"/give thefe Books. \,fiir.-thefiif0ii&^-.ef.^..^ett^gei.^^ Coloitf. Bought with the income ofthe Ellen Battell Eldridge Fund IVO RECOLLECTIONS or A Rebel Surgeon (AND OTHER SKETCHES) OR IN THE DOCTOE'S SAPPY DAYS. BY F. E. DANIEL, M. D. ILLUSTRATED. 1899: VON BOECKMANN, SCHUTZE & CO. AUSTIN, TEXAS. COPYBIOHT, 1899, by T. E. DANIEL. CcCl.iO TO THE MEMORY OF MY FRIEND, THE GENIAL ANO GENTLE SWEARINGEN, KNIGHTLY SOLDIER, WISE PHYSICIAN, MODEL MAN, THIS UNPRETENTIOUS LITTLE BOOK IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED. ERRATA. On page 123, 3rd and 4th lines, for "primative" read "primitive," and for "solider's" read "soldier's". On pages 124 and 125, for "malinguerers" read "ma lingerers". On page 129, for "Grant" read "Sherman". On page 157, for "Chattanooga Telegraph" read "Chattanooga Rebel". On page 219, near bottom, for "funeral" read "fu nereal". On page 232, for "conquored" read "conquered". [There may be others; these are all I have found. — D.] CONTENTS. Introductory. The Old Doctor Talks: His Betroscope. Sunshine Soldiering. Disinterested Solicitude. The Doctor Gets Dinner. How the Big Dog Went. Bill aud the Bumble-bee's Nest. The Doctor Takes Supper With One of the F. F. V's. The Doctor Routs the Federal Army. A Violent Eruption of "Lorena." Crossing the Cumberland. An Extensive Acquaintance. A Brush With the Seminary Girls. The Doctor Takes Breakfast With the Yankees. Perryville: The Doctor Scents the Battle From Afar. Questionable "Spoils." Recollections of Bacon (Likewise, of Pork). Somebody's Darling. A "Small Game," and a Big Stake. The Little Captain's Toast, and What Happened. Bushw hackers After the Doctor. A Frog Story. Poking Fun at the Medical Director. Dr. Dick Taylor, of Memphis. A Close Call: A Bad Run, and a Worse Stand. The Doctor Smuggles Contraband Supplies. The Hospital Soldier. The Hospital Dietary. A "Medical" High-Daddy. His Idea of Happiness. Why He Was Weary. Hospital Experiences. Enchanted and Disenchanted. The Clever Quartermaster: A Romance of Army Life in Chattanooga. Love's Stratagem: The Doctor Puts Up a Job on the Major. Story of a Stump. When the Dogwoods Were in Bloom; A Fish Story With Trimmin's. Confederate States Shot Factory: ("Limited.") (Very.) Dr. Yandell and the Turkey. Old Sister Nick: Piety and Pies. Wisdom in a Multitude of Counsel. (Nit.) A Night at Meridian. A Chapter for Doctors Only. In the Land of the Blue Dog. Jimmle Was All Right. Circumstances Alter Cases: Any Port in a Storm. Uncle Hardy Mullins; The Ways of Providence. The Little Hu-gag, aud the Great American ]Phil-li-lieu. The Doctor Sees a Lady Home. Fine Points in Diagnosis. One on Thompson. Halcyon Days. The Doctor's Lament. The Doctor Seeks Comfort in the Bible: What He Found. ILLUSTRATIONS AN EXTENSIVE ACQUAINTANCE. "How are you, Dick-ey?" THE STORY OF A STUMP. "Hurried to join the boys at the front." "Fighting, foremost, fell." "Carried bleeding to the rear." "Cut 'er oflf. Doctor." "Poor old Confed. Despised old Rebel." SISTER nick: piety AND PIES. "The Lord will purvide." "Ellen, the pie-ist." IN the land of the blue dog. "Wh-i-c-h?" "This is hit." "Doin' nothin' but lookin' sorry." INTRODUCTORY. Office Texas Medioal JonRNAL, Austin, Texas, 1899. THE OLD DOCTOE— the narrator of these reminiscences, is well known to the readers • of The Texas Medical Journal. He is the Journal's "Pat Philosopher," "Our Genial Friend," "The Jolly Old Doctor," etc., as he is variously called, through whom the editor has for some years gotten off "good jokes," especially on himself ; and who, now and then, has been in the habit of drop ping in in the Journal's sanctum and regaling ye tired editor and employes with his humorous views of things. It is an interesting and somewhat remarkable fact that most Southern men, especially of the older generation, however well educated, and who write and speak the English language correctly, nevertheless, in their familiar social intercourse make use of expressions which they know to be grammatically incorrect. I attribute it largely, if not altogether, to early associations with the black slaves of the South, our nurses in childhood. It is disappearing with the younger generations. It is not "slang" so much as a corruption or mispro nunciation of words, or the lack of a distinct pro- ] EECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. nunciation of each syllable, and the consequent running together of words. For illustration, take the very general use of such words as "ca'nt," "dont," "aint," "wa'nt," "twa'nt," "narry," (never a) etc., words proper enough if pronounced and used as they should be ; but custom has sanctioned the use of a plural noun with a verb singular, and vice versa, and we have such vulgarisms as "they das'nt" (dares not), and "he dont," etc. There are many words and expressions in general use in the South which have become idiomatic, hav ing lost their original meaning, and acquired a significance altogether different. "Shonuff," one of the commonest words in daily use in the more familiar intercourse, — for, in polite society when one is on his "p's" and "q's" he doesn't use such words, — is used in a sense of "real" or "true," as opposed to false or pretended, and not in the sense of "sure enough" or of "certainty." Another word of the kind is "sorter." One would think it was used in a sense of "sort of" or "kind of," but not so. "Sorter" indicates degree. But of all the words of this kind in general use, and with a per verted meaning, I believe that "tollible" is the com monest and most generally employed by black and white, and by well educated persons. Naturally one would suppose -that it meant "tolerable," that which can be tolerated, or borne. But it has ac quired a meaning altogether different, and is used and intended as a qualifying adverb. Few persons 2 INTEODUCTORT. seem able to find any other word with which to express the state of health of either themselves or their family; and when interrogated on that head, the invariable reply is "tollible," or "just tollible." I have been told of an old farmer who looked up the word in the dictionary, and was much disgusted to find it spelled, as he said, "entirely wrong," and having a meaning altogether different from the accepted one; and he said: "Webster is away off on 'tollible.' He spells it with an 'er,' and says it means 'that which can be ¦endured or tolerated,' when you and I and every other fool knows that it dont mean any such thing. I say 'my health is tollible.' Dont any fool know that good health is not endured or borne or tol erated?" N"otwithstanding what has been said about en during or tolerating good health, there is a large class of Southern people who invariably speak of "enjoyin' very poor health," in a sense of "havimg" poor health. Of this class of expression I must mention the very general use of "I used to could," or "I used to couldn't" do a certain thing. There is another peculiarity of the Southern ver nacular: It is the pronunciation, or rather, the mispronunciation of certain words. For instance : "We do not say "corn," but "cawn"; New York is "New Yawk"; Saturday is "Saddy," and dog is "dawg." RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. Some years ago while attending a meeting of the American Medical Association in Washington city, as a delegate from Texas, I had the honor to be the guest of my distinguished friend, the late Doctor Baxter, Surgeon-General of the army. He, like myself, was very fond of fishing ; and after the business was finished which took me to Washing ton, we went down the Potomac to "Four-Mile- Eun" fishing for "porgies," the doctor called them. I didn't know what a '"porgie" was; they don't grow in Texas. Presently the doctor caught a fish that was new to me, and I asked : "Doctor, is that a 'porgie' or a trout?" He laughed immoderately at my pronunciation of "trout." He said: "Listen at Dan'els calling a 