sharing each other's rations, discussing the cam- 
 paign, and associating in the most friendly spirit. 
 Even the non-combatants, who were usually the 
 hardest to propitiate during the war and after- 
 wards (especially women), received us with toler- 
 able kindness. They answered our inquiries with 
 civility, and sometimes voluntarily showed us 
 things of interest connected with the siege. 
 
 Among the interesting features of conflict were 
 the caves they had dug in the hillsides and steep 
 banks as a jrotection ^against the shot and shell 
 
284 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 which daily fell into the city from our mortar-rafts 
 and gunboats. They were perfectly bomb-proof, 
 and there was often considerable ingenuity dis- 
 played in their construction. Some of them con- 
 tained fireplaces, shelves, cupboards (all of earth), 
 and in some places they were divided into three 
 or more rooms. When exposed to the air the clayey 
 earth hardened, and this added to the utility and 
 comfort of these caves. 
 
 One woman told me that there were intervals at 
 morning, noon, and night when there was little or 
 no firing, and at these times they went out for 
 exercise or prepared their meals. 
 
 The city was not so much battered as one would 
 suppose considering the constant bombardment to 
 which it had been exposed, although ragged holes 
 where shell had traversed the walls were common, 
 and I saw some buildings down by the water with 
 their gable ends to the river, that were in a dilapi- 
 dated condition. 
 
 The colored people were very jubilant, and very 
 grateful for food issued. 
 
 The citizens, especially the old men who consti- 
 tuted the large majority of male citizens, seemed 
 relieved by the surrender. They accepted govern- 
 ment rations with more avidity than thankfulness. 
 The women did not express so much gratitude as 
 one might have expected under the circumstances. 
 I heard them bitterly declaiming against General 
 Grant and the Yankee Government as they yet 
 called the United States authorities. 
 
SCENES'^lRpUND VICKSBURG. 285 
 
 On the 7th our hospital was removed to the 
 high land near Vicksburg because of more healthy 
 conditions, and this enabled me to visit the city 
 daily. 
 
 Two or three days after the surrender, as I 
 was rambling around the place, I was attracted 
 by a chorus of magnificent negro voices singing a 
 song with which I had years before become famil- 
 iar, '' Roll. Jordan, Roll." I stopped on the outskirts 
 of the crowd to listen a moment, when one of the 
 colored n.en began to exhort, and as the earnest- 
 ness of tl e speaker arrested my attention, I still 
 lingered. The speaker began by saying, "• My 
 mars'er is Jesus. I want no other mars'er, 'case 
 he's so good ; he was like a li'le chile ; and de 
 Word say, ' Ob such am de kingdom.' For de 
 Scripture say, 'Cept ye become as a li'le chile ye shall 
 not see de mars'er. Years ago, bredren, I lef dis 
 home o' bondage, and wur born to freedom. I 
 trabble up dis great Missippi ribber to St. Paul; 
 not St. Paul de prophet, but St. Paul de city, dat 
 am set on a hill. A white man tuck pity on me ; 
 dat were like Jesus, 'case he war like a li'le chile, 
 he nebbtr t'ink any one tell lie to him. So he 
 tuck me at my word like a li'le chile ; fed me, hid 
 me, and helped me to freedom ; and ob such are de 
 kingdom up dar. De t'ings of heaben are revealed 
 unto babes, 'case day don' know what bad means; 
 dey's clar ob it like dat good man." 
 
 Something in the earnest vibration of the 
 
286 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 speaker's words touched me deeply, and the nu- 
 merous " Amens " and " Glorys " vociferated by the 
 audience showed that his words were understood 
 and appreciated by them. For the first time the 
 speaker turned his face towards me, and then I 
 understood. It was Aleck ; older, more bent and 
 careworn, but the same Aleck I had known eight 
 years before in my dear prairie home. 
 
 I made my way through the crowd to speak to 
 him ; but he did not know me, as in the interval I 
 had grown from youth to manhood. 
 
 When I made him understand that I was, as he 
 called me, " young Massa Clifton," he clasped me 
 in his strong arms as if I was still a child, and 
 while the tears ran down his black cheeks, he ex- 
 claimed, " Bress de Lord fur dis sight to my ole 
 eyes. It's Massa Clifton's chile ! It's Massa Clif- 
 ton's chile ! Dat man I tole you of who is like a 
 li'le chile, he's so good of heart." And then paus- 
 ing he exclaimed, "But de good Lord! how ye's 
 growed ! " 
 
 After a few more words of explanation to his 
 sable audience he fell on his knees, saying, " Let 
 us pray ! " and I am not ashamed to say that I 
 got on my knees with those humble men and 
 women. 
 
 Though the congratulations and manifestations 
 of regard were rather overwhelming and patroniz- 
 ing, yet I am sure their expressions of good-will 
 were as sincere as any I have ever received in my 
 life. 
 
SCENES AROUND VICKSBURG. 287 
 
 We had withdrawn from the crowd at last, and 
 Aleck had begrun to tell me about his life since he 
 was kidnapped back into slavery, when a cold, 
 commanding voice interrupted him, exclaiming, 
 " Aleck! Aleck ! I say, boy I Aleck I " and com- 
 ing across the street was a man in the uniform of 
 a Confederate officer. 
 
 " Who is that, Aleck ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Dat ar's Massa George. He's powerful towsy 
 ob late ; he keeps sayin', Massa George does, since 
 de surrender : ' Boy, we's 'lowed to tuck our ser- 
 vants wid us.' " 
 
 " Why, Aleck ! " I exclaimed, " you are free ! 
 President Lincoln issued a proclamation in Janu- 
 ary giving you all your freedom, — all the slaves." 
 
 The officer heard these last words, and glancing 
 coldly and suspiciously at me, he said, " Aleck, 
 what are you talking to this man about ? Come 
 along, boy ! " 
 
 I was so exasperated and angry at his assumed 
 ownership of Aleck, as well as by a certain look 
 or tone of assumption of superiority, that I ex- 
 claimed, " We soldiers have some rights here as well 
 as yourself, sir ; " and here for the first time I looked 
 him squarely in the face. I gasped in absolute as- 
 tonishment and exclaimed, "It is the spy Wild 
 Dog!" He had the same yellowish stiff beard and 
 thin face, but yet the expression seemed different. 
 
 The Confederate turned a trifle paler, but did 
 not avoid my eye as he said, " Who might you be, 
 sar?" 
 
288 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 "I? I am Sergeant Clifton, at your service. 
 Who are you? " I replied rather brusquely. 
 
 He was respectful enough in words, but with a 
 look of sarcasm and hauteur., he said, " I am Cap- 
 tain George Spring of the Confederate army, sar, 
 and presume that you will not entice this boy away 
 with you, as I have a pass given me by your su- 
 periors allowing him to accompany me outside the 
 Union lines. Come along, Aleck ! Come along, 
 boy!" _ _ 
 
 I replied angrily, " He is not a boy, but a man ; 
 not a slave, but is free, sir ! " and I held on to 
 Aleck, refusing to let him go with his assumed 
 master. 
 
 Just then a mounted officer of our army riding 
 down the street, I called out to him. He rode up 
 to the sidewalk, saying, "What is it? What's 
 going on here, sergeant ? " I saw that it was Gen- 
 eral John A. Logan, whom his men often affec- 
 tionately called " Black Jack." 
 
 In a few words I informed him of the situation, 
 and added, pointing to Captain Spring, " He is a 
 spy, general ! I saw that man inside our lines 
 at Camp 'Can't Git-away,' and again at Shiloh 
 dressed as a citizen." 
 
 " 'Fore de Lord, I reckon not, Massa Clifton, I 
 reckon not ! " interrupted Aleck. 
 
 General Logan's face had grown dark with 
 anger, while the Confederate officer, whose reddish 
 bristling beard seemed to give greater pallor to 
 
"I am Captain George Spring of tlie Confederate army." 
 — Page 2SS. 
 
SCEiXES AROUND VICKSBURG. 289 
 
 his face, with flashing eyes exclaimed, " It's a lie, 
 general ! I can explain it all." 
 
 He assumed an air of boldness and candor not 
 at all in keeping with the sly, watchful expression 
 I had formerly observed, and which now began to 
 make me doubtful of his identity with the Confed- 
 erate spy, or " Wild Dog " as Peter had called 
 him. 
 
 Some of Logan's division were in the street ; and 
 he ordered them to bring the officer to his quar- 
 ters, and also told me to bring Aleck with me to 
 that place, where he promised to make an investi- 
 gation of the facts. 
 
 Accompanied by Aleck, at five o'clock that 
 evening I presented myself at General Logan's 
 quarters. There I found Captain George Spring 
 and several officers of his regiment, by whose testi- 
 mony he showed that he had been continuously 
 with his regiment since its organization ; and to my 
 astonishment, when General Logan questioned 
 Aleck he corroborated these statements by saying 
 that he had been Sj)ring's body-servant for several 
 years, during which time he had been with him 
 daily except when in battle. 
 
 At which Captain Spring, looking towards me, 
 said in a tone of triumph, " Are you satisfied ? " 
 
 I said to General Logan, " There's some mistake 
 about the spy." Turning to Captain Spring, I said, 
 " I am satisfied about that part ; but will you ex- 
 plain how it was that after being wounded and 
 
290 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 taken prisoner, and paroled with the inmates of the 
 hospital at Shiloh, you violated your parole and 
 escaped ? " 
 
 For a moment an angry flush overspread his 
 face ; but then as he evidently saw that I did not 
 intend an insult, but simply wished for an expla- 
 nation, lie replied, " I was not wounded at Shiloh, 
 My horse was shot and fell on me, and I was 
 stunned and hurt for a time." 
 
 " And you got away after being paroled?" 
 
 " No ; that's a mistake ; only the sick and 
 wounded were paroled ; I was neither. The 
 medical director (Lyle) said the terms were not 
 binding on me, and I took a horse and rode 
 away, and was glad to do so," said he, laughing 
 at the remembrance. 
 
 "Are you satisfied?" he again politely inquired. 
 " If so " (bowing to General Logan) " the boy and 
 I will be going." 
 
 " Yes, I am satisfied with your explanation. 
 There has been a misunderstanding; but there 
 can be none about the fact that Aleck is a free 
 man ; is there. General ? 
 
 Captain Spring had taken Aleck by the sleeve, 
 when " Black Jack," removing his cigar from his 
 mouth, said to Aleck, " You needn't go ; you are a 
 free man, and can go where you like. If you 
 choose to go with either of these men no one will 
 hinder you." 
 
 Aleck had sidled nearer and nearer to me as if 
 
SCENES AROUND VICKSBURG. 291 
 
 for moral support, and said, " I goes with young 
 Massa Tom ! " 
 
 " You hear this man's decision," said General 
 Logan, " and will act accordingly ! " 
 
 Captain Spring said, '' The boy has been enticed 
 away. I'll appeal to your superior officer." 
 
 " Black Jack " looked blacker still as he said in 
 angry tones, " So will I ; " and turning to his desk 
 he wrote the following letter : — 
 
 Colonel Rawlins, Assistant Adjuta7it-Qe7ieral:^ 
 
 Sir, — I solemnly protest, as an officer of the United States 
 army, against the manner in which the Confederate officers 
 are permitted to intimidate their servants in the presence 
 of officers appointed to examine said servants, and also 
 against passes permitting them to go out with their mas- 
 ters. The manner in which the thing is being done is con- 
 niving at furnishing negroes to every officer who is a pris- 
 oner in Vicksburg. John A. Logan, 
 
 Major-General, U. S. A. 
 
 After this I went with Aleck to get what he 
 called his " propurty." 
 
 When the captain found that he could not get his 
 servant into the rebel lines with himself he sub- 
 mitted more gracefully than I expected he would, 
 although he showed some anger at first at what he 
 called enticing away his servant. 
 
 " He can go with you, if you can entice him," I 
 said. 
 
 " Massa George," said Aleck humbly, " I'se 
 'bliged to yer, but Massa Clifton and de general 
 1 This is a genuine letter. 
 
292 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 says Fse free, and I wants to try freedom some 
 more ! " 
 
 "Haven't 1 been a good master to you, Aleck?" 
 said Captain Spring. 
 
 "Yes, Massa George, yer has: I'm 'bliged ter 
 yer. I'se mighty fon' ob you, but I'se don' glad 
 I'se got freedom, fer, Massa George, suppose yer 
 got killed and yer brudder Leroy got me agin, 
 whah'l become of Aleck den?" 
 
 The captain was silent for a moment, and his 
 head dropped as if this were a home thrust. Then 
 in a most manly way he replied, putting his hand 
 on Aleck's shoulder, "Aleck, you may be right. 
 For a bright boy like you freedom may be prefer- 
 able. I wouldn't like for Leroy to get his hands 
 on you again ; for although he is my brother, he is 
 not a good master." Then turning to me he said, 
 "Aleck has always been a good boy; he would 
 never have left us but for my brother, who treated 
 him roughly and sold him to a rascal. None but 
 gentlemen should own servants, sar." 
 
 "Is not slavery all wrong? " I asked. " Does it 
 not take away a man's self-reliance and self-will 
 and leave him as a child? " 
 
 The captain said pleasantly, " That's the Yankee 
 way of looking at it. Yet we find that when the 
 Northern men become masters, they are more ex- 
 acting than Southern gentlemen. We own ser- 
 vants as a convenience, not as a means of making 
 money." 
 
SCENES AROUND VICKSBURG. 293 
 
 Before we left, Captain Spring spoke pleasantly 
 with Aleck, gave him a silver piece, and said, " I 
 wish I had something more to give you. You have 
 been a good servant. I don't like to turn you 
 loose among these Yanks without anything to be- 
 gin life with." 
 
 "Bless yer, honey, I has my ban's and self," 
 said Aleck. " I'm mighty sorr}^ to leab yer, Massa 
 George, but I reckon I wouldn't like to fall into 
 de ban's ob Massa Leroy." 
 
 The captain departed, bowing stiffly to me, and 
 I was sure my opinion of him had gone up fifty 
 per cent since our first interview. 
 
 That evening Aleck gave me some of the details 
 of his life since he left us eight years before. He 
 explained many things that I had not understood. 
 
 Leroy Spring was a reckless speculator, rover, 
 and gamester. He had plied his vocation as a 
 gambler on the Mississippi river boats, and had 
 been among the Indians of the Northwest and at 
 military stations on the frontier, as a trader. It 
 was on one of his visits to St. Paul that he had 
 recognized Aleck, and had determined to kidnap 
 and afterward to buy him cheaply from his mas- 
 ter, and make some money by that method. 
 
 When Aleck, with the assistance of the old cap- 
 tain of the steamboat, had escaped, Leroy Spring 
 advertised for him and he was soon captured. 
 Whether Spring had ever bought him of his 
 former owner he could not tell. He took him to 
 
294 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 New Orleans after his brother George had twice 
 interfered to save Aleck from punishment. Aleck 
 showed me his back, which was covered with scars 
 caused by whipping and pickling. He said, 
 "Massa Leroy was a right smart hard man when 
 he was drunk. Massa George say one day, ' Le- 
 roy, you no gentleman. Dat Aleck good boy if 
 he have good master.' Massa Leroy say, ' Hum ! 
 better buy dat boy, and set him Christian zample ; 
 he'll run away, bet yer hunderd dollars. Yer got 
 ter keep him down, to keep dat boy. He too smart 
 fer a nigger I ' Massa George he say ter me, ' Aleck, 
 if I buys yer an' treats yer well, will yer be a right 
 good servant and not run away ? ' An' I say, ' Massa 
 George, I promise 'fore de good Lord I'll nebber 
 run away till I changes massas.' An' I kep' my 
 promise. I'se been powerful tempted to run to de 
 Yankee army since de war began, 'case I reckon I 
 know what kin' o' folks dc}^ is. Massa George 
 done trus' me, an' I don' know 'bout de wirtue ob 
 leabin' him now ; but I reckon, Massa Tom, de 
 owner ob dis. Aleck is changed, and I tink I'se 
 boss ob dis nigger myself arter dis yere time." 
 
 Notwithstanding Aleck considered himself 
 " boss of Aleck," he followed me about for a 
 time like my shadow. He worked around the hos- 
 pital waiting on the surgeon, but refused to be- 
 come the servant of any one, although he had 
 plenty of chances to get employment at good 
 wages in that capacity. 
 
SCENES AROUND VICKSBURG. 295 
 
 It was on tlie 27th of July that I was discharged 
 from the hospital and ordered to report to my regi- 
 ment, which was twenty miles east of Vicksburg, 
 where the Fifteenth Army Corps was then holding 
 the line of the Big Black. 
 
 Before I left Vicksburg I was astonished to re- 
 ceive a visit from my big brother-in-law, Jonathan, 
 who had been shipped as he called it in the navy, 
 and had been promoted to be a master's mate. I 
 introduced Aleck to him, and he offended me by 
 saying, " He's a very common-looking nigger, 
 Tom ! " He had a letter from father, full of 
 news about those near and dear to me. Father 
 said that the war had carried away most of the 
 young men from the settlement, and that he was 
 compelled to hire Indians and foreigners and stay 
 at home to superintend them. He regretted that 
 the privilege of doing something for his country 
 was denied him. I had written to him about find- 
 ing Aleck ; but he had not yet received the letter, 
 or at least he did not state that he had. 
 
296 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 AFTER VICKSBURG AND KNOXVILLB. 
 
 After the incidents narrated in the foregoing 
 chapter I wrote to my father an account of Aleck's 
 reappearance. I received an answer which showed 
 that my letter had created great interest in Lake- 
 view, where the story of Aleck's disappearance was 
 well known. My father wrote that if Aleck was 
 willing I might send him to the settlement at his 
 (my father's) expense, where he would guarantee 
 him steady employment at good wages. 
 
 I read the letter to Aleck who, with much intel- 
 ligence and feeling, replied that the war had now 
 become the colored man's war, and he believed 
 duty required him to fight to secure the freedom 
 given to his people by Mr. Lincoln's proclamation, 
 which it seemed he had read and discussed with 
 his people. 
 
 I laughingly said, " There is no mistake, Aleck, 
 but you have got the war fever and want to be a 
 hero." 
 
 " Can't tell," said Aleck, whose ideas of heroes 
 seemed to be rather mixed; " maybe I'll git to be a 
 ossifer." 
 
AFTER VICKSBURG AND KNOXVILLE. 297 
 
 " Yes, Aleck," I replied ; " but you'll find that 
 knapsacks are heavy and long marches and fight- 
 ing desperately dangerous and disagreeable." 
 
 Aleck soberly replied, " I 'speck de day o' jubi- 
 lee will come tru' sorrer and de red sea o' trouble. 
 War means kill, kill all de time, an' when I hear 
 dem gunboat shells comin' an' sayin' wTiar-r-r ish- 
 h-h he-e-e noiv-iv-u\ I'se mighty skeered and like ter 
 git into de bum proof ; but I'se got used to dem 
 shell, and dey carn't scar me no mo'." 
 
 " Well," I said, " I will write to my father and 
 tell him you would rather stay here." 
 
 " Massa Tom," said Aleck reproachfully, " I'se 
 like to see Massa Clifton powerful, an' dat yer sod 
 house, and dem mules and bosses, an' be a Ian' 
 owner, but 'pears like it am my duty to tote de 
 burden ob my people fro' de Ian' o' bondage." 
 
 " Sort of a Moses," I said; "is that it, Aleck? " 
 
 Aleck's voice broke and his eyes filled with 
 tears, as he said, '' Massa Tom, yer makin' fun o' 
 dis yer boy, but I means it, an' befo' dis war am 
 ober I may fin' m}- wife and li'l chile." 
 
 I felt that the brave fellow was right and told 
 him so. 
 
 Several colored regiments were forming at Vicks- 
 burg at this time, but before Aleck enlisted I got 
 my discharge from the hospital and he accompa- 
 nied me to see '• Massa Peter " and " young Massa 
 Matt." My knapsack was rather heavy ; and as 
 Aleck offered to >• tote " it for me, I thought it 
 
298 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 would be a good breaking-in for his war experience. 
 He had not carried it over a mile when he showed 
 signs of distress, and finally, as we halted to rest, he 
 said, " Massa Tom, 'pears to me dat knapsack 
 made of lead or hab a right smart lot ob bricks 
 in it." 
 
 So, notwithstanding his shame-faced protest, I 
 strapped it on my own back, and, as long use had 
 accustomed me to the burden, was not a little 
 proud to show Aleck how easily I carried it. 
 
 We found the regiment occupying a comfortable 
 camp near a magnificent grove. General Sherman 
 had his headquarters tent pitched here near a house 
 occupied, we understood, by some Southern friends 
 of his. 
 
 It is needless to say that Matt and Peter (as well 
 as other comrades) gave me a hearty welcome. 
 
 They did not at first recognize Aleck ; but when 
 I told how I had accidentally met him, it became 
 the talk of the regiment, and the boys treated him 
 as well as if he had been white. 
 
 "Why," said Matt, " it would read like a story 
 if it was put into print." The first evening in camp 
 Matt told us about the attack on Jackson, where 
 Peter had won his sergeant's warrant once more. 
 
 During the time we remained, Peter and Aleck 
 were constantly together, and it was plain that 
 Aleck reverenced Peter's stripes and chevrons. 
 He was very reluctant to part from us, but finally 
 left our camp, and in a few days I received a letter 
 
AFTER VICKSBURG AND KNOXVILLE. 299 
 
 written in a cramped hand, of which the following 
 is a copy : — 
 
 " Dun gon 'listed in cullud reg'ment, 24tli fur corpural. 
 
 Aleck." 
 
 It was in the very heart of the summer, July 28, 
 when I rejoined my regiment. 
 
 Until September nothing seemed to break the 
 monotony of the situation except occasional skir- 
 mishes with guerillas and detachments of the en- 
 emy's cavalry, who were observing the line of the 
 Big Black. Then the intelligence came that Bragg 
 had beaten Rosecrans and driven him into Chatta- 
 nooga, where, the railroad in his rear being inade- 
 quate to supply him with stores, his army was in 
 danger of starvation. 
 
 On the 27th our division, commanded by Gen- 
 eral Giles Smith, began its march, reached Vicks- 
 burg on the 28th, and there embarked on boats for 
 Memphis, which latter place on account of the scar- 
 city of fuel for our engines, we did not reach until 
 October 2. During the voyage we burned most of 
 the rail fences along the route, and a large amount 
 of green wood, in getting up steam enough to reach 
 there even at that tardy date. 
 
 We then pushed forward to Corinth, and from 
 thence to luka, near where we were engaged in re- 
 pairing the railroad, when an incident occurred 
 which caused us to take a speedy departure. 
 
 On the 27th of October, while I was sergeant of 
 the guard at luka, we arrested a queer and dirty 
 
300 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 individual who was attempting to cross the camp- 
 guard line without a pass. He had a dark beard 
 which covered his mouth and chin, and was dressed 
 in mixed clothing, as if he had picked it up at ran- 
 dom. He wore a Union blue dress-coat with the 
 buttons gone, gray trousers, a light slouch hat 
 pulled down over his eyes, and was barefoot. He 
 spoke with a queer mixture of Southern accent and 
 Irish brogue. 
 
 There was something strangely familiar in his 
 voice, though rack my brain as I would, I could 
 not remember that I had ever seen him before. In 
 answer to all inquiries he would say, " I done gone 
 want to see General Sherman, sure I've got a big 
 letther fer him." 
 
 Finally we conducted him to the general, who 
 chanced to be seated on the porch of a house near 
 by. Without words he handed General Sherman 
 a dirty official envelope. The general opened and 
 read it, and exclaimed in evident surprise, " Where 
 did you get this? Where did you come from ? " 
 
 " Got it," he replied, " from General Crook." 
 
 " But how did you get here ? " 
 
 " Come down the Tennessee over Muscle Shoals, 
 rebel guerillas poppin' at me all the way. Re- 
 ported to General Blair and he sent me to you." 
 
 Here the dirty individual gave a sharp glance at 
 me as if he more than half suspected my confusion, 
 and then coolly helped himself to a chair beside 
 our general. 
 
" Where did you get this ? Where did you come from ? " 
 — Paire 300. 
 
AFTER VICKSBURG AND KNOXVILLE. 301 
 
 The general nodded to me, saying, " He's all 
 right, sergeant ; you can go." With a strange 
 impression upon me that I had known him some- 
 where before, I left the queer individual talking 
 familiarly with the general. 
 
 That same night we got orders to pack up and 
 at early morning the whole division was in motion. 
 As we marched along I saw this stranger riding 
 with the general. I called Matt's attention to him, 
 but he thought he had never seen him before. I 
 did not see him again until we were near EUton, 
 when he rode his horse near our company and spoke 
 a word to Matt, who looked up with such startled 
 surprise as almost to cause him to drop his mus- 
 ket. At the same moment this man started up his 
 horse and rode rapidly awaj^ down a cross-road, and 
 that was the last we saw of him at that time. 
 
 Matt still looked in open-mouthed astonishment 
 after him ; and when I inquired, "What is it ? " he 
 replied, " Why, that's Michael Ryan I that's the 
 spy ! " Then it came upon me like a flash — yes, 
 it's Mike, it's Pike. 
 
 " Some one ought to speak to the general about 
 him," said Matt ; " he's a dangerous man ! " 
 
 Peter said nothing, but shook his head. It was 
 finally agreed that when we halted I should tell 
 the general about Michael Ryan, alias Pike. 
 
 It was a peculiarity of General Sherman that a 
 common soldier could address him without rebuff, 
 although he was sometimes di^stant to officers. Af- 
 
302 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 ter we halted I approached him and requested an 
 opportunity to speak to him. I then briefly stated 
 what I knew about Pike, and said I thought it my 
 duty to warn him. The general smiled and said, 
 " It's all right, sergeant. Pike is a good man, — 
 a scout, spy if you will, but on the right side. He 
 brought me an order from General Grant," and 
 then in an undertone, as if to himself, said, " a 
 strange man, full of disguise, ready for any dan- 
 gerous duty." Looking up again he said cordially, 
 " Thank you, sergeant ; no danger from him ; he's 
 gone." 
 
 "What's the matter, Tom?" said Matt, as I 
 came up to him. " You look as if you had been 
 euchered." 
 
 So I told Matt the conversation I had had with 
 General Sherman, and we agreed that the contra- 
 dictory characteristics of Michael Ryan were puz- 
 zling. 
 
 The message which the scout brought to Gen- 
 eral Sherman (so I have since learned) read as 
 follows : — 
 
 "Drop all work on the railroad east of Bear Creek ; push 
 your command towards Bridgeport until you meet orders. 
 
 U. S. Grant, Major Gen'Z." 
 
 General Grant had been ordered to Chattanooga 
 and was now in command of the armies of the 
 Ohio, the Cumberland, and the Tennessee, with 
 which to defeat and drive out Bragg who was hold- 
 ing this point. 
 
AFTER VICKSBURG AND KNOXYILLE. 303 
 
 To assist in furthering Grant's designs \^'e now 
 began a forced march of over five hundred miles, 
 over miserable roads, through the enemj-'s country, 
 until finally, on the 20th of November, we reached 
 the Tennessee River, near Chattanooga. 
 
 Without pausing for rest, on the 21st we left 
 our camp equipage and knapsacks, and taking with 
 us only two days' rations and a single army blan- 
 ket to each man — literally stripped for the fight — 
 we crossed the Tennessee to co-operate with the 
 other forces in attacking the Confederates who 
 were besieging Grant at Chattanooga. 
 
 On the 22d, under cover of the hills, we moved 
 to North Chickamauga, and on the 23d, at mid- 
 night, took possession of the bridge boats which 
 were gathered at that point, and silentl}" dropped 
 down stream below the mouth of Chickamauga 
 Creek. Here we embarked, returning the boats to 
 the other side of the river for a fresh supply of 
 troops. 
 
 By daylight eight thousand men had been landed 
 on the east banks of the Tennessee, ready to attack 
 the rebel position at Missionary Ridge. 
 
 No mere statement of these circumstances can 
 convey an idea of the hardships which our brave 
 men had endured up to this time. Although it 
 was cold, our shoes and stockings had literally worn 
 from our feet, and Matt quaintly said that he had 
 only the outline map of a shirt on his back. Peter 
 had made a pair of moccasons for himself and a 
 
304 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 pair for me ; but I should be ashamed to tell in 
 polite society of the dirty and dilapidated con- 
 dition of 1st Sergeant Thomas Clifton in other 
 respects. 
 
 My regiment, on being landed on the east bank 
 of the creek, stealthily moved along the shore and 
 captured all but one of the rebel pickets. Mean- 
 while a bridge, 1,350 feet long, had been speedily 
 made from the boats and placed across the mouth 
 of the Chickamauga Creek. 
 
 It was raining a steady, dreary drizzle, and we 
 had scarcely a dry thread of clothing on our backs, 
 when at one o'clock we moved forward under the 
 cloak of the low clouds that concealed us from the 
 enemy, to capture the Mission Hills. 
 
 The head of our column, covered by a line of 
 skirmishers, crept up the steep heights and had se- 
 cured the summit of two hills, of which Mission 
 Hills were a continuation, before the enemy awoke 
 to the movement. Then, '•'- whiz ! hang!'''' their 
 shot and shell came ploughing down the hill. 
 We had, however, succeeded in getting our artil- 
 lery up the heights and were able, as Matt said, 
 " to give them a bit of satisfaction in return." 
 
 We began at once the work of intrenching on 
 these hill-tops, and continued it all night, leaving a 
 brigade in each position. 
 
 About four o'clock the enemy opened on our 
 brigade (which formed the left flank of this force) 
 sharply with artillery and musketry. During this 
 
AFTER VICKSBURG AND KNOXVILLE. 305 
 
 action its general, Giles Smith, was wonnded and 
 left the field. 
 
 If ever I saw a cold place it was, in s^jite of our 
 bivouac fires, on those hills that night. The morn- 
 ing dawned clear and frosty. 
 
 At the rising of the sun the bugle sounded the 
 " forward." As the blue lines advanced, there was 
 a flashing of sunlight on polished arms, then the 
 crackle of musketry, and lines of white sulphur 
 smoke marked the enemy's position and our 
 own. 
 
 During a moment's halt we beheld below us the 
 beautiful amphitheatre of the Chattanooga ; the 
 Tennessee River like a silver horseshoe gleaming in 
 the light encircling Moccasin Point ; the city be- 
 yond ; the movements of troops marching to posi- 
 tion, and all around the grandeur of its encircling 
 hills lent to the scene romance and beauty. 
 
 A hill with an intervening valley separated us 
 from another of the same series, with steep wooded 
 sides and narrow crest. At its farther end, in a 
 breastwork of logs against which fresh earth had 
 been thrown, were seen the enemy. On a hill which 
 rose still higher than the one above the railroad 
 tunnel they could be seen in great force. 
 
 In the gorge below and above the railroad tunnel, 
 which could not be seen from our position, ran sev- 
 eral roads. 
 
 Near here the rebels had massed a strong force, 
 and later in the day, when Sherman attempted to 
 
306 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 capture their communication with their depot at 
 Chickamauga, they poured their men through tliis 
 tunnel in a resistless tide, and swept our men back 
 in deadly defeat. 
 
 General Corse, with General Lightburn co-oper- 
 ating, advanced his men along a narrow ridge and 
 attacked the enemy from our right centre, while 
 we moved along the east base of Mission Ridge 
 connecting with General Corse, who soon gained 
 an important secondary crest where the fighting 
 became fierce and hot. Here the position was 
 held while the fight was at its height. 
 
 At the railroad embankment and tunnel the bat- 
 tle was most desperate. With our division it was 
 a close, persistent, continuous struggle. From the 
 hills occupied by the enemy there came a concen- 
 tric plunging artillery fire upon us, and from dif- 
 ferent directions the columns of the enemy were 
 seen streaming towards us. On our side there was 
 an occasional shot from Orchard Knob and symp- 
 toms of a fight at Lookout. 
 
 Our company had halted under the shelter of 
 rocks and logs. " It looks squally," said Sam 
 Ryder. 
 
 " 'Bout time fight over ! " said Peter, who had 
 been hugging the ground more affectionately than 
 he would have hugged a sweetheart. 
 
 " Tedious as shinning a greased pole," remarked 
 Jim Fowler. Matt drew a long breath as he watch- 
 fully glanced along his musket. 
 
AFTER VlCKSBUllG AND KNOXVILLE. 307 
 
 Gradually the enemy's fire ceased. The artil- 
 lery seemed turned in another direction. 
 
 " What does it mean ? " I asked. Peter pointed 
 towards Orchard Knob, saying, " Big fight ; look ! " 
 
 A line of white musket smoke was seen curling 
 up in front of Orchard Knob, and faint sounds of 
 a conflict reached our ears. The white smoke 
 gradually extended right and left, farther and far- 
 ther, and then disappeared from our sight. 
 
 We understood something of its import then, 
 and later learned that it was the attack of Thomas 
 on the enemy's centre, which had been weakened 
 by their attack on our force. 
 
 Thomas had swept over Missionary Ridge, cap- 
 turing all the enemy's positions, and Bragg was in 
 ignominious flight. 
 
 Thomas's soldiers had, in their enthusiasm, car- 
 ried the heights without orders, and nothing could 
 stay their daring assault. Thus in battle the men 
 often took their positions and gained successes 
 which their generals did not contemplate. 
 
 The men who were in the valley told us they 
 had seen Hooker's musketry fire on Lookout Moun- 
 tain at night like the flashes of a thousand fu-e- 
 flies, without hearing a sound, and across the round 
 red disk of the moon which rose over Lookout 
 Mountain they saw phantom-like armed men 
 marching. 
 
 On reconnoitring in direction of the tunnel we 
 found it vacated by all except a large number of the 
 
308 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 dead and wounded of both armies. That night we 
 pursued the enemy, and the next morning at day- 
 light continued the pursuit. On the 30th we had 
 reached Charleston. The weather was bitterly 
 cold ; and, although we had no tents or proper ra- 
 tions, another terrible march was before us. 
 
 Burnside was shut up and besieged in Knoxville, 
 and his twelve thousand men were represented as 
 starving, and we were to be hurried eighty miles, 
 by forced marches, over villanous roads, to his relief. 
 
 For some time Peter had not been well, and dur- 
 ing this march broke down. The assistant sur- 
 geon decided that he was threatened with fever. 
 He was left by the way at a house belonging to a 
 little hatchet-faced, black-eyed widow named Per- 
 kles, whose husband, a rebel soldier, had been 
 killed at Chickamauga. She reluctantly consented 
 to care for Peter, and we unloaded our pockets of 
 greenbacks to pay her for these services. She said 
 she had money enough, such as it was, and showed 
 us a basketful of rebel scrip, copies of which are 
 here given. 
 
 On our march I witnessed one of those scenes 
 of pillage made necessary by war, the harshness of 
 which is seemingly lessened by terming it " fora- 
 ging," or " living on the enemy." The head of our 
 column came upon a country house with its barns, 
 stables, smoke-house, stacks of fodder, and other 
 evidences of thrift and abundance. The foraging 
 officer was called to the front with his party and 
 
AFTER VICKSBURG AND KNOXVILLE. 309 
 
 directed to take the wagons available for their 
 purpose, and, by going forward at a rapid pace, 
 take whatever he found needful for the army. 
 
 A full regiment accompanied him at a double 
 quick to collect food and transportation. The 
 place proved to be a perfect magazine of teams, 
 grain, meat, fodder, chickens, and cattle. 
 
 This was gathered so dexterously that, on the 
 arrival of our regiment, the new supplies fell into 
 line and moved forward without a halt of the col- 
 umn, receipts having already been given. 
 
 The distress of the household can be imagined. 
 It was not until later that we learned that this 
 estate belonged to the parents of our old acquaint- 
 ance and friend, General Preston, of the Confed- 
 erate service. 
 
 December 6, after a terrible march, we reached 
 Marysville, a short distance from Knoxville, and 
 here found that Longstreet had raised the siege 
 and marched away. 
 
 Shortly after this we marched back to Chatta- 
 nooga, having been on the move almost constantly 
 since leaving the Big Black River near Vicksburg. 
 
 The men were now destitute of proper clothing ; 
 were barefoot; all were tired and worn, and many 
 were heart-sick with hardships, but they were 
 proud of the achievements of the Fifteenth Army 
 Corps and its old commander, General Sherman. 
 
310 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 ON VETERAN FURLOUGH. 
 
 We returned from Memphis to Chattanooga by 
 the same route by which we went. On reaching 
 the house of Mrs. Perkles, where we had left Peter, 
 we found him still weak but convalescing. 
 
 The little hatchet-face Southern woman and the 
 patient were apparently on excellent terms. When 
 I asked him if he felt well enough to return to 
 Chattanooga with us, he replied, " Yes," where- 
 upon Mrs. Perkles gave him such a look as, to use 
 one of Sam Ryder's sea phrases, made Peter " take 
 back water." 
 
 We were invited to remain to dinner, and con- 
 tributed coffee and bacon as our part of the 
 meal. 
 
 When Mrs. Perkles had left the room to superin- 
 tend the cooking, Peter got out of his big chair, 
 and, after listening at the door, said to us, " Little 
 woman ' whirr ' when I say go," and then made an 
 odd gesture with his hands in imitating the ex- 
 cited flight of birds. Just then the little woman 
 came into the room, and with a motion of her 
 hands seated the big honest fellow in his chair, 
 
ON VETERAN FURLOUGH. Sll 
 
 and tucked the blanket around him as if he Avere 
 a baby. Peter submitted, though it seemed to us 
 rather sheepishly ; and by these symptoms we con- 
 cluded that he was under petticoat government. 
 
 " Captured ! " said Matt in an aside : " we have 
 got to get him out of this, or, by jimminy, she'll 
 marry him in spite of himself." 
 
 There was also a noticeable change in the 
 woman's sentiments regarding the Union army. 
 At our first meeting with her she was bitter in her 
 expression of hate towards them, and now we 
 heard but little of her dislike for " Yanks." 
 
 Once when she used the expression " Yanks," 
 Peter looked at her with such an angry command- 
 ing air that, to use Jim Fowler's expression, " she 
 wilted." When we said that we hardly dared to 
 leave Peter at her house for fear of guerillas, she 
 straightened herself up, and her eyes snapped as 
 she said, " I reckon not, stranger ; they won't gob- 
 ble him while I'm hyre ! " 
 
 I wish I could reproduce the inflections of her 
 voice, and the idiom peculiar to Tennessee with 
 which she spoke, for it meant determination and 
 fight in such an emergency as a guerilla attack. 
 
 On reaching Chattanooga we went into com- 
 fortable camps once more, and entered upon a 
 much-needed season of recuperation and rest. 
 
 About three weeks after this Peter made his 
 appearance, looking much improved, and I could 
 see that he was glad to be with us once more. 
 
S12 TOM CUPTOK. 
 
 Not long after this we saw a queer little figure 
 in poke bonnet and straight skirts coming across 
 the parade ground. 
 
 "By all the powers!" said Matt, "but here 
 comes Madam Perkles." Peter gave one look, and 
 then sat down as if shot. 
 
 Meanwhile the madam came slowly down the 
 company street, occasionally speakiug to the sol- 
 diers who stood about, until at last, when opposite 
 our tent, she paused, and in her high-pitched 
 drawling, Southern accent called out, " Peter ! 
 Peter!" 
 
 Looking a trifle sheepish, Peter went out and 
 greeted her. 
 
 The little woman's face showed signs of break- 
 ing up into a smile as she said, " Howdy," and took 
 hold of one of the buttons of Peter's coat, and, smil- 
 ing, said, " Yer look right peart, Mr. Roy. What 
 ar' yer such a plumb fool as ter come hyre and 
 live in cloth houses fer? Yer ar' a right smart 
 sick man, FU 'low." 
 
 Just then the colonel came along, and, speaking 
 to Peter, said, " Sergeant, who is this woman ? " 
 
 Sergeant Roy saluted, and with a rough but 
 grave courtesy introduced the widow. 
 
 " What do you want of the sergeant? " said the 
 colonel with a twinkle of amusement in his eye. 
 Then, as no answer was made and the little woman 
 still clung to one of Peter's buttons, the colonel 
 added, " Do you want to marry him ? " 
 
" Sergeant Roy has something to do besides marrying, madam! " 
 — Page 313. 
 
ON VETERAN FURLOUGH. 313 
 
 Mrs. Perkles hid her face in the depths of her 
 poke bonnet and made no answer. But the col- 
 onel, as if taking silence for consent, said, — 
 
 "Sergeant Roy has something to do besides 
 marrying, madam ! " and with a smile of amuse- 
 ment in his eyes, turned away. 
 
 After this we saw Mrs. Perkles in camp occasion- 
 ally talking to Peter, and once or twice he brought 
 in a chicken, saying, " Little madam bring some- 
 thin' to eat ! " 
 
 During the spring and winter of 1864, the gov- 
 ernment offered a bounty of one thousand dollars 
 and a thirty days' furlough to such of our num- 
 ber as would re-enlist in the service of the United 
 States for another three years, unless sooner dis- 
 charged. This proposition for a time engrossed 
 our attention, and was discussed by the members 
 of our regiment. Most of us agreed with Jim 
 Fowler in regard to the war, who said, " I think 
 we're bound to see the thing through, or be killed 
 for it." 
 
 " I wonder," queried Sam Ryder, " how many of 
 us will squeak out alive if we re-enlist?" 
 
 " Got die sometime ; die fighting good 'nuff," 
 was Peter's philosophical remark. 
 
 " Our time is nearly out," said Matt. " We can 
 go home soon and re-enlist in a new regiment and 
 get commissions." 
 
 In this remark Matt had touched a sore spot, 
 for promotion had been slow among us, as inexpe- 
 
314 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 rienced men from civil life had been commissioned, 
 leaving the veterans, privates and non-commis- 
 sioned, in their old positions. 
 
 Our attachment to our regiment was, however, 
 so strong that we finally agreed that we would 
 rather stay with it than to go into any other, not- 
 withstanding the injustice complained of. 
 
 In March we " veteranized," and were soon on 
 our way home. 
 
 At St. Paul we stopped at my Uncle John's 
 over night. He had been an officer in the Army 
 of the Potomac (brevet brigadier-general), but, 
 being desperately wounded in the fight at Get- 
 tysburg, had resigned and returned to his home. 
 
 He was very proud of his military record, and 
 had a good deal to say about the superiority of 
 the " Army of the Potomac " over our Western 
 armies. Matt didn't relish this, and sharply said, 
 " It seems to me. General, that the difference be- 
 tween our Western armies and the Army of the 
 Potomac is, that we usually whip the rebels, while 
 the Army of the Potomac let the rebels whip 
 them." 
 
 At this home thrust my uncle, after uttering 
 " Humph," gave very close attention to his cigar. 
 
 All three of us, Matt, Peter, and I, had the 
 money for our veteran bounties with us, as well as 
 quite a large amount of our back pay. My uncle, 
 on learning of this, advised us to invest our money 
 in Minneapolis land. 
 
ON VETERAN FURLOUGH. 315 
 
 " I thought, Uncle Jack," said I, " that a St. 
 Paul man never recommended anything in Minne- 
 apolis ; and I've heard that the people of Minneap- 
 olis won't allow their ministers to take their texts 
 from St. Paul." 
 
 My uncle laughed and replied, " Money matters 
 and sentiment are two different things. This is 
 a matter of business, and I tell you Minneapolis 
 is going to hum with business one of these days. 
 The milling interest is going to boom it. They've 
 got a lot of hustlers over there that ain't going to 
 see things go down. There's that Washburne fel- 
 ler you met when you first came here ; he's a 
 booming it for all it's worth!" 
 
 The next day we went over to Minneapolis to 
 take the boat at St. Anthony, and while there with 
 my uncle bargained for some land. Peter was 
 rather indifferent about speculation, but put part 
 of his money into land. Uncle Jack expressed 
 his satisfaction by saying, " Hold on to that land, 
 boys, and you'll never die in the poor-house." 
 
 At last we arrived at our own familiar landing, 
 and saw my father with a double wagon, waiting 
 in anticipation of our coming. Garrison, like a 
 true abolitionist, barked at us furiously until he 
 understood who we were ; then his barks were 
 changed to whines of delight. 
 
 My father was somewhat bent and had visibly 
 aged since we last saw him, but was in good 
 health, 
 
316 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 " Your hair has grown very white, father," I 
 said. 
 
 " Yes, Tom," he replied. " I'm not sure but I 
 have suffered more from anxiety than you have 
 from hardships and wounds. You look vigorous ; 
 your wounds do not pain you now, do they?" 
 looking into my face with inexpressible pride and 
 solicitude. 
 
 "No," I replied, placing my hand on his arm 
 as I rode by his side. 
 
 My aunt and Bess came out to greet us as we 
 reached the dear home. 
 
 " Dear suz ! What a great hulkin' feller you've 
 got ter be, Tom ! I declar' ! a freak o' natur' ! " 
 exclaimed Aunt Hitty, walking around me and 
 taking hugs and pinches of snuff. Our greeting 
 was as warm as any home-coming in the land. 
 Matt went off to see his mother, but Peter tarried 
 with us. My sister Bess had grown taller and very 
 queenly and sedate, but the expression on her 
 beautiful face showed that the war had left traces 
 of sadness there. 
 
 That night we sat late around the table, talking 
 over the occurrences of the months since we had 
 met. 
 
 " Who do you think has bought a farm and is 
 going to settle here ? " asked my father. 
 
 " Uriah Johnson. He has resigned his commis- 
 sion and will settle down to the pursuits of peace," 
 said Bess in imitation of Uriah's tone. 
 
ON VETERAN FURLOUGH. 317 
 
 Among the persons in my father's household 
 was an Indian girl about eighteen years old. She 
 was the same girl whom my aunt had decorated 
 with ribbons wlien we first settled here, and was 
 the messenger who came to the settlement to warn 
 the settlers of the Indian uprising in the north-west 
 during the fall of 1862. My father, however, attrib- 
 uted the immunity of the settlers from attack to 
 the fact that he and all of the dwellers in Lake- 
 view had always treated the red men with exact 
 justice. 
 
 The next morning we viewed the farm improve- 
 ments, and then went to call on Mrs. Ryan. I 
 never saw her looking younger or stronger. She 
 had managed the farm well, and had improved it 
 very much with hired help, but had not succeeded 
 in ejecting the people who had "jumped "a por- 
 tion of Matt's and Peter's claims (about fifty acres 
 of each). 
 
 During the month we were at home we succeeded 
 in ejecting the squatters ; but as they had built a 
 very good house on the land, Peter bought that at 
 a good price, at which they expressed great satis- 
 faction. 
 
 Peter also gave them liberty to live in the house 
 until they could get settled elsewhere. 
 
 My father expressed surprise that Peter should 
 exhibit so much interest in his farm ; but he did 
 not know, as we did, of Mrs. Perkles. 
 
 There was considerable curiosity exhibited by 
 
318 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 our settlers to learn of the war at first hand. Sam 
 Ryder was kept pretty busy telling war stories ; 
 but I am afraid he did not always subordinate his 
 sense of fun to his consideration for truth, for he 
 afterwards said, " The folks ter home have got the 
 awfullest hunger fer lies of any folks I ever talked 
 to ! They'll swaller anything big in the shape of 
 a war yarn." 
 
 When Mrs. Ryan had been shown a pencil sketch 
 I had made of Michael Ryan, alias Patrick Pike, 
 she astonished us by declaring that the face was 
 familiar to her, but she could not remember where 
 she had seen it before. "• It looks like your grand- 
 father," she said to Matt. 
 
 The day for our departure and leave-taking at 
 last came. " It seems," said my father, " as if the 
 only thing that reconciles me to your leaving home 
 again is that it is your duty and my belief that 
 you are more in God's care when in the per- 
 formance of your duty than if you were at home 
 avoiding it." 
 
 The last of May, when we had reached Chatta- 
 nooga, we found that the Army of the Tennessee 
 had gone. General Sherman had originally 
 planned to await the return of his furloughed 
 veterans before starting out on the Atlanta cam- 
 paign; but, as General Grant had designated 
 May 5 as the time for beginning his movement 
 on the enemy, he had not been able to wait for 
 them. 
 
ON VETERAN FURLOUGH. 319 
 
 We were therefore sent forward by easy stages, 
 doing guard duty here and there along the route, 
 and so did not rejoin our command until several 
 battles and skirmishes of the Atlanta campaign had 
 been fought. 
 
320 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN. 
 
 On the 18th of March General Grant had 
 turned over to General Sherman the command 
 of the Western armies, while he went to Wash- 
 ington at the request of the President, to assume 
 the general direction of all the armies in the field. 
 
 General Sherman, as we have said, had not found 
 it convenient to await the return of his veterans 
 who liad received furloughs, and on the 5th of 
 May had set out on his Atlanta campaign. 
 
 The force for the execution of his task, at the 
 opening of the campaign, was 98,976 men, con- 
 sisting of the armies of the Tennessee, the Cum- 
 berland, and the Ohio. 
 
 The Confederates, meanwhile, had an army much 
 inferior in numbers, under General Joseph E. 
 Johnston, consisting of 45,000 men, but with the 
 compensating advantage of operating on interior 
 lines, in their own country, where its inhabitants 
 were their guides and spies, and which was also 
 made easy of defence by its rivers, rocks, ravines, 
 woods, and mountains. 
 
 On the other hand, as Sherman advanced into 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN. 321 
 
 the enemy's country, he was constantly obliged to 
 diminish his original force for guards, at all im- 
 portant points, while the enemy received a corre- 
 sponding accession of force by picking up his 
 detachments and guards, rendered needless as 
 he fell back nearer his base of supplies. 
 
 He also had railroads opened in his rear, by 
 which he received re-enforcements and supplies. 
 Added to this was the zeal of a blind, unreason- 
 ing energy which is infused into a warlike peo- 
 ple when an invading army penetrates their 
 countr3^ 
 
 As the territory over which Sherman advanced 
 was easily defended, he marched from his base at 
 Chattanooga to make a feint or threaten his ad- 
 versary's front, while he made his real attack at 
 Resaca, eighteen miles in the enemy's rear. 
 