'trowt' (heavy accent on the "w") a 'trut.' " I said: "Listen at Baxter calling a trout a 'trowt.' " That was Vermont against Virginia; and while there was a big difference in our pronunciation, I observed with some surprise that he said "listen at." Until that time I had supposed that "listen at" was a Southern vulgarism. Many words are pronounced differently north and south. There are many exceptions. There is one brilliant exception which I trust indulgent readers will pardon me for mentioning in this connection : It is a proper noun, and is universally mispro nounced. Yea, from Maine to Mexico; from Key 4 INTRODUCTORY. West to Klondike; from Carolina to far Cathay; from Alabama to the Aleutian Islands, — by native and foreign, — by Jew, Gentile, Pagan and Poet; by Scot and Hun, Prank and Celt, saint and sin ner, the patrician patronym "Daniel" is called "Dan'els," with a long accent on the first syllable, and an extra "s" is tacked on. I have studied "Trenck on Words"; I have dip ped more or less into philology, and I can under stand how the beautiful Virginia name "Pontle- roy" same down through the generations from "Enfants de le Roi," the inscription on the banner of the Crusaders carried by the ancestors of that old family; I can understand that "Toliver" and "Smith" are the same name; "Toliver" being a corruption of "Talliafero," which means a "worker in iron," — hence, a smith, — hence, "Smith." But for the life of me I cannot understand by what uni versal perverseness my name should be and is dis torted into "Dan'els." It is provoking; but, then, what are you going to do about it? For the purposes of these few brief and unpre tentious sketches the Old Doctor is a portly gentle man of sixty years of age, with a benevolent counte nance which is always upon the point of breaking out into wreathes of smiles, while little dabs of humor hang from the corners of his mouth, and fun twinkles in his honest blue eyes. He resides at the classical village of "Hog Wallow," this county, and he honors the Journal with a visit every time he 5 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. comes to Austin. He is a typical Virginia gentle man of the older generation, and like all others of his class, when his reserve is thrown off, in familiar social intercourse, he uses the idioms that characterize the educated men of the Old South. Unknown to the doctor, we rigged up a phono graph inside of the desk at which he always sits, concealed by a thin curtain, and we have been en abled thus to catch his interesting talks with all the sparkle and snap of spontaneity, — their prin- ' cipal charm. As will be seen upon examination, the following reminiscences are mostly humorous (alleged) ; some are sad; some pathetic; and they were all actual occurrences; no fiction, but all fact. They do not relate to the professional duties of the army surgeon, — (as might be supposed from the title of the book), — ^but very little; but are, for the most part, recollections of fun, frolic, fishing or flirting, as the case may be, "endurin' of the war," in the doctor's "sappy" days. To these have been added a few of the Old Doctor's later-day observations, which, while irrelevant to the subject proper, it is thought are too good to keep. F. E. Daniel, M. D. RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON, THE OLD DOCTOR TALKS— HIS RETROSCOPE. Office Texas Medical Journal, Austin, Texas, 1899. THE OLD DOCTOE sat down in our easy chair, as usual, it being, by common consent, even of the ofiice boy, understood to be pre empted by and for him whenever he should drop in; and without any preliminaries, began: When the war broke out I was not quite twenty- two. The battle of Bull Eun (18th of July, 1861) was fought on my twenty-second birthday, and I was there with a musket, a private soldier. I cast my maiden vote against secession, I want it remembered; by posterity, especially, as it is a matter of great importance to the truth of history. I was opposed to secession, not because I thought the South was not justified, under the circum stances, but because I did not believe there was f. possibility of the South's being permitted to "go ¦7 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. in peace." The love of the Union was strong, and the opposition to slavery, the result of the fifty years quarrel over it, had attained almost the aspects of a religious crusade. What the South claimed as a right, guaranteed by the Constitution, the North regarded as a monstrous wrong, an evil which had been tolerated as long as an advanced civilization and a growing humanity would permit, and the abolition party, the strongest in the North, practically said : "Constitution be hanged, the evil of slavery is a blot on civilization and must go"; and it went, — and I am glad it went. Although a slave owner myself, and my family had been for generations, I was an advocate of gradual emanci pation. Hence, recognizing that, call it by what ever name we will, put the pretext for secession on "principle," State Eights, or what not; refine it as we will, slavery was the real issue of the war ; and it goes without saying that had the South gained independence slavery would, in all human proba bility, have still been an "institution" in the coun try. Hence, as I said, I was opposed to the war from every standpoint. In the first- place the hope of coping successfully against such great odds as the South had to encounter was a forlorn hope, indeed; and if there were any in the South who hoped for "peaceable secession" they were badly left. But when the State, my State, then, — Missis sippi, seceded,- and the alternative was to take up arms for or against the South, there were no two THE OLD DOCTOR TALKS. ways about it, and I joined the first company ready to leave my town. So, the war came on ; my vote didn't stop it you see, and everybody had to go in the army. Those that did'nt volunteer were made to "volunteer"; see ? Funny thing how some fellers can sit in offices and send you and me and every other feller out to fight, whether we want to go or not ; when, in fact, we had rather stay at home and play marbles, or hunt the festive squirrel, or spark the girls; eh, Dan'els ? And, Dan'els (he always would call me "Dan 'els, confound him), looking back at it now through the vista of thirty odd years, — you are, I believe, a just man, a good man, — my wife says I am, but then she is partial, you know, I don't see how you and I and others of our sort could ever for a moment have tolerated, condoned, thought slavery was right. Well, we were born into the world and found it here, and thought not much about it at first. But there is no consideration that could now induce us to have it restored; we are happily rid of it.