 This movement compelled General Johnston to 
 abandon Walton and fight at Resaca, where we 
 lost 2,789 men in battle. From thence the enemy 
 fell back to Allatoona. 
 
 After repairing his railroads, Sherman, knowing 
 the strength of Johnston's position, attempted to 
 flank it, and get to Atlanta by way of Dallas ; but 
 Johnston was soon aware of the movement, and com- 
 pelled our army, on the 25th and 28th of May, to 
 fight at Hope Church and Pickett's Mills, in which 
 engagement the enemy, though defeated, inflicted 
 heavy loss on our army, and fell back to Marietta, 
 with Brush Mountain on his right, Kenesaw on 
 
322 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 his centre, and Lost Mountain on his left. There, 
 finding his lines too extended, he shortened them 
 by concentrating at Kenesaw. 
 
 Such was the situation on our arrival. 
 
 Various causes had delayed our arrival at the 
 front ; and by reference to my note-book I find 
 that we reported for duty in the field at Big 
 Shanty, Georgia, on June 16, 1864. 
 
 At that time the fighting along the line was 
 incessant, for the Union army had closed down on 
 the enemy's strong position in battle array, repair- 
 ing the railroads to their very camps ; the skir- 
 mishers were in actual contact, and our batteries 
 and line of battle but little in rear of them. 
 
 From the time of our leaving Chattanooga the 
 weather was extremely uncomfortable, in that it 
 rained most of the time. I find in going over my 
 note-book that we had over twenty days of rain, 
 with but little intermission during that time. 
 
 On the 19th we went on picket-duty in the rain, 
 and shortly afterwards discovered that the Confed- 
 erates had evacuated their first line of works, and 
 had fallen back to the mountain. 
 
 Our regiment, thinned by disease and the cas- 
 ualties of battle, at that time numbered only three 
 hundred men, and was commanded by a senior 
 captain, a man of great courage, who was a ser- 
 geant when I entered the regiment. He was 
 formerly a railroad engineer, and believed in fight- 
 ing rather than in marching or in manoeuvres; for, 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN. 323 
 
 as Matt said, fighting was something he could 
 thoroughly understand. 
 
 As the enemy fell back we followed him up, and 
 intrenched ; but our work did not seem to be of 
 much use against a plunging artillery fire from 
 the higher land, to which we were subjected, and 
 against which our intrenchments seemed but little 
 protection. 
 
 "Worse Vicksburg!" was Peter's exclamation, 
 which indicated that he was not entirely satisfied 
 with the situation. 
 
 " It rains all the time in this doo-g-oned coun- 
 try ! " said Jim Fowler, shaking himself like a 
 Newfoundland dog just come out of the water. 
 
 " Yes," said Matt, " chunks of cast-iron, lead, 
 and water." And just as he was saying it a shell 
 exploded in on.r rifle-pit, killing the only man 
 lying down under shelter of the embankment. 
 
 Nothing further of importance occurred, except 
 the constant firing, until Saturday the 25th, when, 
 in the afternoon, just as we were expecting a little 
 quiet (for the enemy had " slowed up," as the cap- 
 tain said), we were moved to the right about five 
 miles, to the southern point of Little Kenesaw 
 Mountain. Here we made ourselves as comforta- 
 ble as possible ; and, after a soldier's breakfast, the 
 captain commanding came down the line, saying, 
 " Boys, we are going for 'em, right up there ! " point- 
 ing at the same time towards the mountain. See- 
 ing, possibly, the gloom or doubt in the faces of the 
 
324 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 men, lie continued, "It's the only thing that will 
 make them sick ; that will restore the Union, 
 — keep giving them the best we've got in the 
 tender ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Jim Fowler, " fire up ! " and the 
 boys caught the expression, and shouted along 
 the line, " Fire up ! " and this did not seem to 
 displease our officer, for something like a grim 
 smile spread over his face, like cracks radiating 
 from a shattered window-pane ! 
 
 Skirmishers were at once thrown out beyond 
 our intrenchments, and our line of battle formed 
 about a hundred feet behind the line, which was 
 soon engaged with the enem3\ 
 
 Then the order came, " Forward ! Guide right ! " 
 
 The enemy's position was yellow with earth- 
 works, on a ridge to the right of the mountain. 
 
 One of our brigades entered the ravine between 
 the mountains, to overlap the left of the hill, 
 while our brigade, together with the fourth, moved 
 towards the enemy's intrenchments on this ridge. 
 
 We knew, however, but little of the nature of 
 this ground, though we had seen their position 
 over the tops of the trees, from a high point in the 
 rear of our line. 
 
 We went forward, picking our way over a low, 
 swampy thicket, and all the while the incessant 
 crack ! crack ! crack ! of our skirmishers, with those 
 of the enemy, went on before us. 
 
 We now began to come upon the dead and 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN. 325 
 
 ■wounded of this prelude to the fiercer conflict yet 
 to come. 
 
 Our advance was impeded by swampy land, in 
 which we mired knee-deep, and also by a dense 
 thicket, where the wild-rose vines and other 
 entanglements were so diificult that we were 
 often obliged to crawl on our hands and knees, 
 or move in a stooping attitude, to get through. 
 
 These obstructions were finally overcome ; and 
 at last we succeeded, with scratched hands and 
 faces, and wet and muddy feet, in getting on the 
 open ground in front of the enemy on the hill. 
 
 " There's their roost up there ! " shouted the 
 captain commanding, as he looked along the line 
 of his brave, bronzed veterans. 
 
 " Does he expect us," said Jim Fowler, " to 
 bunt our heads against those rocks, Sergeant 
 Matt?" 
 
 There was not a man in line but knew that 
 the task before him was next to impossible of 
 accomplishment, or a terrible one at best. Yet 
 veteran soldiers obey. They do not argue, except 
 in reluctant acts ; and they often attempt the 
 impossible in the face of certain death, because 
 they understand the importance of obedience. 
 They learn by constant examples that those who 
 serve must often die unhonored or unknown, to 
 give a final victory to their country's cause. 
 
 The hill before us was steep and rugged, covered 
 with fallen trees, precipitous rocks, and abatis, thus 
 
326 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 rendering our advance in line of battle next to 
 impossible. 
 
 We could see, a little below the crest of the 
 hill, the rebel earthworks crowded with men. 
 
 Their guns commanded the whole sloj)e, and 
 from the nature of the ground they were able to 
 pour into our advancing column a deadly flanking 
 fire that no troops could withstand. 
 
 There was scarcely time for alignment ; no time 
 to wait; for the shot were striking our ranks, and 
 we must go forward, for it was not our habit to 
 fall back from dangerous positions. 
 
 " Forward ! Drive them out of that roost, 
 boys ! " shouted our commanding officer, as, dis- 
 daining to take his place in the rear, he marched 
 at the front of the line, up the hill. 
 
 With a shout of defiance, which was answered 
 by an angry yell from the enemy on the hill, our 
 men went on. I remember that the line of men 
 bent their heads as they advanced, as if against 
 the storm of lead that swept the ground. 
 
 All in vain their valor ! The line was soon 
 more like a skirmish line broken into fragments 
 than a line of battle. Yet we went on, steadily 
 climbing up; sheltering ourselves behind rocks 
 and fallen trees, from their deadly cross-fire, before 
 which our men fell fast. 
 
 The captain commanding, and some sixty men, 
 including Matt, Peter, Jim Fowler, Sam Ryder, 
 and myself, had, for a while, sheltered ourselves 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN. 327 
 
 in a shallow ravine, just in front of the rebel 
 works. 
 
 Two of our men were killed here, and several 
 wounded. 
 
 "Catch your breath, men, and then shoot at 
 every head you see ! " exclaimed our captain 
 grimly, while his rugged eyebrows met in a scowl 
 of rage at the continued loss of his brave men. 
 
 Just a breath or two, and then the captain 
 exclaimed, " Forward in line ! Drive them out 
 of that roost, boys ! " and we dashed over the 
 intervening space, followed by some two hundred 
 men. 
 
 A perfect Babel of sounds succeeded : shouts, 
 shots, imprecations of rage, yells of pain, groans. 
 It was a whirlwind meeting the rocks ! 
 
 The captain had mounted the rebel parapet, fol- 
 lowed by several of his devoted men, and then we 
 saw him fall dead on the outer slope, with our men 
 leaping the works, and yet the rebel flag was 
 waving, and the rebels still held the line. 
 
 We had met with a bloody repulse ! Our cap- 
 tain and the lieutenant of our company were 
 wounded at the ravine, and I was in command. 
 
 " No use try again ! " said Peter, a« if under- 
 standing my thoughts. 
 
 The brave fellow had brought away a stand of 
 colors during the encounter, and yet had not re- 
 ceived a scratch. 
 
 The remainder of our men fell back from rock 
 
328 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 to rock while keeping up a steady fire on the rebels, 
 until they reached the ravine, where, sore, angry, 
 and sullen, they remained, firing on the exultant 
 foe until darkness came. Then we got back to 
 the intrenchments from which we had advanced in 
 the morning. 
 
 Our regiment's loss in this encounter was two 
 captains and twenty enlisted men killed, one cap- 
 tain, two lieutenants, and thirty men wounded, and 
 . ten made prisoners. 
 
 When men are killed in storming an intrenched 
 position with an inadequate force, when that posi- 
 tion could have been turned, it is little short of 
 murder. 
 
 When I remember the brave boys who were 
 shot down, or were made prisoners (among the 
 latter, Jim Fowler and Sam Ryder) at Kenesaw 
 Mountain, it makes me angry, because after-occur- 
 rences showed it to have been needless. 
 
 Althouofh General Sherman tried afterwards to 
 justify himself for this assault, he never did it 
 to the satisfaction of those who fought in the 
 front line at Kenesaw Mountain. 
 
 The following from my note-book will give a 
 faint idea of how lively General Sherman made us 
 move in the weeks following the occurrences I 
 have just narrated : — 
 
 " July 2. Marched eight miles to support Gen- 
 eral Schofield. 
 
 " July 3. Skirmished with the enemy, losing 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN. 329 
 
 two men, driving their cavalry two miles across 
 the Little Sweet Water. 
 
 As we went into camp that night, near a large 
 Southern house, I was attracted to a group of our 
 men gathered around an apple-tree. 
 
 " This fellow here," said Matt Ryan, calling out 
 to me, " has been doing something wrong. The 
 rebs haven't hung him to a sour apple-tree for 
 nothing." 
 
 " What fellow ? " 
 
 Matt drew nearer to the tree, and pointed to a 
 man hanging by the neck from a limb. 
 
 Peter looked at the body, removed the slouch 
 hat from over the face, but made no remark as he 
 looked at me and gestured with one hand toward 
 the unfortunate spy, Wild dog or Spring. 
 
 Pinned to the breast was a placard which read, 
 " A traitor to the Confederacy." 
 
 Later, several mounted officers came up. I 
 heard one, whom I recognized as Colonel Tuttle, 
 say, " So they caught him at last ! " 
 
 " Cauo^ht who ? " said another. " What does it 
 
 mean 
 
 ? 
 
 " This scoundrel," said Tuttle, " is the one we 
 court-martialled at Vicksburg. He would have 
 been shot in another hour if he had not scribbled 
 a few words saying he had important information 
 for our commanding general. When he was con- 
 ducted to General Grant, he coolly offered to 
 betray the correspondence of Johnston and Pem- 
 berton if he would let him go." 
 
330 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 " Yes ; and it was current talk among the gen- 
 eral officers that this man was paid large sums of 
 money for the information he brought into our 
 lines. It was said that is how Grant kept so well 
 posted as to what was going on in Vicksburg." 
 
 " He betrayed both sides probably? " 
 
 " No ; he betrayed the one that paid the least." 
 
 The next morning, when we marched away, the 
 spy was still swaying in the wind. 
 
 Singular to relate (for it is shigular that so mor- 
 bid a passion should exist in the hearts of brave 
 men), his clothing had been mostly cut away for 
 mementos. 
 
 " Ugh ! He bow to me ! " said Peter with a 
 superstitious shudder, as we marched on once 
 more. 
 
 " July 4. Supported the Sixteenth Army Corps 
 in the advance. ' 
 
 " July 5. Remained in reserve. 
 
 " July 8. Moved to Nickajack Creek. 
 
 " July 9. Intrenched. 
 
 " July 11. Marched to Sweet Water Creek to 
 cover flank of the army. 
 
 " July 12. Moved eight miles to the left, pass- 
 ing through Martinsville at daybreak on the 13th, 
 thence eighteen miles to Roswell. 
 
 " July 14. Crossed the Chattahoochee River 
 and intrenched. 
 
 " July 15. Advanced six miles to Nancy's 
 Creek. 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN. 331 
 
 " July 18. Marched five miles towards Stone 
 Mountain. 
 
 "July 19. Tore up the track of the Augusta 
 railroad, then marched to Decatur, seven miles more. 
 
 " July 20. Moved three miles along the railroad 
 and intrenched at night. 
 
 "July 22. The regiment has advanced half a 
 mile, captured some rebel intrenchments, and is 
 now, at two p.m., engaged in remodelling them." 
 
 I find no memorandum after this for several 
 days, for reasons which will presently be seen. 
 
 At shortly after two o'clock the enemy appeared 
 in our front, and certain indications showed that 
 they intended to assault our position. 
 
 At about three o'clock p.m. the enemy came 
 on in one dense column, which seemed to outnum- 
 ber our force three to one. Our regiment was 
 flanked on the left, and this compelled the larger 
 portion of our men to fall back, leaving some 
 twenty men, including Matt and myself, with the 
 colors (which Peter carried) cut off from the main 
 line. 
 
 Our forces had been so persistently set to the front 
 during the advance of the enemy, that we did not 
 notice when the line gave way on both right and 
 left, in season to fall back with it. We soon found 
 ourselves in such an exposed position that we could 
 not retreat. As Matt said, " The Rebs had us 
 under the supervision of their rifles entirely." 
 
 Every time we raised our heads above a slight 
 
332 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 baiTicade we had erected on our right and left, 
 '•'•'ping^'' '•'•ping" hummed the bullets in remon- 
 strance. We were at first too proud to surrender 
 and in too tight a place to run. 
 
 If there is anything that sends a man's courage 
 down to zero, it is to be caught under a galling 
 fire, when the utmost ingenuity fails to discern an 
 opportunity to back out. 
 
 Twice the enemy rushed upon us and were 
 driven back, leaving their dead and wounded 
 around our breastwork. We heard the shouts of 
 our men meanwhile, cheering as if charging the 
 rebels, which encouraged us to hold out. 
 
 Peter soon after took the flag from the staff, 
 tore it into twenty pieces, and distributed it among 
 the men. " That shows Avhat Peter thinks," says 
 Matt. " What shall we do ?" Just then, as if in 
 answer to the interrogation, the enemy came upon 
 us in such numbers that we surrendered and were 
 sent to the rear. 
 
«/iV THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY." 333 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 "IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY." 
 
 After being captured we exchanged the usual 
 joke and chaff, which in ordinary intercourse 
 amongf men mio-]it be called insults. 
 
 " We uns ar' a-lickin' you uns a right smart 
 ter-day ! " said one of them. 
 
 " Look here, Reb ! I don't believe it's going 
 to be much of a shower after all," replied Matt 
 humorously. " You've got lots to do to lick our 
 uncle Billy Sherman." 
 
 " We uns have killed you uns biggest general 
 right out yer," pointing to the woods on our right. 
 
 " Who is it ? What general is it they've killed ? " 
 I inquired, somewhat startled. An officer here 
 replied, " General McPherson ; he was killed in 
 those woods there." 
 
 I did not believe this intelligence then, bnt learned 
 later that it was true. The Union Army and the 
 Army of the Tennessee, which he commanded at 
 the time of his death, had lost that great and noble 
 man, whose patriotism and skill, fearless courage 
 and kind heart, endeared him to all who knew 
 him. There was, I afterwards learned, mourning 
 
334 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 ill the hearts of the humblest of our army ; for by 
 his many manly qualities he had endeared himself 
 to them all. 
 
 " What's that cheering ? " we inquired of the 
 same officer. 
 
 " Your people have driven our men back, I am 
 afraid," said a young soldier near. 
 
 The weather was exceedingly hot, and the 
 exciting campaign we had passed through since 
 starting out from Chattanooga, with its attendant 
 hardships, had left me depressed mentally, and 
 physically much worn out. I was also chafing 
 with great impatience since being made a prisoner, 
 for I had just been commissioned as first lieuten- 
 ant, a place I had been acting in for some time 
 since the fight at Kenesaw Mountain. 
 
 Our men were all much in the same condition 
 of depression ; for terrible stories had been told to 
 us by prisoners who had reached our lines the 
 week previous, after escaping from " Anderson- 
 ville Prison." 
 
 We were now marched to the rear and placed 
 under a new guard. Something of gloom must have 
 appeared in our faces, for the young and hand- 
 some sergeant of the guard said, " It is the for- 
 tune of war; I'm sure it's not your fault! " The 
 tone and the words were sympathetic. 
 
 I learned by conversation with him that he was 
 a Georgian, and that the regiment he belonged to 
 was from that State. A fine body of men, much 
 
"IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY." 335 
 
 above the average Confederates' I had ever seen in 
 the field, acted as our guard; they shared their 
 rations with us, and, with few exceptions, treated 
 us so pleasantly, that a looker-on who did not 
 know our relations would not have thought us 
 prisoners under guard. 
 
 Though my musket and other arms had been 
 turned over to the enemy, I yet retained my haver- 
 sack, canteen, and knapsack ; for all three of us 
 from choice still carried the last-named article, 
 though men of the Army of the Tennessee had 
 largely discarded them, and wore simply their 
 blankets, in which were rolled their needful gar- 
 ments and other necessaries. 
 
 One of our guard was a stubbed little Georgian, 
 with an ugly scar on his face, and who had been 
 wounded at Vicksburg. At some remark made 
 by one of our number, uncomplimentary to the 
 Vicksburg soldiers, his face turned pale with wrath, 
 which for a moment boded ill for the one who pro- 
 voked it. 
 
 " I reckon," said he, " yer wouldn't say that if 
 you had been thar." 
 
 The laugh was rather against the Yank who 
 made the wrath-provoking remark, for he was com- 
 paratively a new recruit, who had joined us on 
 the Big Black, after Vicksburg. 
 
 When Matt told him that we were all at Vicks- 
 burg, with the exception of the offending soldier, he 
 became good natured and friendly at once, and said, 
 
336 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 " You uns used us right well thar, Yank, and I'm 
 going to use you just as well as I know how." 
 
 I made some inquiries about General Preston, 
 when he said, " He commands our division ; what 
 do you know about him ? " I informed him we 
 were acquainted with him before the war, and 
 that he had been a good friend to Matt when he 
 had been taken prisoner at Shiloh. 
 
 " I wonder," said Matt, " if General Preston 
 couldn't get us paroled if we could see him." 
 The young sergeant, who overheard this talk, said, 
 " If General Johnston were in command, a parole or 
 special exchange might be possible ; but General 
 Preston is on bad terms with General Hood, who 
 has just taken command of our army. Hood is 
 said to distrust all former friends of General 
 Johnston. He is a brave man, but not very 
 pleasant to those who disagree with him." 
 
 On our way to Atlanta he made some ver}'- in- 
 telligent inquiries regarding public sentiment at 
 the North. I told hiui plainly that outside of a 
 few Copperheads, who called themselves Peace 
 Democrats, the sentiment was very general in favor 
 of continuing the war until the South was brought 
 back into the Union. 
 
 " I suppose you are a Black Republican," he 
 said interrogatively. Matt replied for me, " Yes ; 
 he believes in human rights for everything hu- 
 man, even nio'sfers." The rebel serg^eant, after a 
 few moments, said thoughtfully, " Yes, and it 
 
"IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY." 337 
 
 seems right as a mere statement that we should all 
 be in favor of human freedom. I suppose I should 
 have been a Black Republican if I'd been born 
 at the North." 
 
 " If man not blame being black, is God blame? " 
 said Peter with a stern look at the sergeant. 
 
 Peter felt that this distinction of color, that God 
 has made, ought not to be urged against a man, 
 and hence this speech or interrogation so unusual 
 to him. 
 
 The Confederate soldier turned toward Peter 
 and said courteously, "You Northern men don't 
 understand us. We've got slavery, and were raised 
 with it. Only a few men South consider it right, 
 whatever they may say in the heat provoked by 
 discussion. We do, however, assume, that it is 
 less an evil among us than it could possibly be with 
 Northern men, if they should become slave-holders, 
 for we do not, as a class, try to make money out of 
 everj'thing we have." Then after a pause, he said, 
 " We prefer to deal with our own affairs in our 
 own way without interference. If separated from 
 the North, could we not manage these questions 
 better than now, when constantly irritated by its 
 discussion by those who do not understand it? 
 When the South has gained its independence, very 
 likely it will then begin a system of general eman- 
 cipation." 
 
 In reply to doubts I expressed of this, he said, 
 " At any rate, the discussion of our affairs has 
 
338 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 angered our people, and has made them a unit in 
 supporting the war. We should take more liberal 
 views if we were not interfered with." 
 
 I replied, " Your politicians stir up this feeling." 
 I also pointed out to him the constant political 
 aggressions of the South : the abrogation of the 
 Missouri Compromise ; the fugitive slave act ; 
 making hunting-grounds of free territory, and 
 similar acts, to which he replied, — 
 
 " The politicians did this ; they claimed it was 
 made necessary in order to give the South an even 
 chance with the North. They excited the preju- 
 dices of our people, and drove us into this terrible 
 war, which we now feel compelled to sustain with 
 all our power to the bitter end. There were a 
 good many who -did not originally think it politic 
 or right to dissolve the old Union, but finally, 
 being obliged to adopt one side or the other, 
 naturally went with our own people. We are 
 done with the old flag forever now ! " Here 
 the conversation was interrupted by a change of 
 guard. 
 
 I shook hands with this young Confederate sol- 
 dier, who impressed me with having many manly 
 qualities. I do not remember meeting a young 
 man on either side who so favorably impressed 
 me with modest and grave but friendly manners. 
 
 Among the Confederates I met during the war 
 there seemed to be less careless light-heartedness 
 and a more subdued gravity than among similar 
 
"/iV THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY." 339 
 
 men in our own ranks. Is it a natural trait of 
 Southern men, or did the war produce this sober- 
 ing effect? 
 
 Tlie new guard was composed of boys from four- 
 teen to eighteen years of age, while some I should 
 judge were as young as thirteen. They were very 
 unlike in manners and speech those who had pre- 
 ceded them. With here and there an exception, 
 they were evidently from the class termed in the 
 South, " Low down people, " or " poor whites." 
 
 One of these boys shot one of the prisoners 
 not twenty minutes after being placed on guard. 
 I did not learn the full cause, but understood it 
 was for a trivial breach of orders. 
 
 As we marched through the streets of Atlanta 
 very little curiosity was shown by its people. A 
 few small boys on a fence shook their little fists 
 and threw stones at us, and in treble tones said 
 something about blamed Yanks ! Here and there 
 a military lounger called out, or a group of women 
 turned their heads to glance at us. Yankee pris- 
 oners marching through the streets had evidently 
 become too common to excite curiosity. 
 
 I bought two loaves of wheat bread from a 
 woman who was either passing with a basket of 
 loaves or had it for sale on the street. The fact 
 that most impressed me was, that she much pre- 
 ferred Yankee greenbacks in payment, to Confed- 
 erate money, or local scrip. 
 
 I gave half of one of these loaves to the guard, 
 
340 TOM CLIFTON., 
 
 who was eying it hungrily, and in return received 
 corn-bread. This act seemed to have inclined him 
 to be friendly with me ; for while we were halting 
 on the sidewalk he advised me to roll my blanket 
 and put inside of it such things as I desired to 
 keep, as my knapsack would probably be taken 
 from me. 
 
 Atlanta seemed a beautiful place. It was built 
 upon tableland, surrounded by parks, shaded walks, 
 and fine residences. Evidences of wealth were 
 seen on every side, and well-dressed men and 
 women walked the streets. 
 
 Upon our arrival, there was quite a group of 
 ladies near the depot, apparently expecting friends. 
 The women of Atlanta manifested much contempt 
 for Yanks. I did not care to be spit at by the 
 most beautiful women with the rosiest lips. 
 
 The provost marshal who here took charge of 
 us was very consequential, and, as Matt said, con- 
 sidered himself a swell. We were marched through 
 some of the principal streets, and, when halting at 
 one time, a few well-dressed women in carriages 
 showed their devotion to the Southern cause by 
 cheering for Jeff Davis and General Hood. We in 
 return cheered for General Sherman and President 
 liincoln, and then gave three more for General 
 Grant. 
 
 The greatest confidence was expressed by some 
 of the people on the sidewalk of their ability to 
 whip the Yankee army. We were finally marched 
 
"IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY." 341 
 
 into an enclosure, half an acre in extent, surrounded 
 by a board fence twelve or fifteen feet high, in 
 which there were over a hundred other prisoners. 
 Here some Indian meal and bacon were issued to 
 us. 
 
 There was no shelter, there were no fires, and, 
 had there been, it was so dark and we were so 
 fatigued that we should have been indisposed to 
 cook, although very hungry. 
 
 Here our knapsacks and other things not in our 
 blankets were taken from us, the airy provost mar- 
 shall remarking in his oratorical manner, " Confis- 
 cated to the Confederacy as war material ; " and it 
 amused us when he absent-mindedly made this re- 
 mark on taking away Peter's fine-toothed comb. 
 But Peter looked very angry, as he said scornfully, 
 " Needs it more Peter does." 
 
 The next morning, with two hundred other pris- 
 oners, we were marched to the railroad station, 
 under guard, and put on board of box cars to be 
 sent to Andersonville, the mention of which, even 
 then, thrilled us with inexpressible horror, for we 
 had heard terrible stories of it from the lips of es- 
 caped prisoners. 
 
 There were five car-loads of prisoners in the 
 train ; but although there were forty or fifty men 
 each, on most of the cars, we noticed that there 
 w^re not more than twenty on the car we occupied, 
 and but two sentinels on top of this car, while one 
 sat inside before the open sliding door at the side. 
 
342 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Finally the train started on its way southward, 
 and our hearts fell at the possible fate in store for us. 
 
 The young Confederate soldier who sat at the 
 broad entrance of our car could read and write, and 
 was evidently of a better class than the majority 
 of our guard. A portion of his time during the 
 day was spent in reading a New Testament and in 
 croning over a small song-book, the tunes of which 
 were mostly familiar to the soldiers of our army, 
 with the words changed to Southern use. 
 
 The Yanks soon joined in singing these tunes, 
 the reb soldier using his own version, and we the 
 words in common use among us. 
 
 When the two versions conflicted, as, "We'll 
 hang Abe Lincoln to a sour apple-tree," while we 
 sang, " We'll hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple-tree," 
 the effect was ludicrous, and the young Confeder- 
 ate seemed a little disgusted. 
 
 Matt was not a good singer ; he could sing very 
 loud, but not very well. Sam Ryder once face- 
 tiously said Matt could sing right along side of a 
 tune and not hit a note, and that it didn't matter 
 what the tune was he varied his singing but very 
 little for it. But Matt never seemed to understand 
 that he was not as good a vocalist as the very best. 
 
 Our progress was slow, and for four or five hours 
 during the day we were switched off while waiting 
 for supply-trains to pass. At that time we w^e 
 allowed to get off to cook food and stretch our 
 legs. 
 
"/iV THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY." 34o 
 
 Our car was hot and uncomfortable, being ven- 
 tilated only at the doorway; but as the sun declined 
 it became cooler, and we went slowly jolting along 
 through the Southern pine land that skirted the 
 road. The passing shadows of these tall pines, and 
 the monotonous jolting, with the singing of the 
 guard, soon lulled me into a profound sleep. 
 
844 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 A PKISONER LOOSE IN DIXIE. 
 
 A SUDDEN jolt of the cars awoke me, when I 
 found that Peter had changed his position and was 
 sitting near the Confederate- guard, while Matt 
 passed me a slip of paper, on which I read, " Peter 
 and I think of gagging that reb and jumping the 
 train. What do you think ? " I nodded my head in 
 assent. Peter glanced at me inquiringly, and I 
 nodded my head once more, and in another instant 
 he had thrown his brawny arm around the neck of 
 the guard, and soon had him gagged and tied hand 
 and foot. 
 
 There were some protests against this proceed- 
 ing from the timid ones in the car. One said, 
 " You'll get us all killed ! " but an angry, threaten- 
 ing motion from Peter, who was at the doorway 
 and who had the guard's musket, silenced these 
 outcries. 
 
 The young rebel soldier evidently did not expect 
 any mercy, for he moved his eyes in mute appeal 
 from one to the other of us. 
 
 " He's about my size," said Matt. " I guess I'll 
 
A PRISONER LOOSE IN DIXIE. 345 
 
 swap clothes with him, though mine are a little 
 the best." 
 
 "What's that for?" I inquired. 
 
 " Why," said Matt, " I'ni goin' to turn myself 
 into a reb and stand guard." 
 
 " Just thing," said Peter with a nod of agree- 
 ment, as if such a proceeding was the most natural 
 one in the world. 
 
 When the reb was dressed in Matt's uniform, 
 and Matt in rebel gray, and Matt had changed 
 places with Peter at the doorway, and assumed 
 the rebel's musket, haversack, and song-book, we 
 thought it an improvement. 
 
 The clothes fitted him so well that when the 
 soft gray hat was pulled down over his eyes the 
 transformation was complete, and I could hardly 
 realize that it was not the original Confederate 
 guard. 
 
 " Good reb nuf," said Peter approvingly. 
 
 We now began to discuss whether it was best to 
 jump from the car then, or wait until it should be 
 darker, when the train began to slow up, and 
 finally stopped. 
 
 "It won't do to jump now, anyway," said a big 
 Massachusetts man named Shaw, who had been 
 acting with us. " We've got to play this hand out, 
 if we don't take a trick." 
 
 Just then the sergeant of the rebel guard came 
 up, and, addressing our supposed guard, said, 
 " Hardy, we are a-goiu' to issue the Yanks some 
 
346 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 grub fixin's here, I reckon. '"* Then seeing the 
 bound man near the doorway, said, " You mustn't 
 let tlie Yanks get so near the door." 
 
 " Dead Yank," Matt replied. " Just died." 
 
 " Well, put him off here. Get the Yanks to 
 help you. They won't run away, I reckon, with 
 the guard on top thar ready to pop at 'um." 
 
 Rations of water and uncooked Indian meal and 
 cow pease were soon issued and divided among 
 our men. Matt was careful to let the sergeant of 
 the guard do most of the talking. 
 
 " I'll stand here by the door while that big 
 Yank helps you carry out the dead one," said 
 the rebel sergeant. So in the darkness Matt and 
 Peter laid the bound reb by the side of the road. 
 The reb struggled very unlike a dead man, but it 
 was too dark for the sergeant to observe this. 
 
 He then left us, and the train began to move, 
 when, one after another, we jumped unperceived to 
 the ground, and glided into the darkling woods. 
 
 '' Easy rolling off log ! " said Peter com- 
 placently. 
 
 " Sure," said Matt, with a lapse into Irish 
 dialect, which was common with him when under 
 excitement, " sure if they'd stopped the cars 
 twenty minutes sooner, the Old Nick wud a-been 
 to pay, and I'd got paid for bein' a Confederate. 
 I felt as guilty as a dog, seeing that poor chap 
 layin' there with his feet tied, and Peter's dirty 
 handkerchief stuffed into his mouth." 
 
A PRISONER LOOSE IN DIXIE. 347 
 
 On getting into the woods our first procedure 
 was to hold a consultation about our route of 
 travel. It was then agreed to break up into small 
 parties, each to use his best judgment in en- 
 deavoring to reach our lines. 
 
 Our party consisted of the big Massachusetts 
 man, named Shaw, whom I have before mentioned. 
 Matt, Peter, myself, and a little Tennesseean, who 
 relied upon us so much that we had not the heart 
 to refuse him. 
 
 " Get way from here quick," said Peter. 
 
 " Yes," said Matt ; "we must walk all night, 
 for they will get after us the first thing in the 
 morning, if not before." 
 
 That night we travelled through the woods in 
 what Peter said was a north-west direction. This 
 he determined by occasionally examining the 
 branches of the trees, and by glimpses of the 
 stars. We walked in single file, with Peter in 
 advance, and Matt with his musket bringing up 
 the rear. 
 
 The hicrh rollinor land seemed to lie in beds, 
 with a ravine on one side and a swamp upon the 
 other. 
 
 Rain began to fall during the night, and towards 
 twelve o'clock it came down in torrents, drenching 
 us to the skin. Later it cleared, and the stars 
 came out. 
 
 We went on, with occasional rests, until day- 
 light, when we halted to cook rations and get some 
 
348 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 sleep. Then for the first time Matt examined the 
 rebel haversack, and found in it a large knife, 
 about two pounds of bacon, two pones of Indian 
 cake, about five pounds of wheaten flour in a cotton 
 bag, and also some salt, and a bunch of red pep- 
 pers. "Good for nothing," said Peter disdainfully, 
 throwing the peppers aside ; but the little Ten- 
 nessee comrade said, — 
 
 " If the dogs get after us fellers, they are just 
 the thing to rub on the bottoms of our shoes to 
 throw them off the track. ' Dogs don't like red 
 pepper a bit." 
 
 We had never heard this theory before, and do 
 not even now know whether it is true or false, but 
 it certainly is one entertained by many who ought 
 to know. 
 
 We found a place where we thought we could 
 safely do our cooking, in a little ravine well con- 
 cealed by foliage. Here we fried bacon, cooked 
 some cakes, and then, wearied with our night's 
 pilgrimage, slept so soundly that it must have 
 been three o'clock in the afternoon when we woke 
 and resumed our travel through the dense woods. 
 I had with me a book-map which, if not very 
 minute, gave us a good general idea of Georgia, 
 Tennessee, Alabama, and North and South Caro- 
 lina. This map I had carried for some months, 
 the better to understand the country through 
 which we were campaigning. 
 
 Before night we came to a low and level region, 
 
A PRISONER LOOSE IN DIXIE. 349 
 
 stretching far out on onr front, right and left. 
 The night fog settled near the ground, giving the 
 country the appearance of a lake. 
 
 Here we encountered tall weeds of the Southern 
 lowland, through which we forced our way with 
 difficulty, as they were wet with dew and high 
 above our heads. 
 
 After getting through them we came to higher 
 ground, which proved to be ploughed, with field 
 after field of the tall, white stalks on which grew 
 Southern corn just in the milk. We filled our 
 haversacks with it for future use. 
 
 " Get out here soon as can," said Peter. 
 
 " Yes," responded the big Massachusetts man ; 
 " it's too civilized to be safe here ; " and this re- 
 mark was just then emphasized by the barking of 
 dogs and the voices of people at a house near us, 
 which we could not see. 
 
 We now made haste towards a piece of thick 
 woods. Passing out of this we came to a hedofe 
 of cane-brake, so compact and interlaced that it 
 was impossible to make any progress, except by 
 following huge Peter, in single file. 
 
 We then reached a stream, and travelled along 
 the banks to find a fording-place, but finally crossed 
 it on a log. 
 
 The river here made several abrupt turns, which 
 necessitated our crossincr it aofain, if we held our 
 course to the north, so Ave took up our line of 
 march farther towards the west, to avoid it. 
 
350 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Twice during the following day we heard dogs, 
 and once, while I was standing guard as my com- 
 rades slept, men passed along a cart-path not far 
 from us. 
 
 For the two nights following we travelled, but 
 lay concealed during the intervening day. On the 
 fifth day out, believing there was but little danger 
 of being recaptured, we travelled during the day 
 and also part of the night, keeping away from 
 roads and clearings as far as practicable. We, how- 
 ever, procured green corn from the fields for food. 
 
 I think it was the seventh day after our escape, 
 when we struck a swamp, very dense and hard to 
 penetrate. 
 
 I was nerveless and worn out, and too weak to 
 travel. In debating our plans with Nevins, the 
 Tennesseean, and Shaw, they both insisted that 
 our only safety consisted in keeping to the swamps 
 and woods and away from roads and dwellings. 
 
 But Matt and Peter both felt that it would be 
 impossible to pursue this course any longer, as I 
 was breaking down. I urged them to abandon me 
 and save themselves, but Peter declared that they 
 would not do so. 
 
 After some debate, Nevins and Shaw said they 
 would strike out for themselves, and leave us to 
 pursue our own course. So we separated from 
 these two men with many expressions of good 
 will on both sides. 
 
 Then it was that Matt proposed a new role; viz., 
 
After separating fioiii Xevins and Sliaw, we travelled on the roads 
 in a north-west direction." — Pa^e ool. 
 
A PRISONER LOOSE IN DIXIE. 351 
 
 that he should personate a Confederate soldier 
 guarding two Yankee prisoners. At the same time 
 it was agreed that we should come in contact as little 
 as possible with the people. That night, after sepa- 
 rating from Nevins and Shaw, we travelled on the 
 roads in a north-west direction. 
 
 It was clear, .hot, and starlight. The first night 
 on the road we went to sleep on some hay stacked 
 in a field, and slept so soundly that the morning 
 was dawning before we awoke. 
 
 After again settings out we reached a brook 
 which ran across the road, where, going into the 
 wood a short distance, we refreshed ourselves with 
 a good bath, and filled our canteens. 
 
 I tried very hard to keep up that day, but, after 
 following the boys as well as I could for a time, 
 began to grow dizzy and sick and to stagger at 
 every step. Peter looked at me sorrowfully, and 
 then got me into the cool woods where I rested, 
 with a blanket under my head for a pillow. A 
 dinner was here improvised, but I couldn't eat. 
 " 'T won't do," said Matt. " I believe I shall have 
 to give an order on the Confederacy for a dinner 
 and a warm bed." 
 
 As I was burning up with heat, I saw but little 
 need for more of that ; but I felt that rest would 
 be acceptable, for I trembled with weakness. 
 
 Again setting out, we soon met an old man on 
 horseback accompanied by a negro driving a mule 
 team. Matt halted and, speaking roughly to Peter 
 
352 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 and myself, said to the stranger, " I've got two 
 Yanks yer, and I'm goin' to Atlanta with um." 
 
 " Why don't yer go to Macon ? " interrogated the 
 old man. " That's nearer than Atlanta." 
 
 " Well," said Matt, " my regiment is at Atlanta, 
 and I'm just a-goin' to get these Yanks thar ! " 
 
 After some further conversation, Matt asked if 
 he could get a good dinner at his house. The man 
 replied that we could, and when we reached there 
 we did get a satisfying meal of fried chicken, bacon, 
 and Indian cake. 
 
 I did not have much appetite, and the woman of 
 the house said compassionately, " The young man 
 is sick. ! " To which Matt replied, "I suppose the 
 Yank is human, but I can't think so, since he is an 
 enemy of our glorious country." 
 
 "You're Irish, are you not?" asked the old 
 planter. 
 
 "No; I was born in Ireland," said INIatt with a 
 laugh ; " but if I'd been born in a crockery-shop, 
 should I've been a dish ? " 
 
 After dinner Matt made considerable parade in 
 taking out his song-book. He asked the planter if 
 he would like to hear a bit of music called " When 
 this cruel war is over." 
 
 When Matt began his alleged song his howling 
 was so ludicrously unmusical that I could not keep 
 from laughing, and even Peter, with an unusual 
 grin of amusement, said, " More howl dan music ! " 
 at which Matt frowned on him in true rebel style. 
 
A PRISONER LOOSE IN DIXIE. 353 
 
 Some hot tea was given me by the woman, and 
 she exhibited so much sympathy that I could not 
 help thinking she must have a son in the Confed- 
 erate army. 
 
 Matt was very rough with us until out of sight 
 of the house, when he resumed his old manner. 
 
 I braced up for a while after this, but by three 
 o'clock that afternoon gave out again. My knees 
 trembled, and my stomach seemed suspended by a 
 thread. In this emergency, in spite of my protest, 
 Peter picked me up and carried me as he had often 
 done when I was a twelve-year-old boy. 
 
 There was a restf ulness communicated to me by 
 Peter, whether springing from his tender-hearted 
 sympathy, or from the ease of his motions, or other- 
 wise, is not material, for I went to sleep in his arms 
 while being carried, and on awaking found myself 
 on the greensward before an aristocratic mansion 
 of Southern type, with its customary surroundings 
 of mud-chinked negro quarters and outbuildings. 
 
 When Matt, with his musket over his shoulder 
 went to the house, striding alongside his giant 
 companion, taking two steps to Peter's one, I re- 
 member of thinking him very like many other Con- 
 federate boy soldiers I'd seen. 
 
 Shortly after this they returned and carried me 
 to the veranda, where there were three people. 
 One was a kindly looking man seventy years of 
 age, or thereabouts, verj' polite ; a quiet, well- 
 dressed dame, and a young miss of sixteen, one 
 
354 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 of the most beautiful of the type of the Southern 
 brunette I had ever seen. 
 
 The lines of her face, I noticed even then, were 
 regular, though her chin was rather prominent, and 
 her nose had just a piquant turn upward, suggest- 
 ive of mischief and humor. Her eyes were large, 
 dark, and bright, and had in them a concentrated 
 power which people call magnetic. Her hands and 
 feet were small and beautifully shaped. I noticed 
 these things at a glance, sick as I was. " Put the 
 boy in the hammock," said the old gentleman. 
 
 We had been seated but a little while when 
 Matt produced his song-book, and howled the 
 " Bonny blue flag," " Mother, I've come home to 
 die," and " We'll hang Abe Lincoln to a sour apple- 
 tree," with a voice that Peter had already intimated 
 had "more howl than music." 
 
 The scene was so ludicrous that, though sick, I 
 could not restrain my laughter, at which there went 
 up a ripple of laughter from the young girl, and a • 
 hearty ha! ha! ha! from the old gentleman. 
 Matt scowled at this and was really angry, as he 
 pointed to me and said, " Shure thar's no music in 
 that Yank." 
 
 The old gentleman was here interrupted by a 
 servant coming to the veranda with " his medicine 
 case, from which he gave me a liberal dose of pills 
 and quinine. 
 
 " It's 'time we were moving now, Yanks," said 
 Matt to us ; and then to our host, " Shure, sir 
 
A PRISONER LOOSE IN DIXIE. 355 
 
 and madam, accept my thanks for your hospi- 
 tality." 
 
 I made an effort to get out of the hammock, but 
 turned faint and sick in the attempt. 
 
 " This young man must not travel in his present 
 state of health," said the old gentleman compas- 
 sionately but decidedly, and then added, " While 
 I do not claim to be a practitioner, I yet have a 
 good knowledge of medicine and also of symptoms, 
 and I assure you this young man needs rest and 
 medical treatment." 
 
 I thanked him and said, " We must not trouble 
 you too much ; but, if the guard is willing, I shall 
 be glad to accept your kindness." 
 
356 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 IN THE SWA]VIPS. 
 
 The next morning, though weak, I had less 
 fever. 
 
 A nice breakfast of eggs on toast, with coffee, 
 was brought to me on the veranda. 
 
 The young lady kindly inquired after my health. 
 I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, as this South 
 Carolina maiden stood at my chair, and gave to 
 the young colored girl a few thouglitful directions 
 for my comfort. I stammered out my thanks for 
 her kindness. 
 
 Matt had opened his song-book, and begun what 
 Peter called his howl, when back of me I heard 
 a step, and presently on looking up saw a young 
 fellow in Confederate uniform. 
 
 The old doctor, who just at that moment had 
 come to the veranda, said to the young Confeder- 
 ate, I thought apologetically, '' One of our sol- 
 diers with two prisoners; " then, placing his hand 
 on my wrist, said, " Ah, yes ; fever abated — bet- 
 ter ; — just a little more quinine ; " and he gave me 
 a dose that made my mouth pucker. Matt laughed 
 and said suggestively, " Green persimmons, Yank ? " 
 
IN THE SWAMPS. 357 
 
 The doctor and the Confederate lieutenant had 
 walked away when Peter, putting his finger to 
 his lips for silence, said, " Young reb talk," then 
 glided to the farther end of the veranda, stood in 
 that attitude of intense listening we had often 
 noticed when hunting, and then returned to us 
 and said, " Reb told old man they all Yanks," at 
 the same time making a gesture towards Matt, 
 then after a moment he said, " Night, get way from 
 here ! Now make believe happy all day ! " 
 
 I knew from Peter's face and manner that his 
 alarm was no idle matter, and from his words I 
 inferred that he wished us to throw the people off 
 their guard by appearing unsuspecting and con- 
 tented. 
 
 I told Matt what Peter had intimated, when 
 Matt replied, " That young reb looked me over 
 suspiciously and questioned me. Say, Tom ! I'll 
 capture the lot of 'um, girl and all, and march 'um 
 to Sherman's lines, if you say the word." 
 
 I think I must have blushed when Matt said 
 " girl ; " for he gave me an expressive look of 
 amusement, as I replied in a low voice, " No, 
 Matt; these people have been good to us, and we 
 mustn't disturb their home." 
 
 Matt's face changed to an expression of sym- 
 pathy, which sometimes made him beautiful, as he 
 said, "Now, shure, may the saints preserve them; 
 we'll not hurt a hair on their heads ! " 
 
 As we were conversing, the old gentleman came 
 
358 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 out on the veranda again, and Matt, approaching 
 him, said, " Sir, do you think the sick Yank will 
 have fever? " 
 
 The old man blandly regarded Matt and replied, 
 " With proper rest and food he will be able to 
 march in a few days. Si ! Si ! " called the doctor, 
 "bring my case here ! " The doctor gave me some 
 drops, saying, " He needs stimulants," and then in 
 an undertone, as if unconscious of his words, mut- 
 tered, " Mere boys ! mere boys ! when will it all 
 end?" 
 
 When captured I had preserved my sketch- 
 book, and on one of the few remaining leaves I 
 proceeded to sketch the veranda and its occupants 
 — the old gentleman in his chair. Matt with his 
 mouth open with howling, Peter grim and quiet, 
 the fair young girl and her stately mother. 
 
 The likeness of the young maiden was quite 
 a striking one, for it seemed to come from my 
 pencil without an effort. I was so intently en- 
 gaged in finishing it that I did not notice that 
 she had left her seat and was overlooking my 
 work. 
 
 I started and looked confused when she said 
 apologetically, " I spoke, but you did not notice 
 me ! " 
 
 " What is it, Marion ? " inquired her mother. 
 
 " This soldier has made such a splendid sketch ! " 
 then to me, " May I show it to my mother ? " 
 
 I took the sketch from the book and handed it 
 
IN THE SWAMPS. 359 
 
 to her. I saw the old gentleman and his wife and 
 daughter laughing quietly over Matt's portrait. 
 
 We were treated very kindly during the day. 
 
 That night the family retired early. We went 
 early also to our rest, but when the house was 
 quiet Peter roused us with a whisper, saying, " Reb 
 come back ; gobble us." 
 
 We silently made our way to the lawn with 
 our shoes in our hands, that we might not disturb 
 the household. There I was surprised to find Si 
 awaiting us with a supply of cooked food and 
 some medicine taken from his master's medicine 
 case. We silently shook hands with Si, with 
 whom Peter seemed to have a good understanding, 
 and once more started out towards our lines. 
 
 " Take to woods, swamps," said Peter with a 
 motion of his hands, when we were out of hearing 
 once again. 
 
 " Do you think the old man will help hunt us? " 
 I inquired. 
 
 Matt said gravely, " Not very willingly ; " but 
 Peter said he heard a talk between the old doctor 
 and the young Confederate, and that the doctor 
 advised the young lieutenant to let us alone. 
 Matt said he thought the young reb was not a 
 relative of the family, simply sweet on Miss Sibley, 
 for that "was the name of the family. 
 
 Upon leaving the plantation we at once made 
 for the swamp in which Si had advised us to take 
 refuge. He told Peter that there was a story, 
 
360 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 which was believed by the negroes of the neigh- 
 borhood, that several escaped slaves had at differ- 
 ent times lived in this swamp, and the difficulty of 
 reaching a fugitive here was so great that it was 
 seldom persevered in. 
 
 We reached the swamp at twelve o'clock that 
 night, at which time a white veil-like vapor over- 
 hung it. 
 
 Halting for a few moments to rally resolution and 
 strength, we entered this formidable entanglement 
 of vines, trees, briers, canebrake, bogs, and water. 
 
 At first we took our course along the borders of 
 the swamp in a westerly direction. It was very 
 gloomy : the tall, spectral trees, with funeral-like 
 festoons of moss hanging from their branches wav- 
 ing in the night breeze against the background of 
 the dim, moon-lit sky ; the ghostly vapor rising 
 from the swamp, partly defining its outlines like a 
 monster irregular cross, depressed me with gloomy 
 forebodings. 
 
 Our advance was slow, for, as if jealous of man's 
 intrusion, the tangled growths disputed almost 
 every step of progress. In addition to this, every 
 step had to be felt out with our canes before we 
 could place our feet upon the trembling, boggy sur' 
 face with safety. We stumbled and plodded on- 
 ward, however, until nearly daylight. The 
 strongest in our party was jaded, while I was weak 
 and trembling with the exertion. 
 
 At last we reached a hummock, elevated and 
 
IN THE SWAMPS. 361 
 
 dry, and free from briers, and here we rested. Our 
 feet were wet and covered with mud, and our cloth- 
 ing saturated with the heavy night dew. We 
 were too tired to eat, and went to sleep from sheer 
 fatigue. 
 