- Why, we smile at the blindness and bigotry of good "'old Mrs. Watson," who was so grieved because she could not Christianize Huck Finn; at the same time she was offering a reward of $200 for the arrest of her run-away-nigger, Jim, and proposed to sell him for $800. Yet she was but the type of many thousands of truly pious peo ple in the South, who saw nothing un-Christian RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. in selling a "nigger." And that, Dan'els, only thirty odd years ago. Doesn't is look paradoxical even to us, the survivors of the terrible struggle ? But look here, Dan'els, I don't like to talk about unpleasant things; it's against my principles, and it's against the principles of my Eetroscope. "What is your Eetroscope, Doctor ?" Dan'els, said he, when you were a boy did you ever look through the butt-end of a telescope ? "Yes, of course," said I; "why?" Didn't it make things look away off yonder? That's the way the war looks now; it .seems like it was a thousand years ago. But I have an instru ment of my own invention which not only brings things near, like a telescope does when the little end is used; but when I look into the past it has not only the faculty of making things look like 'twas only yesterday, but it brings the past in re view before me in sections, with the added effect of bringing out, conspicuously and in bold relief, all the pleasant things, all the funny things, all the amusing or ridiculous memories, and of sup pressing or effacing the painful, disagreeable ones, or rounding off the rough edges, at least. It's a fact. When we look back at the war, with all its horrors and sufferings, it is remarkable that my memory brings to light mainly the funny side, or the pleasant side of those days of privations and sacrifice and suffering. I reckon my Eetroscope is something like Edi- 10 THE OLD DOCTOR TALKS. son's great invention, whereby he grinds granite mountains into fine dust, and separates all the iron ore, — the only valuable part, and sells it. My "machine" extracts and parades before my mind only the laughable or pleasant incidents of that painful period; and there is a lot of it; and, good -Lordy, — what a lot of worthless "sand." They say, tho', that Edison has found a market even for his sand; the iron sells itself. (Here the Old Doctor took out his knife and chipped a splinter from the edge of the desk, and shaping out a tooth pick, leaned back in my easy chair, and closing his eyes ruminated a little.) Sell the best part of my "siftings" ? Make mar ketable my recollections of the funny things that happened during the war? said he. Jokin', ain't you, Dan'els? Well, I'll ask my wife about it. There's a lot of "trash" on the literary market now, and they do say there's money in "junk." We would have to call it "Placer Mining for Jokes," eh, Dan'els ? But I tell you here and now, I can't talk to order, nor talk to a machine; so, if you want to get down any of my recollections you'll have to stenograph it without my knowledge; and if you sell it you've got to give me half ; you hear ? (It was then we put in the phonograph, as stated in the Introductory, and the Doctor does not know to this day that he has been "taken down" ; a pretty good joke itself.) 11 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. SUNSHINE SOLDIERING. "There's a fascination in the beginning of all things." WHAT crude conceptions of war we did have, to be sure! said the Old Doctor. (He had come into the ofiice in a reminis cent mood, it was evident; and taking his cus tomary seat began at once to talk of the past, all unconscious of the fact that even his gurgling laugh was being faithfully recorded. What a pity it cannot be reproduced on paper ! ) When we went into camp, out in an adjoining old field near our town, each company had its clean new tents, and every man a eot and comfortable things, and it was a picnic. It was real fun. Noth ing to do but drill a little, and have dress parade, — and the balance of the day lie in our tents, or under the shade of the big oaks and read. It was in the lovely month of May, a time when nature is at her best, and all things are lovely. Oh, the rec ollection of those days ! The ladies would come out from town to visit the boys and witness dress parade; and the cakes, and pies, and the roast tur keys, and the sweets of all kinds ! (No wonder diarrhoea soon broke out in camp.) The boys, — they were all "boys," however mature, were simply deluged with fiowers. The bouquets we did get, to be sure! And every feller had a sweetheart, of course. Such times! Oh, the glorious days of 12 SUNSHINE SOLDIERING. youth, when the blood is warm and quick, — and "the heart beats high at the glance of" Susan Maria's "eye," or words to that effect. We just ate and flirted and drilled and played soldier. It was too good to last; and bye and bye com panies began to be assembled at various rendezvous, and regiments to be formed, and we went to Cor inth. Now, as James Whitcomb Eiley says of "Jim," that he was just as good soldierin' as he was "no 'count farmin'," — Corinth was just as disagreeable as Jackson had been pleasant. We left all the girls behind, — and the pies, made by feller's mothers, — not your army pies of a subse quent date, of which I will tell you some day. We left the bouquets and the good victuals, and the smiles all behind us; tho' the soldier was smiled on all along the road, and everywhere, at first, by all the ladies, and there was an added charm to the soldier's life. All conventionalities were set aside; every soldier was petted, and he could talk to the girls without an. introduction. All social distinctions were brushed away, and every soldier, however humble, was a hero. The ladies would give him flowers, and praise him; tell him what a fine soldier he was, as they pinned them on for him. And, Dan'els, between me and you, that is one thing that made our boys so brave, and made them endure privations with such fortitude; the thought of what would be said of him at home> It is pride, pride of character that makes a soldier 13 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. brave. But for that, there are few who would "seek the bubble reputation at the cannon's mouth," I tell you ; for it ain't, any fun, you bet. To give you an idea of my conception of war, — notwithstanding I had read a great deal of history, of course, — I took along a sole-leather valise with me, full of broadcloth suits, patent leather shoes, linen shirts, fancy socks and ties. I had an idea (what a fool I was), that both armies would march out in an open place and meet by a kind of under standing, and after a few selections by the band, go to fighting; and at sunset, or sooner, the one that whipped would have some more music by the band, and then we'd retire. We were to be the ones that whipped, of course; — and then for the social part of it ; and there is where the good clothes were to come in, see? And, do you know, every feller in our company, — it was made up of college boys or young profes sional men, society men, — the "better class" so- called, — took along a trunk full of the same kind of clothes? The last I ever saw of my sole-leather valise and my good clothes, my long-tailed coat and my pretty socks and cravats and things, was at Man assas Junction. Came an order that all baggage was to be sent to the rear ; that every feller was to carry his outfit on his back, like a snail or turtle (except that we had knapsack and the turtle didn't). And one blanket, rolled lengthwise and swung around the neck was to be his bed. This, with the old 14 SUNSHINE SOLDIERING. Springfield rifie (with which we were first armed, weighing about fifteen pounds), a heavy leather cartridge box full of bullets, a tin canteen, a white cotton bag swung from the neck to hold your grub, constituted our outfit; and instead of fine clothes we were reduced to a coarse gray flannel shirt, blue cotton pants and a belt. That was our summer rig; pretty tough, wasn't it? At first we all had tents, — each tent a fly, which we stretched in front of the tent as a kind of front gallery, a tent to each eight boys. We had, each mess, a camp kettle of sheet iron, about the size of a small nail keg, and we had tin cups and tin plates and iron knives and forks and spoons. Our rations consisted of fresh beef, corn meal, rice, molasses, salt, and, at first, a little sugar. This was seldom varied (tho' we could buy milk, butter, eggs, poul try and anything else, — those who had money). And a little bacon at intervals was esteemed a great luxury. Camp life was still a picnic ; we did noth ing but drill a little, and laze. How distinctly I remember the sensations of early camp life just after our arrival at Manassas. We were amongst the first to arrive. Our white tents spread over a lovely green lawn, speckled with white clover-blos soms, a snow white village, surrounded by thickets of pine; the dark green contrasting so beautifully in the summer sun with the white tents, made a picture long to be remembered. Under the shade of the pines and cedars the boys 15 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. picked the wild strawberries and dewberries; and the cool, clear little stream, as yet undefiled by ag gregations of men, that within a stone's throw of us wended its way to the sea, was a source of keen enjoyment to the young fellows. Privileges were easily obtained from the officers, then; we were all "chums" at home, and discipline was as yet unknown. Such bathing in the little stream, and such trying to fish, — for there were no fish in it larger than a minnow. But, oh, Lordy! That didn't last long. When we started on the march, — all baggage sent to the rear, — tents ditto, or given to the staff officers, — cooking utensils followed next, till later, we had to carry all on our backs, — fry our meat on the end of a ram-rod, and make bread in silk handker chief, or in the company's towel. "Tut, tut. Doctor, what are you giving us?" Hudson said, while Bennett grinned. Fact, said the Old Doctor; you ask any of the boys who were soldiers in Old Virginia, and they will corroborate my statements. Ask Dan'els. On our first march I found my knapsack too heavy, and I went through it to lighten it. I took out my extra drawers, my extra undershirt, my extra socks (we wore a flannel top-shirt all the while; didn't need change), I couldn't throw any of them away ; my towel and soap ; couldn't spare them; my smoking tobacco, — couldn't flnd a blessed thing that I could throw away, except two sheets 16 DISINTERESTED SOLICITUDE. of letter paper and two envelopes, on which I had expected to write to my sweetheart ; fact ! AT MANASSAS. DISINTERESTED SOLICITUDE. "A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind." IN THE company was a fat young fellow about twenty-two, named Bright. He was real fat; about the size of Governor Hogg, — -and like all fat men, but me, — he was jolly. He was the life of the camp. The least exertion would make him blow like a porpoise. He wasn't flt for a soldier; had no business being there. He was a college boy, and a great Shakspearian quoter. We had also in the company an elderly gentleman, about fifty, — Mr. EusseU, — and his two grown sons. Mr. Eussell was a quiet, grave gentleman, and' the boys all looked up to him and showed him respect. He was a strong, healthy man, in the prime of life, — ^but the others, so much younger than he, screened, him whenever they could from exposure to night duty and labor as much as possible. I was first sergeant, and the captain had re quested me to practice the men in running, — i. e., in the double-quick movement. * 17 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. It was a lovely June morning, — getting pretty warm. The band out in the edge of the pine thicket was practicing a new piece ; the air was odorous of clover blossoms and sweet peas, and young grass rudely trodden by the feet of the mtn, as they were put through the company drill; and Kt the com mand "double quick, — march!" away we went, up one slope, down another, over the lovely green sward, — practicing how we could run (away from the yankees, had such a contingency ever suggested itself to any of us). Oh, it was a frolic. At the command "halt !" such a merry, ringing laugh went up from the young scamps, — who really enjoyed it. Mr. Eussell had taken a seat on a log, and was gen'tly fanning himself with his hat, — cool and collected, — when Bright wobbled up to me, swab bing his face with a red handkerchief, whose color his face discounted ten per cent., — and in dis jointed ejaculations as he could get his breath, said: "Sergeant, — I wouldn't — ^make — the — men dou ble-quick up hill ; it tires Mr. Eussell so bad !" At night, while "the pale inconstant moon rode majestically thro' the blue cloudless sky" (see G P. E. James' novels), we boys lying outside of the tent on the grass, gazing skyward, were thinking of the loved ones at home, — of our sweethearts, and of course many of the chaps were homesick. Billy Lewis, who was a nice, clean little law student, — 18 THE DOCTOR GETS DINNER. as much fit for a soldier as a canary bird is to make a chicken pie, — he had it bad. "Heigh-ho," he said, "I wish I was at home." "Heigh-ho," said Bright, just as solemnly, "I wish I had some butter milk." And as the "Liztown Humorist" says, "You'd oughter heard 'em yell." THE DOCTOR GETS DINNER. BEPOEE we struck camp and went to march ing, said the Old Doctor ;— bef ore they took our tents away, and our camp-kettles, we fared nicely. Nearly every mess in our com pany had a negro servant, belonging to some one of the boys; and thus our cooking was done as it should have been done, — considering. Our cook belonged to Gwyn Yerger, as fine a young fellow as you ever saw, and as gallant as Custer, whom, by- the-bye, he strikingly resembled; tall, straight; a blue-eyed blonde;— of course he was very popular with the ladies; tell you a good one on him some day. Well, — Gus, — that's the negro cook, — got sick, and we fellers had to take it turn-about cooking. I was a little pale-faced, beardless, dandified med io RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. ical student, and knew about as much about cook ing as a cat ; but it came my turn. I never let on, but went and got the rations for the mess from the commissary, and put it all on to cook for one meal. I was a little jubous about the rice. I had seen a roast on the table at home as large as our piece of beef, and I thought I was doing the right thing to cook it all at once, so as to have it cold for lunch eon, as I had seen done at home. But the rice; there was about two gallons of it, I suppose; — so I said to George Newton, one of my mess-mates : "George, how much rice ought we to cook for dinner ?" "Oh, I don't know," said George ; "about a peck, I reckon." Thus assured, I was confident that our water bucket half-full would be none too much; — so I put her in, — and "George," said I; "how much water ought I to add to the rice ?" George was trying to go to sleep ; he had just come off of guard. "Oh, I don't know," said George, "fill the kettle, I 'reckon." He turned over to get a fresh hold on his nap. So, I filled the four-gallon camp kettle about half-full of rice, and poured in water up to the brim, and set it on a roaring fire. Presently it began to boil, and, oh, horrors ! to slop over. That would never do ; we had none to spare, and couldn't afford to waste it. 20 THE DOCTOR GETS DINNER. "George," I called out again, "this dawgawnd rice has swelled; its boiling over ; what shall I do ?" "Oh, don't bother me so, Dick. Scoop her out and put it into the vessels we eat out of," said George; and he went back to sleep. I filled the coffee pot; I filled all the tin cups, and tin plates and pans, and it kept boiling over. Every time I would dish' out about a gallon, it would fill up, and in a minit begin to run over. I was in dispair. "George, — do for the Lord's sake get up and come and help me. (I'll relieve you from guard- duty if you will)" said I, in a low tone, for I dasn't let any one hear me ; I was the boss sergeant, dont forget, and made the details for work, guard, etc. So George came, hitching up his gallusses with one hand, and rubbing his eyes with the other. He had a keen sense of the ridiculous, and he took in the situation at a glance. Every tin thing was full of half-done, seething rice; and still she swelled and swelled and slopped over. My ! it looked like there was rice enough for the regiment. George looked around for something to help hold the surplus, and a twinkle came in his eye, as he spied Bright, asleep on his baek, and snoring like a trooper. His big horse-leather boots stood at the head of his cot, and as quick as thought, George got them and said: "Here, — put it in this; it will get cool before 21 , RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. Bright wakes up, and it will be a good joke on him !" I was as full of fun and deviltry