 It was nearly noon when Peter made a fii'e and 
 fried some eggs and bacon in the little pan Matt 
 had found in the rebel guard's haversack. Peter 
 climbed to the top of one of the trees to take an 
 observation, and came down with a ludicrous ex- 
 pression of discouragement on his face. Matt, not 
 satisfied, climbed the tree to look out for himself, 
 and came down more crestfallen than Peter, say- 
 ing, " No wonder Peter looked discouraged, for the 
 plantation from which we started is in plain sight 
 on the high land back of us." 
 
 Peter, who liad apparently been thinking over 
 the situation, finally said, '' Safe nuff." Matt ex- 
 plained that we had reached our position over a 
 narrow tongue of land, surrounded with swamp 
 and water, but which, in a straight line, was not 
 a mile from our starting-place. If the rebs followed 
 us with dogs we should get warning enough to 
 escape across the sluggish stream near us on three 
 sides, for any one following our track would meet 
 with the same impediments that we had. We 
 therefore determined to remain where we were for 
 a while and see if we were pursued. 
 
 The next day the only incident of note that oc- 
 curred was that some quails lit near us, and Matt 
 
362 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 fired at them, killing three, before Peter could in- 
 terfere. 
 
 " Men hear that ! " said Peter reproachfully. 
 
 "Of course," said Matt, "they know we are 
 somewhere, but others might fire guns in 'this 
 country as well as ourselves." 
 
 " Don't let us travel until we are hunted," I pro- 
 tested; "I'm too sick to scramble through this 
 swamp." 
 
 " We'll have these quails to eat anyway," said 
 Matt as he prepared them for broiling. 
 
 We remained here for several days. I was no 
 better, but, on the contrary, felt that I was losing 
 strength. The air around me was permeated with 
 a faint odor of decayed vegetation, and sickly 
 vapors, freighted with miasma, seemed to float in 
 the atmosphere. That which nourishes a rank 
 vegetation often kills man. 
 
 In any case it was agreed that we could not 
 linger here, for we were nearly out of food, and so 
 we began our travels through the swamp once 
 more. Sometimes Peter carried me over diflicult 
 places, for his vigor seemed unabated. 
 
 We halted on dry and elevated land, and here 
 my comrades took observations from the trees in 
 order to determine in what direction it was best 
 to go, that we might replenish our stock of provis- 
 ions. 
 
 They determined to leave me a while and go 
 on this errand. I was very tired and lonely for a 
 
IN THE SWAMPS. 363 
 
 few hours after they had left me, but in the after- 
 noon I went to sleep. When I awoke from a pro- 
 found and restful slumber, I looked up and saw 
 the sun higher in the heavens than when I fell 
 asleep. It was more than twenty-four hours since I 
 began my slumbers, and neither Matt' nor Peter 
 had come. I looked for my haversack, and hun- 
 grily ate of its contents of Indian cake and 
 bacon. 
 
 Where were my comrades ? Had they missed 
 their way, or had they been captured ? 
 
 Full of doubt I remained on the hummock all 
 day, when my food was consumed and I was dis- 
 heartened. I knew then that some accident had 
 happened to my comrades, or they would have come 
 back to me. Yet I had no disposition to go out 
 and surrender myself. 
 
 I now began to move forward through the laby- 
 rinth of the swamp, and, being hungry, chewed at 
 twigs which I broke off as I passed along. One 
 of these had a sharp, pungent taste, and I began to 
 imagine it invigorated me. 
 
 When it came night I lay down in the oppressive 
 silence of the swamp, and was lonesome and dis- 
 couraged enough to cry. 
 
 The next morning I folded my blanket and, 
 chewing at a twig of the shrub mentioned, began 
 to advance once more in a purposeless manner. I 
 found myself quite free from fever, but very weak. 
 
 About noon on this day I came out of a wilder- 
 
364 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 ness of cane-brake near a deep and sluggish 
 stream, and lay on the banks in sheer fatigue, 
 hunger, and perplexity. 
 
 As I was debating about my future course, some 
 hours after this, I heard the deep bay of blood- 
 hounds, and was soon satisfied that they were 
 on my track. I heard men blowing horns and 
 shouting. 
 
 Luckily I had before this time noticed a grape- 
 vine that had grown up into a tree on the opposite 
 side of the stream, and which was within reach 
 from a tree on the side on which I stood. I seized 
 this vine, and cut it off so that it would swing 
 clear of the water. It was about half an inch 
 thick. My fears gave me strength, and I easily 
 climbed it, hand over hand, like a rope. 
 
 I still heard the sounds of dogs and men. I 
 knew that in times of peril one needed all his 
 self-possession and coolness, and so I proceeded 
 with that deliberation and seeming indifference to 
 danger which sometimes seems to possess one 
 when in peril. 
 
 Ascending the vine until my feet were over the 
 water, I began to swing back and forth like a pen- 
 dulum, until I was able to clutch the tree opposite 
 with my feet and legs. Holding on to the vine 
 with one hand, I caught the tree trunk with the 
 other, slid to the ground, and quickly hid my- 
 self. 
 
 I was none too soon, for the men presently came 
 
IN THE SWAMPS. 365 
 
 out on the opposite bank. They were baffled, for 
 I heard them cursing and raging up and down the 
 bank of the stream. 
 
 Finally the sounds died away, and I was still 
 free. 
 
 I went to the water, stripped off my clothes, 
 and bathed, and then lay in the shade, deliberating 
 what next to do. One thing was certain — I must 
 get food or perish. 
 
 I was thus deliberating when I heard a move- 
 ment in the bushes near the stream. I thought at 
 first it might be a stray pig, and had determined 
 to kill it for food. The crackling grew louder, 
 and then I saw, to my great terror, a giant 
 black man coming along beside the stream. He 
 was angling, and was partly naked and partly 
 clothed in skins. 
 
 He wore no hat, and his hair was matted in a 
 grotesque mass upon his head. Wheii he turned 
 his face in my direction, I saw that it was almost 
 white, but corrugated with lines, and that his nose, 
 instead of being of the African type, was almost 
 Roman in its character. There was a savaofe de- 
 termination stamped upon his face, that made one 
 tremble. 
 
 Did I see in him my deliverance from death ? I 
 spoke, when, with a bound like a panther, and 
 with angry, startled eyes, he sprang upon me. 
 " I'm hungry and hunted, help me ! " burst from 
 my lips with despairing accents. 
 
366 rOM CLIFTON. 
 
 His aspect changed. He stopped, looked at 
 me, and then advanced with hands extended, as 
 if in encouragement, and with a compassionate 
 look on his face, saying in strangely pure English 
 for a negro, but in accents like one unaccustomed 
 to speech, " Were they hunting you ? " I made 
 no motion, but faced him, saying, " Yes, with dogs. 
 I am a Yankee soldier trying to escape ! " then 
 overcome with emotion, I reeled with weakness, 
 and fell. 
 
 " Yes ; I can feed and take care of you," were 
 the first words I heard after this, when I found 
 him supporting me, for my own strength seemed 
 suddenly to have left me. 
 
 With his rod on his shoulder and his rude 
 fishing-basket on his arm, he helped me until we 
 came to what seemed to me an impassable slough 
 of ooze and water. Holding my arm, he directed 
 my feet, and then I perceived that piles had 
 been driven until just below the water, and that 
 by stepping on their flat tops they formed a safe 
 passage over the slough, otherwise impassable. 
 " No white man's foot," said he, " ever trod 
 there before." 
 
 We soon reached an elevated spot containing 
 about ten acres, which this boggy swamp com- 
 pletely surrounded. Here, near a large live oak, 
 he prepared his fish, and, raking out some live 
 coals, which he had evidently kept covered with 
 ashes, kindled a fire and broiled them. 
 
IN THE SWAMPS. 367 
 
 I took out my little bag of salt and offered him 
 
 some, but he refused. 
 
 " Eat," he said; " it will do you good." 
 
 I ate as only a man can when half famished, 
 
 while the giant looked on in compassionate silence, 
 
 and then he said, " Come and sleep." 
 
368 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE HUT OF THE FUGITIVE. 
 
 The food I had eaten after my long fast invigo- 
 rated me, and my courage and confidence, by find- 
 ing a friend at tlie time of my seeming hopeless- 
 ness, were re-established. 
 
 I followed my black protector into a portion of 
 the swamp which was thickly studded with tower- 
 ing cypress-trees, whose trunks, like the pillars of 
 a vast temple, supported its roof of interwoven 
 branches, which were hung with festoons of Span- 
 ish moss. • 
 
 Beneath these branches the light of noonday 
 was shut out so completely, that only a dim twi- 
 light pervaded its recesses, and all around there 
 was a dark ooze of mud and water. 
 
 The silence and gloom conveyed to me a sensa- 
 tion of awe Avhich was not without a certain im- 
 press of majesty. 
 
 Except our own voices, the splash of some dark 
 form subsiding lazily into the ooze, or the screech 
 of a night bird, no sound broke the silence. 
 
 I hesitated, for I saw no passage through this 
 dark maze. The negro must have perceived my 
 
THE HUT OF THE FUGITIVE. 369 
 
 hesitation ; for he said, as if to give me confidence, 
 " Follow close to me," and then over cypress knees, 
 roots, hummocks, and fallen logs, he picked his 
 way with what appeared to me a marvellous in- 
 stinct. 
 
 At last, after a half-hour's journey, we came out 
 upon high and dry land. Here we encountered 
 such an impediment of briers and tangled grape 
 and laurel vines, that I found it impossible to ad- 
 vance farther. 
 
 "Try if you can get through der," said the 
 negro. I examined the dense mass for two or three 
 hundred yards, but found no passage, for this natu- 
 ral barricade extended across the high hummock 
 to the swamp on each side. 
 
 I thought I perceived a gleam of satisfaction in 
 the negro's face at my failure. He then directed 
 my attention to a point in the barricade, and said, 
 " Get on your hands and knees and creep along 
 these limbs. Don't get off of them, or you will not 
 get out alive ; " and then I perceived that by the 
 use of these lever-like branches the weight of the 
 mass was lifted and, as we passed over, fell back 
 into its place. 
 
 After passing several other impediments we 
 came to a cleared space on the hummock, four or 
 five acres in extent, surrounded b}^ swamps on all 
 sides. 
 
 " No white man ever came here before," said the 
 negro as he stood erect and looking around him 
 
370 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 with the air of a king, or, what is still better, that 
 of a free man and one able to maintain his freedom. 
 
 A few steps farther brought us to a picturesque 
 hut built around the base of a huge, live oak. 
 
 The rafters of the hut were fastened to the tree, . 
 and their ends were supported by uprights, and 
 the whole was interwoven with limbs and twigs, 
 basket-like, and then covered with the bark of 
 cypress-trees, overlapping like clapboards and 
 shingle, to render the hut impervious to rain. 
 
 The floor was raised some feet from the ground 
 to prevent, as he informed, me overflowing during 
 the rainy seasons. 
 
 I was very curious to know why he built the 
 hut around the base of the tree, when he showed 
 me shelves nailed around it, and then to my aston- 
 ishment showed me that the tree was hollow, and 
 that he had ingeniously cut away a portion of the 
 trunk, leaving a swinging door of its bark. This door 
 was large enough to conceal a person, and so con- 
 trived that, when shut, the whole seemed solid. I 
 also discovered that one -could enter here, close the 
 door, climb up inside the tree trunk, and come 
 out at the top, like a chimney sweep from the inte- 
 rior of a chimney. 
 
 In one corner was a clay hearth and a fireplace, 
 very neatly contrived. All this excited my sur- 
 prise and admiration. 
 
 The interior of the hut was a model of neatness 
 and cleanliness. Two large bear-skins and some 
 
A few steps farther brought us to a picturesque hut, built around 
 the base of a huge, Uve oak." — Page 37U. 
 
THE HUT OF THE FUGITIVE. 371 
 
 dry pine or cypress leaves in one corner of the hut 
 formed the negro's bed. 
 
 He kindled a fire outside, and cooked a very pal- 
 atable meal of fried fish and corn-bread, in an iron 
 pan, for our supper, and showed so great a olici- 
 tude to make me comfortable that I could not help 
 trusting him. 
 
 That night, at his request, I told him about the 
 war and its tendencies to free the black race ; 
 also of Mr. Lincoln's emancipation proclamation. 
 He seemed to have some knowledge of these 
 things, gained from the negroes with whom he had 
 intercourse from time to time. 
 
 I explained the purport of Mr. Lincoln's procla- 
 mation, and how tender his heart was for suffering, 
 lowly people. He said after a long silence, " It 
 seems like a dream. The white man's hands have 
 been turned against the black man when he dared 
 to be a man, and now they fall out among them- 
 selves and proclaim his freedom ! " 
 
 When I told him of Mr. Lincoln's life, that he 
 had once been poor and despised, he said, " Only 
 men ivho have been crushed and suffering know 
 how to pity and help other miserable men. White 
 men who own slaves look on black men as dogs. 
 They treat their dogs well, but if they disobey or 
 annoy them, they whip and kill them, when they 
 care to put themselves to so much trouble." 
 
 He then briefly told me that he had been raised 
 in Alabama as a house servant, and had been mar- 
 
372 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 ried when only twenty years of age to a young 
 woman in the family of his master, but that he had 
 afterwards been cruelly whipped and sold away 
 from home. 
 
 " Why, " I inquired, " were you whipped? " 
 
 " I am a man ; and I struck the man who called 
 himself my master for insulting my wife. Then 
 she was whipped until she died. 
 
 " There was nothing to bind me to white men 
 any longer, and I became free, and will maintain 
 my freedom until I die. No man can capture me, 
 because I will die first ; " and there was a glare of 
 suppressed and determined frenzy in his eyes, 
 though his face was immovable. A sense of free- 
 dom and manhood seemed to give a nobility to 
 this man's carriage. Is not this an inevitable 
 accompaniment of freedom that is maintained by 
 personal courage ? 
 
 In the course of our first conversations I gave 
 him an account of my army life and of my escape 
 with Peter and Matt, and also a description of my 
 home life before I became a soldier. I asked him 
 if he would not ascertain what became of my 
 comrades. 
 
 ■ He was very much interested, and said he would 
 endeavor to learn what had become of them, but 
 that he was pretty sure that they had been cap- 
 tured on going out of the swamp ; for before meet- 
 ing me he had noticed armed men lurking around 
 there. 
 
THE HUT OF THE FUGITIVE. 373 
 
 That night I slept so soundly that when I did 
 awake, for an instant, I knew not where I was. 
 Though it was before sunrise. Quash (for such was 
 the negro's name) had gone. I amused myself by 
 walking around the hummock, where there was 
 surprising evidence of his ingenuity and industry. 
 
 I found a well-kept garden, in which there were 
 growing pease, beans, sweet potatoes, Indian corn, 
 wheat, and other edibles ; while in an enclosure I 
 found tame partridges and ducks, but no hens, and, 
 as he afterwards said, " no other noisy fowl." 
 
 Upon Quash's return to the hummock he told 
 me that, during the night, he had been out of 
 the swamp, and had ascertained from some field 
 negroes that my companions had been recaptured 
 and sent to a down South prison. 
 
 One day, after rambling around the swamp with 
 Quash, I returned, and, seating myself near the 
 cabin, began to read from my Bible. I was thus 
 engaged, when I was startled to find Quash stand- 
 ing by my side. 
 
 "What do you read?" he interrogated. When I 
 answered, a sneer came to his face as he said, "My 
 old master was a preacher of that gospel. Before 
 he had a whipping he always read a chapter 
 of it." 
 
 " Do you not," I asked, " believe in Jesus ? " 
 
 Quash frowned, but made no answer. " You prac- 
 tise his teachings," I said, "if you do not believe 
 him." — "I know only one saying in that book," 
 
374 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 said Quash savagely ; " it is ' Servants, obey your 
 masters.' I liave heard that until I know it. I've 
 had it whipped into me ; but no one shall whip it 
 into me again." 
 
 "Yet Jesus told us to do just as you have done. 
 He has said, ' Do ye unto others as ye would that 
 they should do unto you ; ' and He also said, ' In- 
 asmuch as ye have done to the least of one of these, 
 even so will I do unto you.' He also said, 'A 
 good man out of the treasures of his heart bringeth 
 forth that which is good, for a good tree bringeth 
 not forth corrupt fruit.' 
 
 " Is not this a test of real Christianity, rather than 
 the profession of those who claim to be Christians, 
 and yet violate all of Christ's teachings? Was 
 your motive not a Christian one when you fed me, 
 and helped me to escape from my enemies ? " 
 
 " No," replied Quash ; " my motive was honest 
 pity for a fellow-man in distress. That is better 
 than professing to be better than poor, inoffensive 
 men. My master did not believe God created a 
 black man, except as a superior kind of brute, 
 endowed with senses of hearing and speech. Can 
 a good tree bring forth such corrupt fruit as 
 that?" 
 
 I answered him by saying that my father had 
 once said that the best testimony in favor of the 
 goodness of Christ's teachings is given by wicked 
 men, who try to make tlieir fellow-men believe 
 they are guided by him ; for men do not counter- 
 
THE HUT OF THE FUGITIVE. 875 
 
 feit worthless, but valuable, things. Hypocrisy is 
 the tribute of bad men to Christianity. They 
 profess to have this good, and try to make up in 
 word service that which is lacking in their life 
 service. 
 
 Quash knit his brow and sat in silence while I 
 read, and did not refer to the matter again until 
 some time afterwards, when he said, after I had 
 read aloud the " Sermon on the Mount," " Yes, 
 that seems good. Why is it that men professing 
 to believe these things are so bad ? " I replied by 
 reading what my father had written on the fly-leaf 
 of my Bible : " The church that does the least for 
 man is least worthy to live ; for no church which 
 is not full of benevolent activities can be His 
 church." 
 
 After this I often read aloud from the book, but 
 there were seldom any comments, either by Quash 
 or myself. 
 
 One morning I awoke with a throbbing head, 
 parched tongue, and with chills and fever. 
 
 Quash examined my flesh and tongue, and then 
 said, " It is swamp-fever. I will find something to 
 cure you." 
 
 He went out and brought back some bark, from 
 which he made a drink — very strong and bitter. 
 I drank it hot, and soon began to sweat, and in the 
 afternoon, though weak, the fever had left me. A 
 few doses, taken from day to dayf helped me won- 
 derfully. 
 
376 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 For nearly two months I remained with Quash, 
 helping him in his garden, swinging in his ham- 
 mock, growing stronger each day, until I was 
 completely restored to health. Then I longed to be 
 back again witli my comrades in arms, and planned 
 to escape to our lines. I asked Quash to join me 
 in the effort, but he persistently refused, and tried 
 to dissuade me from making the attempt ; but 
 when he saw I was resolved, he assisted in getting 
 me ready. Previously learning, through Quash, 
 the part of South Carolina I was in, I found I 
 could reach our lines by travelling a little over a 
 hundred miles. 
 
 I have never known the date of my leaving the 
 swamp that had sheltered me from capture so long, 
 but it must have been near the last of September. 
 
 Quash's admonition when we parted, after con- 
 ducting me to a field-hand's hut, was to keep 
 away from the houses of white men and mulattoes. 
 " The blacker the man and the poorer," he said, 
 " the more he can be trusted." 
 
 Many who escaped from rebel prisons will bear 
 testimony that Quash's directions were not wholly 
 false. 
 
 He conducted me to a cabin, which I could 
 see was near a large Southern mansion, knocked 
 at the door, when a decrepit old negro answered 
 the summons very crossly, for he had evidently 
 just got out of , his bed. 
 
 " Mose," said Quash, " don't you know me ? " 
 
THE HUT OF THE FUGITIVE. 377 
 
 " Clar ter goodness ! if you ain't der " — but 
 here Quasli silenced him by a warning gesture. 
 
 " Mose, I want you to conduct this man — a 
 Yankee soldier — near to Atlanta, or, at least, put 
 him in the M'ay of getting there." 
 
 "Why," exclaimed Mose, "de Yankee soldiers 
 have tuk Atlanta ! " 
 
 This was the first intelligence I had of the fall 
 of Atlanta, and, as may be supposed, it was very 
 gratifying to me ; and I said to Quash, " That 
 means that the Union army is planted right in the 
 heart of the South ; and it means freedom to your 
 people, unless the rebs can drive them out." 
 
 Quash's plan for my escape was, that Mose 
 should travel with me some eight miles that night, 
 and then put me in cliai'ge of another trusted 
 black man ; and this man was to put me in charge 
 of another ; and so on until I reached the Union 
 lines. It appeared to me there was an organized 
 system of posts by which the negroes communi- 
 cated with each other. 
 
 Here a difficulty seemed to occur, as old Mose 
 said they were having a party at the big house,- 
 and that he was obliged to be around early, to 
 bring out the guests' horses in the small hours of 
 the morning. 
 
 " You have time to go to the mills in that time," 
 said Quash. 
 
 " Well, I'se got misery in dis yer back of mine, 
 but I recon I kin do hit." 
 
378 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 On parting witli Quash I grasped his hand and 
 said, " If you are freed by this war, come to Min- 
 nesota and live with me." 
 
 " I'se believe de day ob jubilee am comin' ; but 
 'pears like it wouldn't come in dis ole man's time," 
 interrupted Mose. Here I gave my Bible to Quash, 
 as a parting gift, and he said simply, " Thank you. 
 It is good. It has softened my heart towards all 
 men." 
 
 I shook hands with him ; and my heart was full 
 as he said, " You <;an trust old Mose. He is as 
 true as steel. Follow his advice, and he will get 
 you through. May the Lord you trust in guide 
 you to your friends once more ! " 
 
 And then I parted forever with the noblest 
 and manliest black man I had ever known. 
 
IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY. 379 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY. 
 
 I AM obliged to confess that had I followed the 
 advice of " Old Mose," I should not at that time, 
 in all probability, have fallen into the hands of the 
 enemy. The circumstances which led to my cap- 
 ture were as follows : It was about ten o'clock in 
 the evening when, accompanied by old Mose, I 
 started out on my journey, travelling through the 
 woods, which, like all timber land of the South, 
 was very open. 
 
 Notwithstanding his seeming decrepitude and 
 what he called the "misery in his back," old Mose 
 travelled very rapidly, constantly muttering advice 
 in an undertone which I did not always under- 
 stand. 
 
 "Keep awa' fro' de big houses and no 'count 
 white niggers; look fo' help in de fiel's," was his 
 constantly muttered advice. 
 
 " You think they can't be trusted, Uncle ? " I 
 asked. Instead of replying, the old man made a 
 motion for silence, exclaiming in a whisper, " Sh ! 
 wha' dat?" It was some one singing; it was a 
 woman's voice, at first far away and indistinct, 
 
380 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 but rapidly coming nearer, until clear, sweet, and 
 distinct, it swelled into a volume of beautiful mel- 
 ody. The voice thrilled me in a manner which at 
 that moment I could not define. 
 
 In a moment more the singing was interrupted ; 
 the clatter of hoofs and the yelps of dogs suc- 
 ceeded, which showed me that the singer was one 
 of a party on horseback. " De white fokes gwine 
 to de party. Dat Miss Sibley raise her voice pow- 
 erful," said old Mose. The party still neared us, 
 laughing and talking, and I recognized among 
 the voices that of Marion Sibley. 
 
 I cannot remember when I ever felt as despond- 
 ent and dissatisfied as I did then, at the thought 
 that I was a fugitive among my enemies. It also 
 angered and humiliated me to confess that I was 
 so much affected at hearing that voice. 
 
 The dogs meanwhile had come nearer to us and 
 barked several times, and I thought I heard an 
 undertone of men's voices before the party passed 
 on, as if discussing the cause of their dogs' snuff- 
 ing and barking. As the party passed I could 
 see the flutter of white garments in the patches 
 of the moonlit clearings. 
 
 We travelled in the woods with no other inter- 
 ruption, and at last, near three o'clock in the 
 morning, came out on the edge of a large open- 
 ing. 
 
 " See dat big house — dar ? " said Mose. 
 
 "Yes, I can see it." 
 
IX THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY. 381 
 
 " Keep awa' fro' dat ; " then pointing to a mud- 
 cliinked cabin near us, said, " See dat li'l cabin 
 standin' 'lone dar? Ole Sam Marshal lib dar; 
 get near dat cabin ; wait till de sun do rise, den 
 knock at de do' and say Mose cum to put me wi' 
 yo', and dat I hab to hurry back to 'tend to de 
 quality folks' horses." And then without waiting 
 for my thanks Mose disappeared in the woods. 
 
 Instead of obeying the old man's injunction to 
 get near the cabin, I sat watching the door of it 
 with my back against a tree, despondently and 
 bitterly communing with myself. 
 
 The next thing of which I was conscious was 
 the sound of voices and the tramp of feet. 
 
 I sprang to my feet to find myself among a 
 group of mounted ladies and gentlemen, whom I 
 afterwards learned were just returning from the 
 party mentioned by old Mose, and had surprised 
 me asleep. 
 