as George; so, no sooner said than done. We filled both boots to the ankle, and set them back; and still the con founded cataract of boiling rice was roaring. Just then the captain called : "Bright ! Oh, Bright ! come quick, here's a lady wants to see you !" ("The ladies" was Bright's great weakness. Fat as he was, he was as vain as Beau Brummel, and set up for a Lothario.) Bright sat up, rubbing his eyes ; and as quick as he could, seized one boot, and socked his foot into the scalding rice ; when, ge-whiz ! what a howl went up, of mingled pain, wrath and surprise ! He made the atmosphere thick with a most florid rhetoric; and with his scalded foot still smoking, and redo lent of rice, lit out after me and George with a six- shooter in each hand. Fact. He'd have killed us, but we took refuge in the captain's tent, and slid out the back way, and each one sheltered himself, behind a big oak tree. Well, Bright sat down on a rock near by, and with cocked pistol ready, swore that he'd kill the first one of us who put his head out. He kept us there till roll call, and would have had us there yet, if he had not been called to go on regimental guard. He got even with us later ; tell you about it some time, maybe. 22 HOW THE BIG DOG WENT. HOW THE BIG DOG WENT. IN MY company was a big, strong jolly fellow named Bill Hicks. He was a great story teller, and was always welcome at any of the camp- fires or mess tables. I'm speaking still of the times, you remember, at Manassas, before the tug of war came; when we actually had candles, as well as tents and cots and other comforts. It was a com mon thing for Bill to get a lot of the boys around him, and tell them yarns. One night he told us of a dog fight he had witnessed, and he depicted it with the greatest reality, imitating the big dog how he "went," and the little dog how he "went" ; and he had gotten the boys very much interested. "The big dog would jump at the little dog, and go 'gh-r-r-rh,' " Bill said, imitating a hoarse growl. "And the little dog, he'd jump at the big dog, and catch him by the leg, and go 'br-e-w-r-r-rer,' " said Bill, imitating a shrill bark and growl. He had gone over this two or three times, illus trating it with his whole body, and had gotten to the point where the laugh comes in. The boys en joyed it immensely. Just at that point, in stalked Tump Dixon, a burly bully from an adjoining camp; a rough, dis agreeable fellow, drunk or drinking whenever he could get whiskey, and half of his time in the guard house. 2.3 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. "What's that you are telling, Bill ?" said Tump. "Oh, nothing," said Bill; "nothing worth hear ing." "Tell it over ; I want to hear it ; I heard a part of it." "Oh, go 'way. Tump Dixon, I aint agoin' to make a fool of myself just to please you," said Bill, looking rather sheepish. "You aintf said Tump. "No, I aint," said Bill, doggedly. Tump poked his head out towards Bill, and looked him steadily in the eyes; meantime slowly reaching behind him, he drew out and cocked a big six-shooter, and pointing it at Bill's head said : "How-did-that-big-dog-go ?" "Gh-r-r-rr-h," said Bill, gruffly, imitating a hoarse growl as before. "How-did-that-little-dog-go ?" said Tump. "Bre-w-er-rrh," said Bill, imitating a shrill bark. "How-did-that-big-dog-go?" said Tump. "He went 'g-h-r-r-rrh,' " said Bill, the boys just yelling with laughter. "How-did-that-little-dog-go?" said Tump, pistol still in Bill's face, dangerously near, in the hands of a half drunk rowdy. "He went 'b-r-e-w-r-rh,' " said poor Bill, still feebly imitating the actions of the dog. "How-did-that-big-dog-go?" said Tump. "He went 'g-h-rr-rh,'" said Bill, bursting into 24 HOW THE BIG DOG WENT. angry tears, and saying what he'd do if Tump Dixon would put up that pistol. Tump had the drop on him, else there would have been a fight, for Bill was brave, while Tump was a coward, and he knew it wouldn't be safe. Tump left presently, and any time after that, if one wanted to get a fight on his hands he had only to ask Bill "how the big dog went ?" ¦P *l* "f" ^ Bill was sleeping one day under a big tree, — he had been on guard all night, and he slept the sleep of the just. George Newton and a lot of the other young scamps tied up his jaws, crossed his hands on his breast, — "laid him out"; and getting the prayer book, George was delivering the burial ser vice over him with variations, — when Bill was called to report at the captain's tent. Whoopee ! If he didn't larrup ¦ me and George Newton and Thad Miller, the smallest of us, and all he could catch ! Well, that's one of the disagreeable, unpleasant things which I told you my Eetroscope rounded off so nicely or obliterated ; but, my stars ! I aint done aching yet when I think of the pounding Bill gave me for playing he was dead. Poor fellow, he's dead to stay, though, now; long since. Peace to his ashes. 25 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. BILL AND THE BUMBLE BEES' NEST. ON THE march to Leesburg that lovely early autumn day, — oh, how vividly the scenes at Goose Creek and the crossing of Bull Eun, at McLean's Ford appear still. There is where Stonewall Jackson was dubbed "Stonewall." I witnessed the charge and the repulse at McLean's Ford, of Bee and Bartow, and the arrival on the cars of Johnston's reinforcements from Winchester just in time to save the day. But I'm not going to bore anybody with that. We moved up to Leesburg, our brigade, in August or September, 1861. I know blackberries were still plentiful. On the road Bill and I straggled, — ^that is, fell out of ranks, and followed along slowly at our leisure. You must remember that we were all from the same section, all friends and acquaintances, and were "hail-fellow" with the officers ; there was no such thing as discipline, then. Bill and I picked blackberries leisurely along the road side, when, looking back, we saw three mounted field officers coming, — strangers to us; they were brigade officers. Two of them had Gen eral B under arrest. Bill and I thought we had better not let them see us, — so we dodged off the road into a deep wood, and hid behind a log. To our horror, one of them apparently followed us, and the other two rode rapidly after him, and I 26 BILL AND THE BUMBLE BEES' NEST. heard one of them say, "General, what does this mean? You are under arrest; come with us." Now, I never did know what that meant. But Bill and I thought they were after us, so we ran again, and Bill threw himself down behind a great big old sycamore log, and, by Jo, right plump into a bumble bee's nest! He ran again, — you bet he did ! and such a sight I never saw. Bill running like a scared deer, and fighting those bumble-bees off with both hands, — and every now and then, as one would get in his work, to hear Bill yell was just too funny for anything in this world, unless it be for a Wild-west show. Bye-and-bye when the excitement was over, we resumed our march, leisurely. Our regiment had halted in an old field about a mile from Leesburg, stacked arms, and the men were unloading the wagons, throwing out the tents and things. Every wagon we would pass the men stopped work, and straightening up, would gaze at us like we were strangers. I said: "Bill" (I noticed that he kept a little behind me), "'what does this mean?" "Dont know," said Bill. But it got worse and worse. A crowd began to gather towards us, gazing at me, like I was a yaii- kee. I looked around at Bill for an explanation, — and I found it. Bill was marching me into camp at the point of a bayonet, confound him ! 27 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. THE DOCTOR TAKES SUPPER WITH ONE OF THE F. F. V'S. THEEE was but one good coat in our com pany, said the Old Doctor on this occasion, and that belonged to Dick Ledbetter. Poor fellow, — he's dead, too; the bravest boy and the luckiest. He participated actively as a private, with a gun, in seventeen of the big pitched battles in which Longstreet's famous division was engaged in Virginia and elsewhere, and in hundreds of skir mishes, aud never received a scratch, nor lost a day from duty. He survived the war, and return ing to Jackson, our old home, his and mine, mar ried, and prospered in business. He died there in the spring of 1897. Speaking of Dick, reminds me to tell you of the time when our regiment was making a charge on the yankees during the battle of Bull Eun (July 18, 1861), Dick and I were side by side. We had n big ditch or gully to cross, and in doing so, Dick exclaimed : "Gee ! Dick ! look at the dewberries !" and throwing down our guns we went to picking and eating the delicious berries, and — got left. But about Dick's coat, and the tea-party. The coat was a pretty, bluish-gray frock coat, with pretty brass buttons on it. It was the most accom- 28 SUPPER WITH ONE OF THE F. F. VS. modating garment that ever was made, I do reckon. It would fit all of us, every man in the company. One night our captain was invited to take supper at the residence of one of Leesburg's foremost citizens, a Mr. Hempstead. He was requested to bring with him two of his young friends, and he invited Gwyn Yerger and me. Yerger was the handsomest young fellow in the company. I shan't say anything about myself, on that score, but as Mr. H. had three pretty daughters, it is reasonable to suppose the captain, who was very vain, thought to please the girls in the selection; hence (ahem!) Yerger was a blonde, and a great lady's man. He had borrowed Ledbetter's pretty coat, and Lieu tenant Session's shoulder straps, — ^the bars that a lieutenant wears on his collar, rather, and rigged himself out for conquest, as "Lieutenant" Yerger. That evening it was "Lieutenant" this, and "Lieu tenant" that. Already so early in the war a prefer ence was shown by the fair sex for officers. With the three handsome daughters we wefe lions. It was a picnic. They had an elegant sup per, such as peace times knew; something we had not seen nor tasted for many weary months ; straw berries, broiled chickens, hot rolls, cream, coffee, butter, preserves, cakes, umph ! but it was a feast. The girls were charming. Old Bontaine, the cap tain, tried to monopolize the conversation with the girls, all three of them. But Yerger and I were something of drawing room adepts, ourselves. We 29 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. used at home to "court the amorous looking glass," and were not inproficient at "capering nimbly in my lady's chamber." See Eichard III. The conversation was general, at first, and amongst other things it turned naturally on hospi tality, and Virginia's fame for hospitality; the symbols of hospitality with different peoples and nations, etc. You bet I lost no time in letting them know that I was one of the P. P. V's myself. But poor Yerger put his foot into it, if he did have on the best coat, and was playing he was an officer. He spoke of his State, Mississippi, and the hospi tality of her people, when presently one of the young ladies said : "Lieutenant Yerger, what is regarded as the symbol of hospitality in your old home, — Missis sippi ?" "Well," said Yerger, '"I hardly know; but amongst men, usually about the first thing set out when a neighbor calls, is whiskey, I believe; eh. Captain ?" Before the captain could reply, as quick as a wink (the lady of the house, the mother, had just glanced at the pretty yellow maid who was waiting on the table), there was a decanter of whiskey sit ting by Yerger's plate. Poor Yerger ! he looked as if he wished the earth would open and swallow him up, Ledbetter's coat and all. He never used liquor in any way in his life, that I know of. 30 SUPPER WITH ONE OF THE F. F. VS. Of course the ladies were invited to visit our camp, — papa, too, especially, to witness dress pa rade. They came sooner than we expected. Next evening, just as luck would have it, Gus was sick again, — that's the cook, — and it was Yer ger's time to get supper. He had built the fire, and made every preparation to get supper, and was sweating and fussing over the fire, — face begrimed with smoke, — he in his shirt sleeves and hair all towseled. The regiment was on dress parade at that moment, and Yerger was mad, anyhow. Just at that juncture, up came a cavalcade of ladies on horseback, foremost amongst whom were the Misses Hempstead. They rode up to the fire where Yer ger was, and asked for "Lieutenant" Yerger. Well, he was covered with confusion, as well as with sweat and soot ; but being ready-witted, everything passed off nicely ; but you bet Yerger didn't invite them to stay to supper. :{: 4: ^ ^ While telling my recollections of my short ser vice in the ranks in Virginia, ahd of the boys' first lessons in cooking, — for you must know that by- and-bye they had to cook or go hungry ; the ,negro cook business soon played out, I'll tell you another one on Bill ; that same Bill Hicks I was telling you about. One day, or one night, rather, we had gone into camp for the night (I mean our regiment), and Bill was trying to cook some rations for next day's RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. march. He mixed his corn meal and water all right nicely in the company towel, and put in a little grease and salt, and turned out a real nice "pone," ready to cook. He first thought he'd make an ash cake of it, — roast it in the ashes, you know ; but luckily, finding a clean flat rock near by, he put that on the embers, and when it got hot he spread out his pone on it, and sat down to watch it. By-and-bye Bill thought it wasn't browning fast enoughj so he thought to accelerate it by turn ing it over and giving the other side a chance. In attempting to do so, the plagued thing crumbled and fell to pieces. Bill just made the woods ring with remarks much louder and more emphatic than elegant, or than the occasion called for; so George Newton thought; George was a terrible wag. He said: "Oh, Bill, dont take it so hard. The Savior once broke bread, you remember !" Bill looked at him for about a minit, a dark look, and then in a tone of contempt, said : "The hell he did! He didn't drop it in the ashes, did he?" 4: 4: 4: SN Alas, poor Bill ! He was a flne young man, an Apollo in form, and a model of strong physical manhood. Had he lived he would surely have had a career of usefulness. But like thousands of others of the fiower of the youth of the South, he was needlessly sacriflced to what the South believed to 32 THB DOCTOR ROUTES THE FEDERAL ARMY. be a principle; rights guaranteed the South under the Constitution, violated, .and no other recourse for redress, they thought. Bill lost a leg in battle, and after the war, although he began the practice of law with flattering prospects, the loss of his leg so preyed on his mind, the thought of going through life such a cripple, in a fit of despondency he blew out his brains. j» j» j» Iff «¦ THE DOCTOR ROUTES THE FEDERAL ARMY. SITTING by the fire at home one day lately, said, the Old Doctor, our Pat Philosopher (by which cognomen we had just saluted him on his entering our sanctum), mentally figuring to see how I was going to make that $5, which Bill Jeffries promised to pay me next Saturday week, pay my subscription to the Texas Medical Journal, buy a pair of red-top boots for Johnny, and get my wife that pattern of calico she saw in Simon's window for Christmas, and still have some left for tobacco, when my wife, — who was mending my other shirt, — looked up and said : "Doctor, do you reckon Dr. Daniel ever heard of 33 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. that ten dollar fee you got last year for a surgical operation ?" "Why, no," said I. "What put that in your head?" "Why, I dont know why else he would call you the 'f at-f ee-losopher,' " she said. "That's the on.ly fat fee you ever made, aint it, honey?" And the old fellow just shook with