 Among the group I recognized the young Con- 
 federate oiScer I had met at the Sibley mansion. 
 He eyed me with a cold and curious look as he 
 said, " Who are you, sir ? " I was provoked at 
 being so stupid as to allow myself to be captured 
 in so unguarded a manner, and replied, — 
 
 I am Lieutenant Clifton of the — th Illinois. He 
 then said with more gentleness than Iliad thought 
 possible to one with so proud a face, — 
 
 " You wear nothing but chevrons, sir, but I ac- 
 cept your word, and am sorry it is my duty to 
 
382 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 hold you as a prisoner of war. I shall ask you 
 to give me your parole of honor, or shall I put 
 you under guard ? " 
 
 " It is very kind of you to accept my parole, and 
 I will not attempt to escape while you are respon- 
 sible for me." 
 
 We went forward and in a moment more were 
 at the big house pointed out to me by old Mose, 
 and, to my agreeable surprise, I found it to be the 
 Sibley mansion from which I had escaped so long ago. 
 
 I can only here express my gratitude for the 
 kindness which I, an enemy and "a stranger in 
 a strange land," received at the hands of these 
 people. I am the more grateful when I contrast 
 my generous treatment there with the horrible 
 months that followed. 
 
 In talking with the young Confederate officer, I 
 found that he was one of those who had confronted 
 us at Vicksburg, and was not unmindful of the 
 great kindness which he there received as a prisoner- 
 of-war.. 
 
 On arriving at the Sibley mansion, I was allowed 
 an opportunity of making myself as neat as pos- 
 sible before coming in contact with the family. 
 I found that, notwithstanding my exj)eriences in 
 the swamp, my uniform was in very tolerable con- 
 dition, and when I was brushed that I was quite 
 presentable. That morning I breakfasted with 
 the Confederate officer, and later took my dinner 
 with the Sibley family, as their guest. 
 
IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY. 383 
 
 It showed the kindly Southern courtesy of this 
 officer, when, at one time, the conversation turning 
 to war affairs, he checked it by saying, — 
 
 "Do not forget, gentlemen, that Mr. Clifton 
 cannot properly listen to your discussion without 
 replying to your sentiments, and, as he is a pris- 
 oner on parole, he is at a disadvantage among you." 
 
 I thanked the lieutenant, and so did my host 
 and his family — not by words, but by their man- 
 ner. During the day Mr. Sibley said, " Your 
 friends, — that Irish dare devil " (so he termed 
 Matt) "and the big half-breed, — ^ were brought here 
 after being captured." 
 
 I inquired if they had been hurt, and he said 
 they had not. 
 
 " Peter, as you call him, looked dangerous, but 
 the Irishman was as irrepressible as ever, and was 
 not in the least cast down, though," said the doc- 
 tor with a smile, " he was not quite as noisy as 
 when he was playing Confederate guard over 
 Yankee prisoners." 
 
 When I had expressed my pleasure that no 
 worse fate had befallen them, the doctor said with 
 a shake of his head, " They were sent to Anderson- 
 ville, and I have been tOld by a medical friend on 
 duty there that the sanitary condition of that 
 prison is bad — horrible — that the death rates are 
 simply incredible." 
 
 I remained at the Sibleys' two days longer, 
 almost forgetting that I was a prisoner-of-war, 
 
384 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 but at the expiration of that time was told by the 
 lieutenant that he was to turn nie over to a guard 
 coming through by rail with prisoners from 
 Atlanta. 
 
 I left the home of the Sibleys, where I had been 
 so kindly treated, and as I shook hands and 
 thanked the members of the family, it seemed to 
 me Miss Marion's hand lingered quite willingly in 
 mine. 
 
 That afternoon I arrived at the station on the 
 
 Railroad, was turned over to the officer in 
 
 charge of the Yankee prisoners, was crowded into a 
 filthy box car, with some fifty other privates and non- 
 commissioned officers, for my rank was here judged 
 by my uniform and not by what I said. 
 
 The next morning we arrived at Macon, were 
 fed with heavy, unpalatable corn-bread, and later 
 were switched into a road at right angles with the 
 one we had been travelling and that ran almost in 
 an easterly direction. 
 
 I learned for the first time since my capture in 
 July of the military situation since the capture 
 of Atlanta — that all of its buildings and stores 
 of a public nature had been demolished ; that 
 the Etowah Railroad was ordered destroyed, and 
 that wrecked engines, bent and twisted rails, 
 and lonesome chimneys and ruins were quite 
 common, and saddening to the hearts of the 
 chivalry. 
 
 " They say," says one, " that Uncle Billy is 
 
IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY. 385 
 
 going to make every family there move out, so if 
 Hood gets possession again, he won't get anything 
 worth a cent." 
 
 Among those in the box-car in which I was 
 phxcecl was a little drummer, very quiet and sweet- 
 faced, whom they called " Bob." He seemed to 
 shrink from the rude familiarity of the other pris- 
 oners. Along towards evening I found him snug- 
 gled next to me for protection. We became 
 friendly at once. He told me he belonged to a 
 Massachusetts regiment, and that only two others 
 of his regiment were captured at the time he was. 
 
 We crossed a long trestle-work when near 
 Charleston and emerged into a country where on 
 either side were lonely looking trees, festooned with 
 drapery-like moss, clinging to the top branches 
 and swinging in the breeze as if, as little Bob 
 said, they were mourning for the Confederacy. 
 
 It was about four o'clock in the afternoon of 
 the next day that the cars stopped, and we dis- 
 covered that we were near the water front of 
 Charleston, S.C. 
 
 Evidences of the bombardment from our batter- 
 ies down the harbor could be seen as we marched 
 through the streets. Here an irregular hole in 
 the side or end of a brick edifice, — the corner of 
 a building knocked away, — or the blackened re- 
 mains of those ignited by our shells. 
 
 We heard the explosion of shells above the city 
 as we marched along, and the occasional dull report 
 
386 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 of heavy guns, three or four miles distant, from 
 whence these missiles came. I noticed that shoots 
 of grass were growing up around the paving-stones 
 in the streets. 
 
 The people on the sidewalks and at the open 
 windows spoke kindly, and gave some of our num- 
 ber cigars and cakes. Most of them appeared to 
 be German Jews. 
 
 The fall of Atlanta had compelled the hasty re- 
 moval of most of the prisoners from Andersonville 
 and their distribution to other points in the South, 
 where they would be safe from Sherman's clutches. 
 Among the prison camps established for this pur- 
 pose was one in the rear of Charleston. To this 
 we were consigned. 
 
 At the time of my arrival, September 25th, there 
 were about five thousand prisoners at this place, 
 known as the " race course," or " fair-ground," in 
 the rear and west of the city. 
 
 The fair-ground, comprising about forty acres of 
 level land, was surrounded by dense foliage, and, 
 when seen under favorable circumstances, was 
 no doubt a beautiful spot. Seen by a prisoner it 
 looked very uninviting. 
 
 The area where the prisoners were encamped 
 was marked by an ordinary plough furrow and sur- 
 rounded by sentinels, while outside of these were 
 several batteries of light field-pieces, to mow down 
 the prisoners at the slightest exhibition of insur- 
 rection. 
 
IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY. 387 
 
 Filthy huts, about knee high, made from shreds 
 of clothing and soldiers' dirty blankets, crowded 
 this area in an indescribable jumble. A terrible 
 stench emanated from this squalid place. 
 
 With little Bob by my side, and with my blan- 
 ket and baggage over my shoulders, I walked the 
 narrow, crooked paths among the mass of wretched 
 men who, recognizing me as a new prisoner, 
 crowded around to inquire the news, or invite 
 trade. 
 
 Famine looked out from their lustreless eyes. 
 Such hopelessness and wretchedness were stamped 
 upon their skeleton-like forms, trembling, groping 
 hands, their dry and parched lips, and dirtrclotted 
 faces, as if they were blasted with some terrible 
 fungus of disease. 
 
 Their garments and persons were infested with 
 vermin, their dirt-stained faces made hard by suffer- 
 ing had in them something indescribably plaintive. 
 
 I observed that when they reached out their 
 hands to take some article offered them, their arms 
 described a curved line, as if they were too heavy 
 to be put out straight from the shoulder. 
 
 Bare-footed, hair-matted, famine-stricken as they 
 were, they were as eager in their inquiries for news 
 of the army at the front as for food. In voices 
 high-pitched and tremulous with weakness, they 
 inquired the news from Grant and Sherman; but 
 I could give them none tliey had not already heard, 
 for this they got from fresh captives coming in 
 
388 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 from our armies nearly every day. A sense of in- 
 describable dread and loneliness came over me at 
 the thought that I had not one single acquaint- 
 ance, except little Bob, among all this throng of 
 miserable beings. 
 
 We moved in and out among the jumble of 
 squalid huts, seeking a place where we could camp. 
 The difficulty of doing this was increased by the 
 frequency of little shallow wells, eight or ten feet 
 deep, which had been dug by the prisoners near 
 almost every hut. 
 
 "What makes you have so many wells?" I in- 
 quired of one into whose well I had nearly stum- 
 bled. " When we get something good here and 
 can get enough of it, we just take it. Now, at Camp 
 Sumter " — here to my surprise the prisoner threw 
 back the rim of a ragged soft hat, jumped from 
 the ground, rushed forward with extended arms, 
 and began to cry in whimpering tones, " Tom ! 
 Tom ! " 
 
 "What is the matter?" I inquired. 
 
 " Why, don't you know me ? Don't you know 
 Sam Ryder?" 
 
 It Avas indeed Sam, but so changed that I might 
 have passed him a dozen times without recogniz- 
 ing him. 
 
 " Do you know," I inquired, after the first sal- 
 utations were over, "anything about Matt and 
 Peter?" 
 
 " Yes ; they started from Andersonville in the 
 
IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY. 389 
 
 same detachment with me, — they must be on this 
 starvation lot somewhere ; but this phxce ain't so 
 bad ; it's high up alongside of Anderson ville ! " 
 
 Seeing my incredulity, he said, " Well, 't is tough 
 for a new beginner at this boardin'-house to be- 
 lieve, but that place was a hell on earth and noth- 
 ing short of it. 'Bout all them fellers captured 
 at Kenesaw Mountain are dead 'cept Jim. You 
 remember Jim Fowler. Say, Jim ! " calling out 
 to a picturesque collection of dirt and rags that 
 had just hove in sight, " come here. Do you 
 know this fellow that looks as if he had come out 
 of a bandbox?" 
 
 Jim looked at me from the sunken sockets of 
 his eyes, toddled forward, and said in high-pitched, 
 trembling tones, unlike the manly ones I'd for- 
 merly known as Jim's, " Yes ; it's orderly Tom, 
 I reckon ! " Then, with something like his old 
 humor, "Have some supper with us, will yer? 
 " Can't give you much of a spread, Sergeant Tom. 
 They've been feedin' us for shadders and not for a 
 cattle show, by a long sight," said Jim, looking at 
 me so piteously that, do all I could to restrain 
 them, tears came to my eyes. 
 
 " We get some wood hyer, and that's more than 
 we got at Andersonville, and we get a sniff of 
 decently cool air, but you couldn't get a sniff of 
 that there." 
 
 " I guess I'll look up Peter and Matt and camp 
 with them," I said. 
 
090 TOM CLIFTON: 
 
 Sam laughed at the idea. " Why, Tom," said he, 
 " they'll be as hard to find as a needle in a haystack, 
 and you'd better take a good look at this place be- 
 fore you leave it, so as to find it again ; but what's 
 yer hurry? Camp right down side of us here." 
 
 So Bob and I spread our blankets by the side of 
 Jim and Sam. 
 
 When rations were issued that evening I got 
 myself put into the second hundred of the third 
 thousand, and drew rations with Sam. 
 
 I got for my day's ration about two spoonfuls 
 of hominy, three of rice, four of beans, and four of 
 wheat flour, and as much for Bob. 
 
 I put in my stock of comforts with Sam and Jim, 
 and derived as much benefit from this arrangement 
 as they did. 
 
 The next morning when I produced my little 
 long-handled fry pan to cook my johnny-cake, 
 both Sam and Jim actually jumped with delight 
 at the prospect of borrowing it. 
 
 "Why," laughed Sam, "yo'd a lost that and 
 your whole kit before this if yer hadn't sort of 
 providentially met me. These hungry fellers are 
 awfully absent-minded. They'd walk away with 
 the big dipper, north star and all ; yes, the great 
 ba'r, too, if they could get him ; they'd eat him 
 raw, too, ef he was anyways eatable." 
 
 That day the boys told me, in disconnected sen- 
 tences, about Andersonville, and how our brave 
 boys captured at Kenesaw had perished there. 
 
IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY. 391 
 
 " They are about all dead," said Jim mourn- 
 fully, " and I guess the squad sergeant has got a 
 paper marked for me." 
 
 " Oh, don't, Jim ! " said Sam ; " it ain't no use 
 ter borrow trouble." 
 
 In reply to my inquiry, Sam told me that at 
 Andersonville the sergeant of a squad pinned to 
 the breast of each dead man a piece of paper 
 marked with the name of the man and sometimes, 
 in anticipation of death of members of his squad, 
 he made them out in advance. 
 
 That morning, after breakfast, I went over the 
 camp very confident of finding Peter and Matt, 
 and came back discouraged. 
 
 " Better sit right still," said Sam, " and wait for 
 'em ter to come 'round. You will hit on 'em by 
 accident before you do by looking yer eyes out." 
 
 So I took Sam's advice and tried to make my- 
 self comfortable, and settled down to the common 
 lot of Union prisoners at Charleston, which stead- 
 ily became worse and worse each day. 
 
392 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 CHARLESTON FAIR-GROUND. 
 
 One morning, about a week after the events 
 narrated in the foregoing chapter, upon looking 
 over the camp once more (for I had not given up 
 trying to find Matt and Peter), I returned to our 
 mess discouraged. 
 
 I found Sam doubled up over a little fire, cook- 
 ing mush, while " little Bob " was on his hands 
 and knees blowing the fire to keep it blazing. 
 
 " That little fellow," said Sam, " ain't got breath 
 enough in him to make a blaze. See here ! Tom, 
 you hold the mush-dish and I'll blow. Get out, 
 Bob, and see me do it ! " 
 
 " Where's Jim Fowler ? " I inquired, noticing 
 that he was not present as usual when any cook- 
 ing was to be done. 
 
 " Well, " said Sam, choking with smoke," Jim 
 ain't dead, but he has kinder gin out." 
 
 " What's the matter ? " 
 
 "Now, look here," said Sam, sitting up and snif- 
 fling, " I'll tell yer how 'tis, Tom, when a man has 
 got the scurvy, he's got most everything else in 
 the shape of disease. If he's got a weak spot, or 
 
CHARLESTON FAIR-GROUND. 393 
 
 ever had, for instance, weak lungs or sore throat, 
 it seems to bring out the old disease, and yer can 
 doctor it till doomsday ; 't won't do a speck of good 
 — ■ till he gets something for the scurvy ; then 
 't will leave as if 't was kicked eout." 
 
 " What's good for the scurvy ? " I asked. 
 
 " Well," said Sara with a grin, accompanied by 
 a snuffle produced by the smoke, "lemons and 
 limes and potatoes and mutton-chops air good, but 
 I suppose I might as well say gold dollars, for 
 they ain't any harder to git." 
 
 " Can't we buy some lemons or potatoes here ? " 
 
 " Yes, if we had money, but " — here Sam got on 
 his knees again and began blowing the fire, saying 
 in parenthesis, " if potatoes were selling at a cent 
 a bushel, we couldn't buy a spud." 
 
 " Can't you buy them with these greenbacks? " I 
 inquired, taking a small roll of them from my 
 pocket. Sam resumed a sitting position as if he 
 had a spring in his back, like a jack-knife, ex- 
 citedly exclaiming, " Man alive ! of course, it's the 
 only thing you can get them with : they're next to 
 gold. Jerusalem ! Why didn't yer let on before ? 
 How much is there? " 
 
 "About fifty dollars," I replied, passing him 
 the money. 
 
 Sam counted it and corrected me by saying, 
 " Just fifty-tew dollars and this small stuff," and, 
 passing back all but a ten-dollar bill and some 
 fractional currency, said, " I'll get something ter 
 eat neow rite off, if yer say so ? " 
 
394 TOM CLTFTON. 
 
 I nodded my assent, and Sam gave a hitch to 
 the waistband of his trousers, drew in his breath 
 with a snuffle, as if to settle the smoke he'd swal- 
 lowed, and started out. 
 
 He soon returned, happy in the possession of a 
 dozen Irish potatoes, four onions, and two wheat 
 biscuit, which he had procured at the rebel sutler's. 
 
 He gave Jim some potato to eat raw ; but poor 
 Jim's mouth was swollen, and his gums so sore 
 that he declared he couldn't chew. 
 
 He swallowed some soup that Sam made, how- 
 ever, and also some raw scraped potato, but said, 
 " I reckon 'tain't much use, but you boys ar' right 
 good ter me, I'll 'low. It looks right good to see 
 that," pointing to the cloud of a shell that just 
 then broke over the spire of a church. " It's sort 
 of a comfort to know that our boys down the har- 
 bor are just a-gettin' at these rebs, if a fellow can't 
 ever fight any more." 
 
 The next afternoon Sam said, " Tom, Jim wants 
 ter see yer," so I crawled into the squalid hut we 
 occupied in common for sleeping, and said, " What 
 is it, Jim ? " 
 
 " Orderly, I don't believe," said he mournfully, 
 " I'm a-goin' ter pull through this heat." 
 
 " Keep up courage," I said : " you'll come out all 
 right and live to see your wife and boys you've 
 told me about." 
 
 Jim looked at me mournfully from out of the 
 sunken sockets of his eyes, and replied in the 
 
CHARLESTON FAIR-GROUND. 395 
 
 dreary, far-away tones of a famished man, "I 
 could live to get out o' the hands of an}^ savages 
 but these. See here," and he showed me the mag- 
 gots crawling from his very flesh. Then, after a 
 while, he said, " Say, orderly, if you ever get out 
 of this, tell my boys that I had a chance at Ander- 
 sonville to go out and work and save my life but 
 would n't. 
 
 " Tell 'em I loved the Union, that I hated what 
 these rebs loved, and I loved what they hated so 
 much that perhaps God will forgive tiie rest. It's 
 pretty good r'ligion for a or'nary man." 
 
 Later in the day, when I visited him, he said 
 faintly, " Mother used to teach me a prayer, when 
 I was a little chap, 'fore she died, and, — I'll try 
 and pray it now ; " then, clasping his hands above 
 his breast, he said faintly, " ' Now I lay me down 
 to sleep — I pray the Lord my soul to keep. — If I 
 should die ' " — A gasp, and poor Jim's prayer 
 was ended. He breathed heavily once or twice 
 and was dead. He was one of the bravest and 
 most faithful of our boys. I pray fervently that 
 God his soul " may keep," for it was worthy of his 
 great, all-embracing love. 
 
 The rations grew steadily less and less in quan- 
 tity, the supply of wood began to fall short, and at 
 last for two days no rations at all were issued to 
 the camp of half-starved prisoners. 
 
 On the last of these days it was rumored around 
 camp that food was to be given out. 
 
396 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Leaving Sam on guard over our quarters, I went 
 with Bob to the south-west end of the camp, where 
 the rations were usually issued. 
 ' After some time spent in waiting, an officer rode 
 up here and, commanding attention, said, "We 
 want some men to work down on the islands in 
 the harbor. It is work you've all been accustomed 
 to. We will give those who go out to do this 
 work rations of vegetables, meat, flour, beans, rice, 
 and all the tobacco and whiskey they want. None 
 of you will b« compelled to go, but all who accept 
 this offer will be made to do the work whether they 
 like it or not. All those who wish to go will come 
 to this place after dark, and we'll take care of them. 
 Who will go ? " 
 
 "I ! " " I ! " " I ! " came the answer from trembling 
 lips down which the saliva ran at the very mention 
 of fresh meat and vegetables. 
 
 A voice in the crowd of prisoners exclaimed, 
 " Men, hunger has made you crazy ! You for- 
 get the old flag ! Listen to me a moment ! " and, 
 clambering on an empty rice-cask, a soldier in the 
 tattered remains of a gray suit that looked suspici- 
 ously as if it had once been a rebel uniform, began 
 to speak : " Comrades ! this Confederate officer has 
 told you what he wants you for. If you don't un- 
 derstand, I'll tell you. He wants you, who have 
 fought for the old flag, to dig rifle-pits, behind 
 which rebels to that flag may shield themselves 
 from the shot of our guns down there ! It may 
 
CHARLESTON FAIR-GROUND. 397 
 
 be square for him to make this proposition, but it 
 is treason for you to accept it. After fighting and 
 suffering for the Union, who is there here that will 
 use spades or muskets for their rotten Confederacy? 
 Who is there here with a soul so small that he 
 will not rot in Charleston rather than lift his hand 
 against the old flag? Who can look an honest man, 
 or your father, or mother, in the face, after being a 
 traitor? Let them starve you, men, that's their 
 business. Yield and you are cowards." 
 
 " Go on ! Go on ! It's the right kind of talk ! 
 Go on ! " came the shout from starving lips that 
 but a moment before were clamoring to go out. 
 
 " Bully for you. Matt ! " I shouted, for before 
 this I had discovered that it was Matt Ryan. As 
 he turned I called again to him. His eyes met 
 mine, and it was ludicrous rather than heroic to see 
 him scramble down from the rice-cask, excitedly 
 exclaiming, " Tom ! — Tom Clifton ! by all the 
 powers ! where did you come from ? " 
 
 By this time others among the prisoners had 
 caught the spirit communicated by Matt's elo- 
 quent words and had begun speaking. 
 
 Matt was shaking hands with me when Bob, 
 by my side, began to cry. "Who is this little 
 squealer," said Matt. 
 
 " I wanted to go out," cried Bob ; " but I could 
 never have looked my mother in the face again if 
 I had." 
 
 " Oh, hush up ! that's all right. I wanted to go 
 
898 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 myself," said Matt, putting his ragged arm around 
 the boy's neck; " it's all right ; shut up ! " 
 
 " Where's Peter ? " I inquired. 
 
 " At home, cooking." 
 
 " Home," in its application here, struck me as an 
 outrageous travesty on the real thing, but it was 
 an expression often heard. 
 
 I was soon shaking hands with dear old Peter, 
 but how thin, hollow-eyed, and ragged he was ! 
 
 Matt's declaration that he had " only an outline 
 map of a suit," applied also to Peter's clothing. 
 
 " What's the matter, Peter ? You look down in 
 the mouth." 
 
 " Takes more grub fill me dan Matt," was Peter's 
 reply. 
 
 After the meeting Peter, Sam, Matt, Bob, and 
 myself agreed to mess together and help each 
 other fight disease and death. It was agreed that 
 each one of us should bathe all over each day, and 
 that in the division of food Peter should have a 
 little the biggest share. 
 
 We first constructed a larger and more comfort- 
 able hut, and to one of us each day was assigned 
 the duty of airing it and making the interior 
 orderly, clean, and as comfortable as possible. 
 
 My money was mostly gone, but I was able at 
 first to purchase a little vegetable food for Peter, 
 and he seemed for a time to gain in health and 
 strength ; but, like the great mass of prisoners, he 
 had been starved and confined to the foul air of a 
 
CHARLESTON FAIR-GROUND. 399 
 
 fetid prison camp so long, that nothing short of a 
 radical change could benefit him. 
 
 His limbs were bloated with scurvy, and he be- 
 gan to grow worse when he was no longer able to 
 obtain nutritious food. 
 
 " No good ; take me hospital," said Peter. 
 
 The word " hospital" had always been asso- 
 ciated in my mind with kindness, generous food, 
 and good care, and I at once said, — 
 
 " Why didn't I think of it before ? It's just the 
 thing I" 
 
 Matt grinned sarcastically, and said, " Guess you 
 never was in a rebel hospital, Tom." 
 
 " Where is it ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Just out here, north from the prison," said 
 Matt. " Come, I'll show you ; " and so I went out 
 with him and from the prison camp could see a 
 collection of huts similar in appearance, though 
 the camp was smaller than the prison camp. 
 
 " Perhaps it's like a singed cat," I suggested, 
 " better than it looks." 
 
 "Well, Tom," said Matt, "we might take Peter 
 out there and get him some medicine. You know 
 they won't prescribe or give out any for a sick 
 man unless he is carried to 'em." 
 
 So we concluded to take him out, see for our- 
 selves what kind of a place it was, and, at least, 
 get the medicine for him. 
 
 He was not too sick to walk, but to impress the 
 prison authorities Matt and I walked on each side 
 of him. 
 
400 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 I found the hospital squalid beyond description,- 
 the place did not contain a single tent, the only 
 shelter being blankets. The inmates were more 
 destitute of these than even ordinary prisoners. 
 
 We passed along the stenching, polluted thor- 
 oughfares, my courage and hojDC oozing away at 
 every step, until we met the crowd of miserables 
 around the surgeon's booth. 
 
 Here were terrible cases of gangrene (produced 
 by long exposure to the poisonous prison air), 
 which had rendered the blood impure, so that the 
 slighest abrasion of the skin had become a putrid 
 sore ; and these, on removal of the foul shreds of 
 woollen cloth, revealed the flesh falling from the 
 bones, where among naked cords and ligaments 
 maggots held a premature feast. 
 