suppressed merriment at the recollection. * * * * Promised to tell you about our captain, did I? Oh, yes ; so I did. The old man was a scholar. Many people here ia Texas remember him well. He was a naturalist. He was also an Episcopal minister. But I must say, he had less common sense than any man I ever saw, and was as ugly as the devil ! He was a man of the most inordinate vanity, moreover; — vain of his personal appearance! His face looked like a gorilla's; high retreating forehead, — narrow, but high; large superciliary ridges, high cheek bones, — a real prognathous skull; eyes deep-set and cav ernous ; little tw;inkling, restless eyes, and a mouth like a cat fish. He wore his hair in little tight corkscrew curls, and when he spoke there was a kind of whistling sound followed. To see him rigged out in his full fighting paraphernalia was a sight to make Ajax green with envy, and Achilles and Hector go off and grieve. But, — ^well, he got to be the captain of our company in some way, — 34 THE DOCTOR ROUTES THE FEDERAL ARMY. after Captain Burt, for whom the company was named, was made colonel of the regiment. At Manassas, — ^up to the time when our tents were taken from us, he used to have prayer meeting at his tent every night, and the spoony and home sick boys all attended with a religious regularity that was most commendable. He suddenly discon tinued it ; and when asked why, he said that he had been fighting the devil all his life, and now that he had the yankees to fight in addition, — doubling teams on him as it were, he couldn't do justice to both. He was brave. I dont think he knew what personal fear was. The battle of Manassas was fought on a lovely summer day (July 21, '61), beginning about sun rise. Our regiment was not engaged until late in the afternoon. Somebody blundered. I'm glad of it; I might have been killed, and, see what the world would have lost if I had ! As it was, I got to see it all, from a safe distance; an experience that few can boast of. Early in the morning we were marched ahead of , and at right angles with the line of battle, for about a mile ; and there on top of a high hill, overlooking the entire battlefleld, we were halted, and there remained inactive 'till about five o'clock. It was the intention, we learned afterwards, that we should charge by the flank, — swing around, you know, and shut in, like a knife blade. The idea was to get in behind the enemy, and some think 35 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. that had this been done late in the afternoon, as was intended, when the rout came, we would have bagged the whole shooting match. It seems that the courier carrying the order was killed, and the other regiments which, with ours, were to do this swinging-around-act, didn't come up ; so we waited in vain nearly ail day for them, as stated. In the meantime, resting here on that hill, we had a most excellent view of the battle, almost from beginning to end, participating only slightly, as I will tell you, in the final charge, about sundown. I wish I could describe the scene to you. We looked west from where we were; that is, up the run or creek ; Bull Eun. We could see almost every movement ; see the charges which have become his torical, as I told you on a former visit, I believe. We saw every cannon discharge; saw the curl of smoke before we heard the report ; we saw the train arrive from Winchester bringing Generals. Joseph E. Johnston and Kirby Smith with reinforce ments; saw them disembark, — form column and forward on the run; saw them halted and thrown into line; saw them charge, and turn the tide ot battle. Oh, it was a most glorious sight, — from a distance. The battle raged nearly all day. Byme-by the order came to forward, — our regi ment that had been lying there all day just looking on, and skinnin' slippery elm trees of the bark and chewing it, — the boys were very fond of slippery elm bark, — and th§y skinned every tree on that hill. 36 THE DOCTOR ROUTES THE FEDERAL ARMY. We were told to throw away our blankets, or, rather, to leave them there, and we could get them after we had run the yankees off. So, late in the afternoon, the sun was setting, and shone in our faces by that time, we went for ward on a brisk trot till, all of a sudden, we were on the brink of a precipice, steep, deep, rocky and with almost perpendicular sides. And, there we were; could get no further. The ravine (it was the bed of Cub Eun, a tributary to Bull Eun, — when it rained; it was dry now), was fifty yards or more wide, and on the opposite bank stood the yankees, infantry, regulars, concealing a terrible battery. It looked like there were a thousand of them in line. It seemed to me that their coat tails were all of exactly the same length, from the glimpse I had of them ; for we stood not there long idle. They saw us, and just poured grape and c-ra- ister into us from that battery, while this line of infantry just mowed us down like grass. There was but one thing to do ; that was to run. You bet we ran. And as we scattered, the shots just whistled after us "through the emerald woods where the breezes were sighing." About that time, — panic having seized the enemy at the other end, where, it seems, our men had charged them with the bayonet, and spread to the line in front of us, bless your soul, unexpectedly to us, and without the least cause that we knew, they just limbered up their cannon, about-faced, and 37 RECOLLECTIONS OP A REBEL SURGEON. got. That is a fact. They had nothing to fear from us, our regiment, for, as stated, we couldn't get near them. But do you know, or rather, would you believe it, — when I was discharged later, of which I have told you, haven't I? and went home, the old cap tain gave me a letter, — I have it yet ; I prize it as a curiosity, and am keeping it as an heirloom, — in which he testified that I "had always been a good soldier; had always done my full duty," and that he would "never forget the day, nor my gallantry, when I helped him strike the last blow to the enemy's reserves, when they fied, — panic-stricken from the field" ; thus "helping him save the honor of the Confederacy." Pact, — a positive fact, — verbatim. I have that letter yet. When I got home I showed it to my mother. I asked her to feel of me. I asked her if there were any birthmarks on me by which my identity could be positively established ? I said that it was not I ; impossible. It must surely be the spirit of Napo leon Bonaparte, Julius Csesar and Wellington all rolled into one and personated by me on the occa sion referred to; I didn't knowT was sueh a war rior. Now, the fact is, — I ran. But he didn't. He just stood there like a fool, popping away at those U. S. regulars, fifty yards off or more, with a little 22-calibre Smith & Wesson pistol, and they just pouring grape and canister shot at him and at us 38 THE DOCTOR ROUTES THE FEDERAL ARMY. at random, — ^till the big scare struck them. It's a fact; the enemy fled, when no one, from our crowd, at least, pursued them. The old captain did then rally a few of our scat tered company, and attaching them to the tail end of another command, marched us offi the field to where we had left our blankets, fortunately. A great many of our company were killed. ip tf. Sfi ij^ After the regiment moved up to Leesburg after the battle of Manassas (first Manassas), I pro cured a discharge. I had ascertained that flghting as a private was not my specialty, and didn't fit in at all with either my talent or my taste. Mr. Davis had issued a proclamation stating that the war would last some years, and officers would be needed ; that it was like "grinding seed corn" to kill up the students (in which sentiment I fully concurred), and offered to release from the ranks all who were studying medicine. I returned home and immedi- ¦ ately went to New Orleans and took another course of lectures, and got my diploma and got out, just before