 Other poor creatures, once brave and manly, 
 now weakened in intellect, with faded eyes in 
 hollow sockets, their hands and naked feet covered 
 with filth and dirt, their foul rags hanging in 
 tatters, their voices, once strong and manly, now 
 an inarticulate whine, the skin clinging tightly to 
 the bones from which the flesh had wasted away, 
 presented a terrible sight. 
 
 I cannot describe the horrible scenes I saw, — lan- 
 guage is too feeble, — and I would not if I could. 
 They can only be comprehended, as inaccessible 
 heights are measured, by the awful shadoAvs which 
 they project — by the accumulative testimony com- 
 ing from the survivors of these scenes. 
 
CHARLESTON FAIR-GROUND. 401 
 
 We reached the surgeon after passing through 
 this crowd. That officer gave one look at poor 
 Peter, then hardly able to stand, and exclaimed 
 angrily, "What do you bring this marU here for? " 
 
 " He's sick," I said. " Will you not give him 
 medicine ? " 
 
 " We don't doctor men who can walk around." 
 
 " No," I indignantly replied, " it seems not ; you 
 endeavor to save only when there is no hope." 
 
 The surgeon, as if struck by the remark, gave 
 another look at Peter, and then again looking me 
 steadily in the face said, in an expressive undertone, 
 " The best medicine for him and all these wretches is 
 food. Here are some camphor pills. Take him 
 away ! " 
 
 We were glad to escape. It was no place, 
 as Matt said, for either a sick or well man. We 
 carried Peter back again, and he lay down in our 
 hut with a sigh of relief, saying, " Better place die 
 in here." 
 
 But he did not die. 
 
 I had pondered on the remark of the rebel sur- 
 geon, " The best medicine is food." I had a gold 
 watch, of fine workmanship, which had been given 
 me by my uncle John, and I knew I could trade it 
 for more Confederate money than I could carry 
 with Peter's portage straps, and I then determined 
 to sell it and get nourishing food for him. 
 
 The Sisters of Charity had begun at this time to 
 come into the prison, doing errands for the prison- 
 
402 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 ers, performing offices of mercy for almost naked 
 creatures, without ever inquiring their creed, or 
 expecting reward. I called the attention of one of 
 these to Peter, and proposed that she should sell 
 the watch and bring us the money. 
 
 The next day she returned it, saying that she 
 could not find any one with enough spare money 
 to buy it at its proper price. 
 
 " What is its proper price ? " 
 
 "Five thousand dollars in Confederate money, or 
 a hundred and seventy or two hundred in gold," 
 was her reply. 
 
 "How much," I inquired, "did they offer for 
 it?" 
 
 " Two thousand dollars in Confederate money," 
 she replied. " If I get another offer, I'll let you 
 know." 
 
 That day, while near the sentinels, an officer 
 passed, and I asked him if he would hand me a 
 stick of cord-wood which lay just outside the guard- 
 line, and he complied witli my request. I thanked 
 him, and he was about to pass along, when I 
 detained him by inquiring if he would like to buy 
 a fine watch. 
 
 " Let me see it," he replied. I passed it over to 
 him. He examined it and said, " It is a beautiful 
 watch. What's the price?" I told him. "I'll take 
 the watch," he said. " What do you want to buy 
 with the money ? " 
 
 "Food." 
 
CHARLESTON FAIR-GROUND. 403 
 
 " I can give you part money and part orders on 
 the sutler, if you prefer. I am in command of this 
 camp, and I will see, if you should leave here, that 
 your orders shall be good wherever you go." 
 
 So we traded, and the arrangement proposed by 
 the colonel proved to be an unusually fair one. 
 
 Under good and abundant vegetable and meat 
 diet Peter improved daily, and in three weeks was 
 quite vigorous once more. 
 
 From this incident I drew the inference, which 
 I believe is a correct one, that scurvy is but another 
 form of starvation. 
 
 In October it was rumored that the yellow-fever 
 had made its appearance in Charleston, and dur- 
 ing the excitement caused by this rumor, the order 
 came for our removal. 
 
 A detachment was sent away next day, and 
 about two thousand thereafter daily until there 
 were but few remaining in camp. 
 
 At last we got the order for our removal, and 
 Avere packed on board of box-cars, en route for we 
 knew not where. As we left Charleston we saw 
 also leaving the city a train-load of our officers, 
 who shouted to some of the men they were 
 acquainted with, on board of our car. 
 
 At some of the switch-oif tracks near the city 
 we noticed families living in cars which were car- 
 peted, and in some instances there were carved 
 bedsteads, and in one instance a grand piano, which 
 led me to the inference that it was not entirely the 
 
404 TOM CLIPTON. 
 
 " low down " or poor whites who were living in 
 them. 
 
 Peter and little Bob had become great friends, 
 and it was beautiful to see Bob take refuge with 
 the big half-breed when roughly spoken to or rudely 
 jostled. 
 
 During our first day's journey I found Peter 
 holding Bob in his arms. 
 
 " What's the matter, Peter ? " 
 
 " He got pain here," said Peter, pointing to his 
 throat. I thouorht no more of it till later. 
 
FLORENCE PRISON. 405 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 FLORENCE PRISON. 
 
 There was a creaking and outcry from the 
 brakes, a sudden clang and jolt, when, at midnight, 
 the train halted. Many of us who were still asleep 
 were after tliis awakened and ordered off the cars. 
 The rain was pouring in torrents. 
 
 " Bad place sick little boy," I heard Peter say 
 as we stood in the drenching rain, where we could 
 not see a hand before us, it was so dark. 
 
 Those who had constituted our mess at Charles- 
 ton kept close together as we left the cars, and 
 I inferred from an occasional word that passed be- 
 tween them that Peter was carrying Bob in his 
 arms. 
 
 After a half-hour of stumbling forward for short 
 distances, and then stopping, and then going for- 
 ward again, we at last halted and lay down to- 
 gether in the mud. The ground was miry and 
 covered with hubbies of a cornfield. 
 
 Little Bob lay down between Peter and myself, 
 in the rain, which poured down throughout the re- 
 mainder of the night in uninterrupted fury. 
 
 In the night I heard Peter say, " What matter, 
 
406 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Bobby?" and once I felt Bob clutch my shoul- 
 der. I thought nothing of it till morning dawned, 
 when the little fellow was found dead by my 
 side. 
 
 Peter was kneeling by the side of his little friend, 
 silently tellingh is beads, as if that was the only 
 thing he could think to do for the dead boy. 
 
 I went to the officer of the guard and said, " We 
 want permission to bury a boy who died last night." 
 
 "Don't distress yourself, Yank. We'll bury 
 him.'' 
 
 " But we want to know where he is buried. 
 Can't we bury him so as to send word to his 
 mother ? " 
 
 " I reckon not." 
 
 " Just think of your own little boy dying in 
 a strange land, and you not know where he was 
 buried." 
 
 " Haven't got none ; boy no business here." 
 . " But the little fellow is only a child ! " The 
 officer sat stolidly, without deigning a reply. 
 
 There was no redress ; no appeal. I went back 
 to the boys and told them. 
 
 Peter made no remark, but covered the little fel- 
 low's face with his tattered handkerchief. On a 
 piece of paper Matt wrote his name, rank, regi- 
 ment, company, and age, and pinned it to his breast, 
 with the request that those who buried him would 
 mark the gi-ave. 
 
 Then we all knelt silently, praying, each after 
 
FLORENCE PRISON. 407 
 
 his own fashion, to the same merciful Father and 
 Son, for the brave little Union soldier who died in 
 this dreary place, away from his mother's arms. 
 
 Before we marched away I folded his frail brown 
 hands over the New Testament which was found in 
 his pocket. On it were written the words, " From 
 mother to Robert," — that mother who would see 
 her boy no more until the glory of a brighter 
 morning should bring them together. Alas, how 
 many who entered the prison that day found their 
 final resting-places where the tall, weird, southern 
 pines still whisper their requiem ! 
 
 We marched eastward a half-mile, when a stock- 
 ade of pine logs loomed up before us. The great 
 gate creaked querulously, yawned, and closed on us. 
 
 Wretched men gathered around us to inquire the 
 news. With very few exceptions the prisoners we 
 met had come from Andersonville. 
 
 The enclosure which marked the limits of the 
 prison was built of pine logs, scored on the sides, 
 and set upright in a trench. The area enclosed 
 consisted of two opposite hillsides and the level 
 plateau back of them. Through the centre ran a 
 narrow and swampy brook, on each side of which 
 was low land, covered in part by the stumps of 
 trees which had been cut down for the purpose of 
 building the stockade. The ground was black and 
 without vegetation. 
 
 The prison area was in the form of a parallelo- 
 gram, about seven hundred feet wide, and eleven 
 
408 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 hundred feet long. There were two gates at the 
 west end of the prison. At the north-east corner 
 of the stockade there was a railing, enclosing an 
 area allotted to the hospital. All around the in- 
 terior of the stockade, eighteen feet from it, was 
 a wide ditch, for a dead line, and to prevent the 
 prisoners from tunnelling or digging out. 
 
 Outside the stockade was another broad ditch, 
 the earth of which had been thrown ag-ainst the 
 palisade, making a walk, which brought the sen- 
 tinel breast-high above the walls. 
 
 We employed the first hours of the morning in 
 looking for a place to build a hut. We finall}^ 
 selected as suitable for our use a vacant spot on 
 the west hillside, and at once began the attempt 
 of making ourselves comfortable. 
 
 We first levelled off a spot, which we partly dug 
 into the side hill, and over this pitched two blan- 
 kets, resembling in form an A tent. 
 
 In the afternoon Matt and I obtained permis- 
 sion to go outside, under guard, for wood. We 
 brought as many pine boughs as we could drag, 
 stripped off the pine needles, and covered the bot- 
 tom of our hut therewith. This made a more com- 
 fortable bed than we had enjoyed in prison up to 
 this time, and the boughs, when cut up with my 
 large knife, gave us a good supply of wood for 
 cooking. 
 
 During our absence Peter had been in the low- 
 lands stripping tlie stumps for bark. We used 
 
FLORENCE PRISON. 409 
 
 part of this to patch the rear of our hut, and felt, 
 when we had completed it, that we had done a 
 good day's work. Such was the beginning of our 
 life at Florence. It daily became worse and worse. 
 
 In November the nights were intensely cold, and 
 every morning the bristling frost was white like 
 snow on the ground. 
 
 As the Confederate sergeant counted the differ- 
 ent squads at an early hour, my comrades, who had 
 no shoes, suffered intensely from cold. 
 
 The prisoners were starved, poorly clad, and 
 could not resist cold like those in ordinary condi- 
 tions of life. 
 
 During the winter it seemed impossible to keep 
 warm, and all night men were to be heard walking 
 the narrow streets, with plaintive wails and chat- 
 tering teeth, in the endeavor to keep warmth in 
 their poor starved bodies. 
 
 Often, when we found it too cold to sleep nights 
 by " spooning " close to each other in our hut, we 
 adopted the same expedient, and then slept in the 
 warm sun during the day. 
 
 Our rations were even less in quantity here than 
 they had been at Charleston. This may have been 
 caused in part by the fact tliat Sherman had begun 
 his march from Atlanta to the Sea, gathering the 
 sustenance of the country for his army ; and in 
 part by sheer indifference or negligence. 
 
 The Confederates opened a recruiting-office out- 
 side, and offered bounty of food and clothing to 
 
410 - TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 our men who would join their ranks. Very few 
 joined them who would have been good for any- 
 thing in our ranks, or who would prove of much 
 use to the Confederates. 
 
 The rebels themselves showed their estimate of 
 the men by calling them "galvanized Yanks." 
 
 When they came to Shaw — the big Massachu- 
 setts man, whom we found here on our arrival — 
 with an offer to go out and work at his trade as 
 shoemaker, Shaw said simply, "No, sir; I know 
 how to starve ; you've taught me that; but no one 
 has taught me to be a traitor." Such were the 
 men who died by thousands, — men who could die, 
 but would not prove false to their country, — 
 worthy descendants of those who fought at Lex- 
 ington and Bunker Hill that civil liberty might 
 bless the land. 
 
 Matt and Peter had gone out to draw the 
 rations, which were usually issued late in the 
 afternoon. They both came back later, saying, 
 " No rations ; the Confeds say we have got a tun- 
 nel somewhere and that men are escaping." 
 
 "What has that," I said, "to do about issuing 
 rations ? " 
 
 " They say none are to be issued to the pris- 
 oners until the tunnel is discovered. Got any 
 money left, Tom ? " asked Matt. 
 
 " All gone but five dollars Confederate money," 
 I replied. " I was holding on to that for an 
 emergency." 
 
a 
 
 i 
 
 .a 
 
 s 
 
 o 
 
 04 
 
FLORENCE PRISON. 411 
 
 "I guess this is the emergency fur yer," said 
 Sam. 
 
 The result was we bought two cakes of Indian- 
 meal. 
 
 There were no rations issued the next day, for 
 the reason given the day before, and from morning 
 till night we tasted no food. 
 
 I determined to sell my shoes, if possible, to one 
 of the rebel sentinels, and with this purpose went 
 around the enclosure, looking up at the different 
 men on post in hopes to sell them. 
 
 While so engaged I smelled a most inviting odor 
 of fried bacon. No one but a man who has suffered 
 the keenest pangs of hunger can understand me 
 when I say I was drawn irresistibly to the spot 
 where that bacon was being cooked. 
 
 The man who was cooking the bacon proved to 
 be a sailor, or was di-essed in sailor clothing. He 
 had quite a pile of sweet potatoes by his side, and 
 some others cooking in a tin pot on the fire where 
 he was frying the bacon. 
 
 As I stood sniffing the fragrant smell, the man 
 looked up and said, " What are you standing there 
 for?" Then, as I did not answer, he continued, 
 " You're a thin specimen ; how long have you been 
 a prisoner ? " 
 
 I replied I had only been a prisoner since Septem- 
 ber, but hadn't been very well, and wanted to sell 
 my shoes. 
 
 " I can't trade; these potatoes belong to a reb out- 
 
412 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 side, and my partner is acting as a trader for him. 
 You know the rebels have a law against taking 
 United States greent)acks, but the rebs outside had 
 rather have a dollar of it than a hundred of Confed- 
 erate money ; so they get around it in this way. 
 ' T is time my partner was round here. Hold on 
 a minute, he'll trade with you. Why, here he is 
 now." 
 
 Standing by my side, with his black eyes gleam- 
 ing from under his straight, shaggy brows, was 
 Pat Pike. 
 
 A rebel prison was like a large city, where one 
 was likely to meet any one ; but, though I had been 
 accustomed to unexpected meetings in this jumble 
 of men thrown together by the strange happenings 
 of war, in this instance I confess I was too sur- 
 prised to utter a word. 
 
 Not so with Pike. " Ah, me boy ! Shure the 
 rebs have got you, have they ? Where's Matt?" 
 
 " He's here ; so's Peter and a lot of our boys." 
 
 " And the lot of them starving, are yees ? Ah, 
 thin, it's yer shoes ye want to sell? Put um on, it's 
 cowld. Here, I'll give yees more spuds than yees 
 can buy wid um. Here, take these potatoes to 
 Matt. Till him I have jist something important 
 to till him." 
 
 I went to our hut, told Matt, and while the pota- 
 toes were being boiled and the bacon fried, we dis- 
 cussed the occurrence of the morning. 
 
 Matt simply replied, " This grub is good, what- 
 
FLORENCE PRISON. 413 
 
 ever Pike may be." We ate thankfully, and were 
 indeed in luck, for, during three days, no rations 
 had been given out to the piisoners, and men died 
 like sheep. Then some of the prisoners, it was 
 said, who had dug a tunnel for that purpose, dis- 
 covered it to brute Barrett, who had caused the 
 rations to be stopped, and food was once more doled 
 out in scanty rations to the unfortunates. 
 
 When I told Matt that Pike had something to 
 say to him, and had requested me to bring him up 
 that afternoon, he at first refused to go ; but Peter 
 said, " Go," and Sam Ryder said, " 'T is no place to 
 stand on bygones with a man who's got sweet pota- 
 toes and bacon to give yer, when yer grub-struck 
 as we be." 
 
 So Matt went with me. When Pike saw Matt 
 in his ragged Confederate suit, he said reproach- 
 fully, " Shure, they haven't made a galvanized Yank 
 of yees, have they ? " 
 
 As Matt was not inclined to explain,' I told the 
 story of our attempt to escape. " A bowld thing, 
 an jist like your father's son," said Pike, his face 
 lighting up with an expression of pleasure. 
 
 " Did you know my father?" said Matt. 
 
 " Shure, Matt, he was me own cousin." 
 
 " Why did you join our company," said Matt, 
 " with a lie on your lips, and take my father's name 
 and letter?" 
 
 " An' it was a cheap way to conceal me identity, 
 and I had at first no idea tha,t I should find Michael 
 
414 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 Ryan's son in that company, or any one who knew 
 him. A man, while in my hazardous emplymint 
 niver knows what good may come of such a concale- 
 mint. It happened your distlirust an^ me change 
 of names so re-established me in the confidence of 
 the rebels at Vicksburg, that I have been able to do 
 good work for the country since." 
 
 " It seems to me," said Matt, " that spying is a 
 pretty mean business." 
 
 "Yes," said Pike; "and more dangerous than 
 fighting. This very minute there's a halter round 
 me neck: no knowing when I'll swing by it." 
 
 " You take it pretty easy," I said, admiring his 
 coolness. 
 
 " An' it's me way. Shure if I lost me nerve, I 
 should be worse than nothing, in playing a game 
 like this. I came near losing it at Vicksburg — 
 I was vexed jist a moment. ' How did I come 
 here ? ' I'll till yees a bit about it. Before I lift 
 Gineral Sharman, — after the time I came down 
 over Muscle Shoals, bringing the letther from Gin- 
 eral Grant, — I agreed to go into the inemies' coun- 
 thry and burn some bridges to prevint the rebs 
 concentrating aginst him. Then I thried it ag'in 
 on the Atlanta campaign ; got caught ; then, — 
 no matther, I satisfied the rebs." Then, in lower 
 tones, he said, " I've been sent here by the rebs to 
 spy on the prisoners, for they think there's a plot 
 for an outbreak. It's not long that I will stay 
 here. Ould Sharman has started out from Atlanta, 
 
FLORENCE PRISON. 415 
 
 and will rache the saycoast before New Year's. 
 Shure, I must git to him before thin." Then, 
 with an expressive gesture, he said, "Kape still av 
 this," then began to talk about selling us some 
 sweet potatoes. 
 
 " Give me yer note for what potatoes yer want, 
 Clifton." 
 
 I gave him my note for four bushels of potatoes 
 at twenty-five dollars per bushel. 
 
 This note was never presented for collection, 
 and I don't think he intended to collect it when 
 he took it in payment. 
 
 In a few days this mysterious man disappeared 
 from camp, and I never saw him again. 
 
 Before he went he gave Matt a detailed account 
 of the reasons of his father's non-return to his 
 home, and of his death, all of wliich is immaterial 
 to this story. 
 
 The only thing learned of Pike after that time 
 was recently, while reading the memoirs of a 
 prominent Union general, I saw the statement 
 that during the March to the Sea a certain spy 
 named Pike came into our lines at Columbia, S.C. ; 
 that after the war he received a commission in the 
 regular service, and accidentally shot himself while 
 on the frontier, some years later. I believe he 
 was the same man I have written of here. 
 
416 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. 
 
 I WAS cooking potatoes one morning, when I 
 heard a Confederate guard in camp making in- 
 quiries for me. 
 
 I looked up from my smoky fire, saying, " I am 
 the man. What do you want ? " 
 
 " I reckon ye'l hef ter cum with me," said the 
 Confederate. " Cheatam, our adjutant, wants yer." 
 
 " What have I done ? " I inquired, for I ima- 
 gined that this might mean my arrest. 
 
 " Reckon ye'd better leave yer fixin's and tote 
 yourself along wi' me," was the only answer the 
 guard gave me. 
 
 I was not very presentable, even for a prisoner. 
 My face was black with the smoke of numerous 
 fires of pitch-pine limbs and roots I had wrestled 
 with ; my feet black with the dark soil of the camp, 
 where I had waded in the' stream for cooking 
 water ; my clothes were ragged, and scarcely broke 
 joints over my nakedness. Besides this, I was 
 not, as a whole, in a frame of mind conducive to 
 confidence in myself. It always took a certain 
 amount of soap and water, as well as clean, whole 
 
FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. 417 
 
 clothes, to thoroughly establish my moral courage 
 in trying situations. I think if I were required to 
 face a lion in his den, I could conduct the cam- 
 paign against him on more equal grounds with a 
 clean face and in a good suit of clothes. 
 
 But no matter what my misgivings were, I had 
 no choice but obedience, and so accompanied the 
 rebel guard to the headquarters of the command- 
 ing officer, a comfortable-looking log house outside 
 the prison limits. 
 
 As I entered the door, a pleasant-faced Confeder- 
 ate officer looked up from the pine table whereon 
 he was writing, and said sharply to the guard, 
 " What do you bring this Yank here for? " 
 
 " I reckon," replied the guard, " yer'l hev to ask 
 our adjutant, for dogoned if I know." 
 
 " What regiment ? Who's your adjutant ? '' 
 
 " The five Georgia — Cheatham, he's our ad- 
 jutant." 
 
 The officer smiled as if he understood, and just 
 then a tall, lean man, with humorous wrinkles 
 around his eyes, said as he came in, " It's all riglit, 
 Colonel ; this is the lieutenant we heard about." 
 
 Colonel Iverson (for this was the commanding 
 officer's name) looked me over with an amused 
 smile for an instant, and then a pitying or compas- 
 sionate look came into his face as he said, " My 
 poor fellow, can you write ? " 
 
 For answer I drew a piece of paper to me, seated 
 myself at the table, and wrote rapidly. 
 
418 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 " Can any good come out of Nazareth ? Come 
 and see ! " then added my name, rank, and regi- 
 ment; and handed it to him. He read it, passed 
 it to the adjutant, and said, "Very good; we'll 
 use you well out here." 
 
 " What do you wish me to do ? " I inquired, for 
 I did not intend to do anything inconsistent with 
 my allegiance to the old flag. 
 
 " There is some clothing which has just come 
 through our lines to be distributed to the prison- 
 ers ; and we wish you to take charge of it. You 
 must issue a receii^t for it." 
 
 I was only too willing, as the reader may imagine, 
 to do this. 
 
 "The adjutant will show you where the goods 
 are stored," continued Iverson ; then with a grin, 
 " You'd better issue some to yourself at once." 
 
 I found stoied in a log building near by, a large 
 quantity of clothing which had been sent from 
 Charleston by the U. S. Sanitary Commission, from 
 which I selected a suit, including underclothing, 
 hat, and shoes. 
 
 After a bath in a brook, where with soap I washed 
 away the prison filth, and with my courage and 
 confidence increasing with every article I put on, 
 I got into that suit. When I again entered Colonel 
 Iverson's quarters I felt that I was on equal terms 
 with him or any one else in the Confederacy. 
 
 He invited me to seat myself, and soon became 
 very social ; told me that I might use the office for 
 
FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. 419 
 
 my quarters, and send for such prisoners to assist 
 me as I thought best, to the number of four or 
 five. 
 
 After a good supper of fresh meat, bread, and 
 sweet potatoes, scarcely believing in my great good- 
 fortune, I rolled myself in my blanket and slept 
 before the office fire, which was built in a fireplace 
 made of sticks and mud. 
 
 The next morning I signed a parole, in which I 
 agreed not to go beyond certain limits, or com- 
 municate with the prisoners within the stockade 
 except by permission of the prison authorities. 
 
 I sent for Matt, Peter, Sam, and two others, who 
 were to assist me. 
 
 Sam Ryder was sick, but he could help write, 
 and his chances were better outside the stockade 
 than inside, especially if there without our assist- 
 ance and help. We formed a mess, installed Peter 
 as cook, and knew hunger no more during our stay 
 at Florence. 
 
 While issuing clothing, I came upon men who 
 had barely a stitch of clothing to their backs — 
 one had only a pair of drawers, another had a 
 ragged overcoat, but had no shirt, drawers, shoes, 
 or stockings. 
 
 Among the destitute ones was a mulatto ser- 
 geant of the 54th Mass. (colored troops), captured 
 at Fort Wagner, of whom I shall have more to say. 
 
 After a little over a week I finished my task and 
 had given out all the clothing, but had by no 
 
420 rOM CLIFTON. 
 
 means supplied the prisoners with what they 
 needed. 
 
 I reported to Colonel Iverson that my duty was 
 performed. I expected to be returned to the stock- 
 ade, but Adjutant Cheatham informed me that a 
 Confederate mail-agent had come to the post with a 
 large number of letters for distribution among the 
 prisoners, and that I might assist in distributing 
 them. 
 
 " My men," said Adjutant Cheatham, " can fight 
 like devils, but don't take much to fancy tricks, 
 like reading and writing." 
 
 I began at once to assist Mr. Christian, the 
 mail-agent, and while at work at this duty found 
 two letters for myself, one from my father, written 
 on a single letter page and giving only meagre 
 home news, according to conditions under which 
 such correspondence was allowed. 
 
 Good-fortune, like misfortune, seldom comes 
 singly. Of this I have had abundant evidence in 
 my life, as the events which followed proved. 
 
 Sam was so sick that, as he was promised good 
 attention, I consented to his going to the hospital 
 near us. 
 
 I soon finished distributing the mail, and was 
 lying on my bed in the corner of the office, when 
 Colonel Iverson came in and said, " Lieutenant, 
 there's groins to be an exchange of the sick in this 
 prison. Will you remain and put yowi clerks at 
 work to assist the paroling officer ? " 
 
FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. 421 
 
 I signified my willingness, and in the course of 
 two or three days we received the printed rolls 
 provided for this purpose, and began work. 
 
 The famished prisoners, rallying strength at the 
 thought of home and friends and food, came out 
 in squads, feebly cheering. They were cheers that 
 brought tears to the eyes, and I cannot recall the 
 scene, even now, after the lapse of more than a 
 quarter of a century, without bringing a throng of 
 sad remembrances. 
 
 Among those who came out to sign the rolls 
 was my poor cousin Sam Ryder. 
 
 I heard behind me some one saying in a tremu- 
 lous, high-pitched whine, peculiar to these men, 
 " You'll have to sign my name, Tom. I used to 
 write, but I can't see, and my hand trembles so," 
 and found it was Sam. 
 
 " I guess we shall see the color of the old flag," 
 he said, trying to smile, " neow share 'nuff, Tom ! " 
 
 Among others who pressed forward was the 
 colored sergeant of the 54th Massachusetts, before 
 mentioned — Jeffers, I think, was his name. 
 
 He had signed his name to the rolls without 
 comment of the paroling officer, when a man with 
 thick lips and as black as the ace of spades 
 pressed forward to put his name with the others. 
 The paroling officer, with an oath and lifting his 
 foot at the same time to emphasize it, exclaimed 
 angrily, " Get back, you nigger you." 
 
 I saw the sergeant of the 54th Massachusetts, 
 
422 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 who had set his face toward home and friends and 
 freedom, hesitate for a moment, then he turned to 
 the paroling officer and said in those deep, husky 
 tones men use when terribly in earnest, " Take 
 my name from your list, sir ! 1, too, am a colored 
 man ; these are my people, and I will live and die 
 with them." 
 
 And then for a sentiment dearer than freedom 
 and life, he turned his back upon home antl friends, 
 and entered again the gloomy prison gates to die 
 amid its terrible scenes. 
 
 I thought then, and I have often said since, it 
 was one of the grandest things I ever saw. 
 
 " We have no need to despair for the black race," 
 said my father, to whom I afterwards told the 
 incident, " when humble men can die like that." 
 
 I was included in this parole of the sick, as were 
 also Peter and Matt, and it was a happy day when 
 we turned our faces toward home and the old flag 
 once more. 
 
 We embarked on the top of freight cars, and rode 
 all night. Thcnigh it was very cold and windy, we 
 were content, for were we not going home ? 
 
 We arrived at Charleston, were marched through 
 its streets once more, and put in the jail-yard. 
 
 Here we waited all the next day for a heavy fog 
 to clear away, so that the flag of truce boat, con- 
 taining the prisoners, would not be fired upon 
 while crossing into our lines. 
 
 We were not in very comfortable quarters, and, 
 
FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. 423 
 
 as Sam was sick and feeble, we gladly availed our- 
 selves of the offer of a Northern man attached to 
 the rebel ambulance corps to take us to better 
 quarters, at the Roper Hospital, where we had a 
 fire and plenty of room. 
 
 The last and saddest sight I saw in Charleston 
 was when (the third day after our arrival) we took 
 poor Sam out to the sidewalk to be carried to our 
 flag of truce boat. 
 
 " This man won't live to get there ! " roughly 
 exclaimed the brutal, red-headed surgeon in charge. 
 "Take him out of the ambulance." 
 
 He was removed and laid on the sidewalk, 
 gasping. 
 
 Peter clutched his fist angrily and went toward 
 the rebel surgeon, when Matt said in a low tone, 
 " It's no use, Peter ! God rest his soul ! Sam is 
 dead." It was too true, and his last articulate 
 words were, " It's hard." Yes, it was hard to be 
 so near and yet so far from home. 
 
 That afternoon we sailed down the harbor, were 
 out in the broad blue sea, were la*shed to our 
 receiving-ship, and silently — but I trust rever- 
 ently — thanking God for his great mercy in once 
 more bringing us under the protection of the flag 
 of our country. 
 
 It is a singular study in human nature that 
 these starved and long-suffering men were very 
 quiet and undemonstrative in their joy. 
 
 There were no cheers, but many half-plaintive, 
 joyful faces. 
 
424 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 We arrived at the parole camp at Annapolis, 
 Md., on December 25, 1864, and I at once tele- 
 graphed to my father of our arrival. 
 
 Shortly after we received the tidings of Sher- 
 man's successful march from Atlanta to the Sea. 
 
 My commission as first lieutenant was for- 
 warded to me here. 
 
 The last of January I was furloughed and given 
 the money for commutation of rations and three 
 months' extra pay (as were other prisoners), by 
 order of the War Department. 
 
 I arrived at Lakeview on the 18th of February, 
 1865, accompanied by Matt and Peter. 
 
 On account of our hardships in prison, none of 
 us were again able to report for duty, and, after an 
 extension of our furloughs, were at last mustered 
 out of the service on account of the close of the war. 
 
 One of the first persons whom we met on our 
 return to Lakeview was Mrs. Perkles. She had 
 taken possession of Peter's sod house, and as Peter 
 hated to turn her out into the cold, of which she 
 complained grievously, and as he wished to occupy 
 his own house which had Mrs. Perkles as a fix- 
 ture, he proposed a partnership, which was ac- 
 cepted and exists to this day. He has a good 
 farm and a large family, and owes not a little of 
 his prosperity to his Tennessee partner. 
 
 It was about two years after the surrender of 
 Johnston's army that ex-Confederate General Pres- 
 
FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. 425 
 
 ton visited us at Lakeview. He had but little to 
 say about the war, but so much for himself that 
 my sister Bess married this one-armed Southern 
 soldier, and returned with him to the South to 
 build up his fortunes. His Northern wife has at 
 last so thoroughly reconstructed him, that he says 
 he is glad that the war ended with the abolition of 
 slavery, and that he would now be as willing to 
 fight for " one country and one flag" as he was to 
 fight for a contrary jDrinciple when the war began. 
 
 Soon after my return home I wrote a letter to 
 the Sibleys to thank them for their kindness to 
 me at their home. I did not receive a reply for 
 months, and then one came from Miss Marion. 
 She informed me that her father was dead — died, 
 she said, of a broken heart because Sherman's 
 thieves stole all their property and ran off all 
 their servants except old Si (and he was too old 
 and dependent to leave); that she was still loyal to 
 the cause of secession ; and much more in the 
 same style. 
 
 The expressions of her letter were so unrepent- 
 antly rebellious that I put aside all thoughts I 
 may have had of reconstructing her non-union 
 sentiments. 
 
 Aleck came to us a few years after with a wife 
 and four children. He is never tired of telling of 
 his war experience, and especially proud of the 
 fact that he was an " ossifer in the army — a cor- 
 peral ! " 
 
426 TOM CLIFTON. 
 
 " Clar ter gracious 'f yer had seed me make dem 
 men git 'round by the right wheel and de lef 
 flank, ye'rd know'd I war a right smart ossifer ! " 
 
 He has built for himself a sod house on my 
 father's farm, and is now its faithful superintend- 
 ent. 
 
 In 1866 Matt and I formed a co-partnership and 
 began a lumber business, at first in a small way, 
 by bujdng and cutting the timber that remained 
 on the island in the lake. 
 
 Our business has gradually extended until it, 
 together with our growing land interest in Min- 
 neapolis, has led to our removal to that city. 
 
 My aunt comes down from Lakeview occasion- 
 ally, and at unexpected moments calls at our office. 
 She never comes up by the elevator, but prefers 
 the stairway, because she declares, " There's no 
 knowin' where that freak o' natur' (the elevator) 
 will light." 
 
 Yesterday afternoon, M'hile returning home, 
 Colonel Ryan called my attention to a flaming 
 handbill which announced that the Reverand Uriah 
 Johnson, of Lakeview, would lecture on " Battles 
 and Scenes in the Civil War, in which he bore a 
 conspicuous and distinguished part." 
 
 If my readers come to the city of Minneapolis 
 they will find our latch-string out at the Lumber 
 Exchange, and will be welcomed, especially if Col- 
 onel Ryan can persuade them to buy a corner lot 
 in the "Clifton Addition," or the material for 
 
 building a house, 
 o 
 
FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. 427 
 
 While " Clifton & Ryan " are reputed " to be 
 hustlers," I trust that neither of us has forgotten 
 the lessons impressed upon him early in life : that 
 wealth and success of every kind are secondary to 
 righteousness — right doing and right thinking. 
 
 My father, hale and vigorous in his eighty- 
 third year, still lives at Lake view, and has never 
 regretted that he came to the " Great North-west," 
 where he retrieved fortune and health. 
 
WAR STORIES BY WARREN LEE GOSS. 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. A Story of the 
 Array of the Potomac. By Warren Lee Goss, author of " Jed." 
 With over 80 ilkistrations by Chapiii and Shelton. Royal 8vo. 
 Cloth, $3.25 ; seal russia, $4.25 ; half morocco, $5.00. 
 
 Among the many books about the Civil War there is none which 
 more clearly describes what took place among the rank and file of the 
 Union Army, while on the march or on the battle-field, than the story 
 given by Mr. Goss in this volume. 
 
 It is one of the handsomest, as well as one of the most valuable works ia 
 American war literature. — Boston Globe. 
 
 No volume of war history has given the reader more graphic descriptions of 
 army life. . . . The writer speaks from knowledge and not from theory. — 
 Chicago Inter Ocean. 
 
 From General Rosecrans, Register of Treasury 
 
 Treasury Dep.vrtment, Rkgisteh's Office. 
 
 Washington, D.C, Sept. 24, 1800. 
 ... It may seem strange, but it is true, tliat I have had comparatively little 
 time to devote to war literature, but I derived much pleasure from the perusal 
 of this book. Its raciness of style, accuracy of statement, and often pathos of 
 the story, so much interested me that I devoted a whole evening to it. It is all 
 the more pleasant because from my own knowledge, I believe it to be a fair rep- 
 resentation of the spirit of that great body of patriotic men, the private soldiers 
 of the Union Array; and I hope it may be largely read, not only by old soldiers, 
 but also by other citizens, young and old. 
 
 Yours truly, W. S. Rosecrans. 
 
 ,JED. A Boy's Adventures in the Army of 1861-'65. 
 
 A Story of Battle and Prison, of Peril and Escape. By Warhen 
 Lee GosS; author of " The Soldier's Story of his Captivity at An- 
 dersonville and other Prisons," " The Recollections of a Private" 
 (in the Century War Series). Fully illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 In this story the author has aimed to furnish true pictures of scenes 
 in the great Civil War, and not to produce sensational effects. The 
 incidents of the book are real ones, drawn largely from the writer's 
 personal experiences and observations as a soldier of the Union din-ing 
 that war. The descriptions of life in the Southern prisons are 
 especially graphic. It is one of the best war stories ever written. 
 Boys will read it with avidity. 
 
 Of all the many stories of the Civil War that have been published it is not 
 possible to mention one which for sturdy realism, intensity of interest, and range 
 of narrative can compare with Jed. — Boston Beacon. 
 
 A book that every boy in the country will want to read the moment he sees 
 it, and it is as instructive as entertaining. — Brooklyn Union. 
 
 A thrilling story of bravery, endurance, and final success. — Boston Home 
 Jnnrnal. 
 
 For sale by all Booksellers. Complete Catalogue sent to any address 
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 THOMAS Y. CROWELL & 00., Publishers, New York, 
 
MRS. BOLTON'S FAMOUS BOOKS. 
 
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 " Ahvays written in a bright and fresh style." — Boston Home Journal. 
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 TOM CLIFTON; OR, WESTERN BOYS IN GRANT 
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 the reader than in this volume. It is a story full of enthusiasm, with exciting ad- 
 ventures, genial fun, and of high purpose. 
 
 THE MOTHER OF THE KING'S CHILDREN. By the 
 
 Rev. J. F. Cowan, author of the "Jo-Boat Boys." With an introduction by 
 the Rev. F. E. Clark, D.D. Illustrated. i2mo, $1.50. 
 A book of much merit, quite above tlie average, and will d.i good wherever read. 
 Especially will it deepen an interest in practical religious work. 
 
 LITTLE ARTHUR'S HISTORY OF ROME. By Heze- 
 
 KTAH Butterworth, author of the " Zigzag Books," etc. A companion 
 volume to " Little Arthur's England and France." Illustrated. 121110, $1.25. 
 No one better understands the requirements of the young than Mr. Butterwortli, 
 and his book will foster an appetite for classical studies. 
 
 SHORT STUDIES IN BOTANY FOR CHILDREN. 
 
 By Mrs. Harriet C. Cooper. Fully illustrated. i2mo, $1.00. 
 Many teachers and parents have found that Botany mav be made attractive to very 
 young children. Mrs. Cooper's little volume contains a practical demonstration of 
 this. 
 
 For sale by all booksellers. Catalogues sent free upon application. 
 
 T. Y. CROWELL & CO., - New York and Boston. 
 
PUBLICATIONS FDR YDUNB PEOPLE. 
 
 A SCORE OF FAMOUS COMPOSERS. By Nathan 
 
 Haskell Dole, formerly musical editor of the Philadelphia Press and Evening 
 'Bulletin. With portraits of Beethoven, Wagner, Liszt, Haydn, etc. i2mo, $1.50. 
 No pains have been spared to make this volume of musical biographies accurate, and at 
 the same time entertaining. Many quaint and curious details have been found in out-of- 
 the-way German or Italian sources. Beginning with Palestrina, " the Prince of Music," 
 concerning whose life many interesting discoveries have been recently made, and ending 
 with Wagner, the twenty Composers, while in the majority of German origin, still embrace 
 representatives of England and Italy, Hungary and Russia, of France and Poland. 
 Free from pedantry and technicalities, simple and straightforward in style, these sketches 
 aim above all to acquaint the reader, and particularly the young, with the personality of 
 the subjects, to make them live again while recounting their struggles and triumphs. 
 
 FAMOUS ENGLISH STATESMEN. By Sarah K. Bol- 
 
 TON, author of " Poor Boys Who became Famous." With Portraits of Gladstone, 
 
 John Bright, Robert Peel, etc. i2mo, S1.50. 
 Mrs. Bolton has found a peculiarly congenial subject in her latest contribi'tion to the 
 series of " Famous " books. Nearly all of the English statesmen whose biographies she 
 so sympathetically recounts, have been leaders in great works of reform ; and with many 
 Mrs. Bolton had the privilege of personal acquai.itance. She has given succinct, yet suffi- 
 ciently detailed descriptions of the chief labors of these statesmen, and the young reader 
 will find them stirring and stimulating, full of anecdotes and bright sayings. 
 
 THE JO-BOAT BOYS. By Rev. J. F. Cowan, D.D., editor of 
 
 "Our Young People," etc. Illustrated by H. W. Peirce. i2mo, $1.50. 
 The shanty boats which shelter the amphibious people along the banks of the Ohio are 
 called Jo- Boats, and Dr. Cowan has chosen this original environment for the earlier 
 scenes of his remarkably lively and spi-ited story. It will appeal to every boy who hasoa 
 spark of zest in his soul. 
 
 AN ENTIRE STRANGER. By Rev. T. L. Baily. Illustrated. 
 i2mo, $1.25. 
 The heroine of Mr. Bally's naive and fascinating story is a school-teacher who is full 
 of resources, and understands how to bring out the diverse capabilities of her scholars. 
 She wins the love and admiration of her school, and interests them in many improve- 
 ments. It is a thoroughly practical book, and we should be glad to see it in the hands of 
 all teachers and their scholars. 
 
 THROWN UPON HER OWN RESOURCES; OR, 
 
 WHAT GIRLS CAN DO. Bj "Jenny June" (Mrs. 
 
 Croly). A book for girls. i2mo, $1.25. 
 
 Mrs. Croly, the able editor of The Home Maker, in this book for girls, shows in her 
 
 practical, common-sense way, what chances there are open to young women, when the 
 
 necessity comes for self-support. The wise, prudent words of one w^ho has had so much 
 
 experience in dealing with the problems of life will be welcomed by a large class of 
 
 readers. 
 
 LED IN UNKNOWN PATHS. By Anna F. Raffensperger. 
 
 Illustrated. lamo, $1.25. ,,.,,. . u . •. 
 
 A simple, unpretentious diary of homely, every-day life. It is so true to nature that it 
 
 reads like a transcript from an actual journal. It is full of good-humor, quiet fun, gentle 
 
 pathos, and good sound sense. One follows with surprising interest the daily doings, the 
 
 pleasures and trials of the good family whose life is pictured m its pages. 
 
 HALF A DOZEN GIRLS. By Anna Chapin Ray, author of 
 
 " Half a Dozen Bovs." Illustrated. i2mo, $1.25. . 
 
 A b'^ok for girls displaying unusual insight into human nature with a quiet, sly humor, 
 a iaculty of ir.vesting every-day events with a dramatic interest, a photograph.ic touch, 
 and a tiiie mor.il tone. It ought to be a favorite with many giris. 
 
 THOMAS Y. CEOWELL & CO., Publishers, New York. 
 
 (17) 
 
InpoRTANT Historical Works. 
 
 THE FOUNDING OF THE GERMAN EMPIRE. 
 
 Hased chiefly upon Pi-ussi;in State Uocumeiits, by Heiniuch VON Sybel. Trans- 
 lated bv ATarshall Liviii}4Stoii Pen-in, assisted by Gamaliel Bradford, Jr. Completed 
 in s vols. Cloth, per set, $10.00; half nior., $20.00. 
 
 "No more important historical work has appeared in the last decade." -^ iVn//o«. 
 
 " Impossible to praise too highly." — Chicago Standard. 
 
 " A triumph of historical description." — Detroit Free Press. 
 
 A HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 By Victor Duruv, member of the French Academy. Abridged and translated 
 from the seventeenth French edition, by Mrs. M. Carey, with an introductoi-y notice 
 and a continuation to the year 1S90, by J. Franklin Jameson, Ph.D., Professor of 
 Historv in Brown Universitv. With 12 engraved colored maps. In one volume. 
 i2mo. ' Cloth, $2.00. Half calf, $4.00. 
 
 " Of all the short summaries of French History, this is probably the best." — Ex- 
 Presideiit Andrezv D. White, Cornell University. 
 
 A book widely desired by schools, colleges and libraries, students and general 
 readers. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 By Louis Antoine Fauvelkt de Bourkienne, his Private Secretary. Edited 
 by Col. R. W. Phipps. New and revised edition, with 34 full-page portraits and 
 other illustrations. 4 vols. i2mo. Cloth, plain, $5.00. Cloth, gilt top, paper label, 
 $6.00. Half calf, $12.00. Limited edition with over 100 illustrations, gilt top, halt 
 leather, $10.00. The latest American edition, and theonly one with a complete index. 
 
 " If you want something to read both interesting and amusing, get the ' Memoires 
 de Bourrieiine.' These are the only authentic memoirs of Napoleon which have as 
 yet appeared." — Prince Mttternich. 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE. 
 
 A Storv of the Army of the Potomac. By Warren Lee Goss, author of "Jed." 
 With over So illustrations by Chapin and Shelton. Royal Svo., cloth, $3.00. Seal 
 russia, $4.00. Half morocco, $5.00. 
 
 "No volume of war history has given the reader more graphic descriptions of 
 army life." — Inter Ocean. 
 
 " One of the handsomest as well as one of the most valuable works in American 
 war literature." — Boston Globe. 
 
 HER MAJESTY'S TOWER. 
 
 By W. Hepwortu Dixon. New edition, complete in one volume. A history of 
 the Tower of London, from the seventh London edition, with 47 illustrations. Royal 
 i2mo. Cloth, $2.00. Half calf, $4.00. 'llie result of twenty years' research. 
 
 "The best possible introduction a stranger can have fo that famous building." — 
 Christian Union. 
 
 THE NARRATIVE OF CAPTAIN COIGNET, 
 
 SOLDIER OF THE EMPIRE, 1776-1850. 
 
 An autobiographical account of one of Napoleon's Body-Guard. Fully illustrated. 
 i2mo., half leather, $2.50. Half calf, $5.00. 
 
 " It is meagre praise to say that it is interesting. It is more than that. It is a 
 panorama." — Minneapolis Journal. 
 
 "As direct as Robinson Crusoe, vived almost bevond expression." —-ffo5/o« 
 Herald. 
 
 For sale by all Booksellers. Catalogues sent free upon application 
 
 T. Y. CROWELL& CO., New York! Boston. 
 
NEW BOO KS AND NEW EDITIONS. 
 
 THE EVERY DAY OF LIFE. By the Rev. J. R. Miller, 
 
 D.D., author of " Silent Times," " Making the Most of Life," etc. i6mo, gilt 
 top, parti-cloth, $i.oo; idino, white and gold, gilt edges, $1.25 ; levant morocco, 
 flexible, gilt edges, $2.50. 
 Hearty words of love and sympatliy designed to lielp and cheer those who are 
 weary with the treadmill of daily cares and perplexities. 
 
 WORDSWORTH'S POEMS- (Selections.) Illustrated in 
 photogravure by E. H. Garkett. Printed on fine dekle-edge, laid pajier. 
 i2mo, cloth, ornamental design. Gilt top, cloth box, $2.50; full leather, gilt 
 
 Tills is the selection made by the late Matthew Arnold and includes tlie cream of 
 Wordsworth's verse. Mr. Garrett, the artist, has here found a peculiarly congenial 
 field, and his admirable drawings in the interpretation of the text will be fully 
 appreciated. 
 
 WALTON'S ANGLER. New edition. Complete in two volumes 
 witli all the original S6 illustrations of Major's edition and photogravure 
 frontispieces. 2 vols. i6mo, cloth, gilt top, $2.50. 
 Even tliose who do not fish love the quaint style of the " divine Izaak," and there 
 
 is no better edition than Major's, or this reproduction of that time-honored classic. 
 
 POLLY BUTTON'S NEW YEAR. By Mrs. C. F. Wilder. 
 
 i2mo. Unique parti-clotli binding, .75. 
 Miss Polly Button, reduced in fortune, makes herself a power in her cliurch by 
 applying her Christianity to every-day life. 
 
 EQUITABLE TAXATION. A series of Prize Essays by 
 
 Wai.teu E. W'eyl, Robert Luce, Bolton Hall, and others. Introduction 
 
 by the Hoh. Jonathan A. Lane. Biographical sketches and portraits. i2mo, .75. 
 
 Nothing is more evident than that there is a crying need for change in our unjust 
 
 tax laws. A most stimulating and valuable book. 
 
 DAILY FOOD. New illustrated edition, with 12 photo-engravings. 
 
 iSmo. Parti-cloth, gilt edge, .75; iSmo, lavender and gold, gilt edge, .75; iSmo 
 
 French silk, gilt edge, $1.25. 
 Tliousauds of this little classic have been sold. The present edition is most 
 attractive in appearance, neatly printed from new plates, exquisitely illustrated, and 
 handsomely bound. 
 
 A PLEA FOR THE GOSPEL. By the Rev. George D. 
 
 IIeuron, author of "The Message of Jesus," "The Larger Christ." i6mo, 
 
 parti-cloth, gilt top, .75. 
 Tlie author's previous volumes have been hailed by men of all denominations as 
 the work of a writer intellectually and spiritually cast in the mould of Maurice, Mul- 
 for I, and Brooks. 
 
 MONICA, THE MESA MAIDEN. By Mrs. Evelyn H. 
 
 Raymond. Illustrated. i2mo, ;Ji.2i;. 
 Monica is a Spanish girl of Southern California, who lives in a quaint old house 
 of adobe, surrounded with vines and flowers. She meets with strange adventures 
 which result in the unravelling of a complicated chain of destiny. 
 
 LES MISER ABLES. Bv Victor Hugo. Translated by Isabel 
 F. Hapgood. New edition. Complete in two volumes, with 32 full-page illus- 
 trations. i2mo. Cloth, gilt top, boxed, J3. 00. White back, fancy p.aper sides, 
 gilt top, $3.00. 
 
 TENNYSON'S POEMS. New edition. Complete in two 
 volumes Illustrated with two pliotogravures and numerous wood engravings 
 by the best artists. 2 vols. i2ino. Gilt top, $3x0; white back, fancy paper 
 sides, gilt top, j?3.oo. 
 
 For sale by all booksellers. Catalogues sent free upon application. 
 
 T. Y. CROWELL & CO., - New York and Boston. 
 
 (24) 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 I^NIVERSITY OF 
 i^ORTH CAROLINA 
 AT 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 505 
 
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RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 505 
 
 1