Ben Butler captured the city. In less than six months more, towit: July 8th, 1863, I was exam ined by the Army Board of Medical Examiners for Bragg's army at Tupelo, Miss., and greatly to my surprise, I was given a commission by the Secretary of War as surgeon, upon the report and request of this board. I was just ten days less than twenty-three years of age. I was at once assigned 39 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. to duty with the examining board as secretary, at the request of the president of the board, the late Dr. David W. Yandell. •If «r •ur «f «f fX' j» jm jm j» ¦» INVADING KENTUCKY. A VIOLENT ERUPTION OF "LORENA." THE DOCTOE walked into the office one morning, looking very sober, and gently whistling "Lorena." Taking his accus tomed seat, my easy chair, he said : Dan'els, did you ever notice how any tune, once familiar, will bring back recollections of the time you heard it ? Memories long dormant ? How cer tain thoughts and recollections are associated in some way with certain airs? Yes, and even with the odor of certain flowers. "Oh, yes," said I, "often." Well, "Lorena" is associated in my mind with more pleasant memories of war times than any other song ; for it had its birth, — lived its little life, and perished, — was sung to death during those stir ring times. It is essentially a war song; and in my mind is associated, peculiarly, with Bragg's celebrated Kentucky campaign : 40 "The sun's low down the sky, Lorena, — The snow is on the grass again; Er-rer-something-or-other-Lorena,The frost gleams where the flowers have been," sang the Old Doctor; low to himself, with an ex pression on his face of mingled gravity and humor. I was thinking of the time, said he, speaking of Lorena, — ^when the snow was on me about a foot deep, before we got out of Kentucky, — those of us who did get back ; for there was many a poor fellow who went with us, gaily singing "Lorena" all along the road who — staid there, — alas; most of them at Perryville and Munf ords ville. On the march going in, — -it was glorious weather in the early fall, when the leaves in the forest were putting on their earliest fall tints ; when the grapes with their purple lusciousness hung temptingly near the roadside ; when the apples, red-ripe, were dropping of their own plethora of sweetness ; on the march "Lorena" was sung morning, noon and night. The forests rang with it. "Every lily in the dell knows the story, — knows it well"; — ^ought to, at least ; lily, leaf and bird, — forest, stream and valley, heard it often enough, the Lord knows, and loud enough, to remember it forever. 41 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. CROSSING THE CUMBERLAND. IT BEINGS to my mind especially, and in vivid pictures, continued the Old Doctor, after refreshing himself with a cigarette, the scene at Mussel Shoals where the army crossed the Cum berland one lovely October morning at sunrise. I shall never forget it. The soldiers were in flne spirits ; it was a frolic for the youngsters. I can see, now, gathered on the near bank, gen erals and staff officers in brilliant uniforms, direct ing the work of putting over the wagons and the artillery ; wagons with snow white covers gleaming in the clear morning light, each wagon drawn by six stout mules; see the ambulances, — now the ar tillery, with mounted drivers in gay colors, — the guns and caissons, descending cautiously the grade to the water; see those already over, slowly pulling up the opposite bank, — the forest-covered hills not yet lighted up for the day, giving a glorious dark background to the brilliant picture ; see the horse men, interspersed here and there amongst the wagons and the caissons and the cannons, their riders rattling ¦with carbine and spur; see those amid-stream, wagons, horses, guns. I hear the striking of the hoof against the boulders as a horse impatiently paws the water, drinking leisurely and little at a time, or as I suspect, making believe he was drinking, by burying his nose in the water as 42 CROSSING THE CUMBERLAND. a pretext to lave his tired legs in the delicious limpid coolness of the water. I see again the shal low but broad stream, clear as ice, slowly crawling along, fretted here by a rock, checked and diverted there by the bank, but still on, on, as in ages past it has been going, as it is now; ever changing its particles, yet ever the same river ; on, on, to finally mingle with the great gulf. The birds in the for est, "winged songsters," chirping their early matins, looking on with curious eye at the unac- , customed scene, all unconscious of the deadly na ture of our mission. As an accompaniment to the drama, — a lovely scene of action set to music, — rang out, clear and strong on the morning air : "A hundred months have passed, Lorena, Since last I held thy hand in mine." Lorena palled after awhile, and I felt somewhat by "Lorena" as I suppose Nanki Poo in Mikado did about Yum Yum : "Well, take Yum Yum, and go to the devil with Yum Yum," said he. And so I said about "Lorena." How like life was that stream. Every particle of the water changing every minute at a given point, passing on, its place taken by new ones, — and, yet, — it is the same river. Now, here am I, — old, gray and grizzled. There is not a particle of bone, blood, muscle nor sinew ; not a cell in my body that was there that bright morning thirty-five years ago, when throbbing with 43 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. the pulse of youth, fired by hope and ambition probably, I gazed upon that scene of life, pulsing like a locomotive impatient to be going. And yet, it is the same, — ^the identical ego; and like that stream, I am still going on, on, checked here, fretted there; turned out of my course yonder; buffeted about by "circumstances over which I have no control," here, there, anywhere ; but still, on, on, I go, with the years, to mingle finally with the great gulf, — eternity. And then? iJ^ e5:-V.^?^i «X ?"vr tending to the wounded at Harrodsburg after the battle of Perryville, said the Old Doctor, resuming his account of the occurrences in Kentucky, about daylight I mounted my horse and lit out to overtake General Hardee and his party. I had not had anything to eat in nearly forty-eight hours, and was nearly starved. I rode rapidly. It was a cold, clear morning, late in October, and on the beautiful macadamized road my swift single- foot racker fairly fiew. I had gone perhaps six miles before it occurred to me that I might be on the wrong road, — going the wrong way. Presently I met a man in a cart, and I asked: "Is this the road to Camp Dick Eobinson?" (I knew that was the general's objective point.) "My ! — No !" said the man. "You are on the Versailles road, and going right t'wards the yan kees; they are coming this way." Here was a predicament. All those six miles to retrace, and the danger of being captured, — ^per haps shot for a spy, — ^being alone, and away from my command. But I turned back and went fiying, I tell you. A little after sun-up I came in sight of the gen- 87 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. eral's party, — ^just breaking camp and about to be off. They had bivouaced inside of a farmer's stable lot where there was plenty of oats, cawn and fod der ; something my horse needed mighty bad. The general and his staff and escort had mounted and were off, before I had dismounted. Dave, the black cook, had saved me a mutton chop and some bread, and the coffee pot was still on the fire. He was busy packing the camp chest and loadin' the camp things into the wagon. I put my horse in the stable, after giving him his fill at the trough, and shaking down some oats and cawn for him, I prepared to take a nap on a pile of straw while he was feedin'. I had devoured my breakfast meantime. Before I had gotten a good hold on my nap, "bang," "bang" and keep-on "bang"-ing, went the guns close by, and bullets whistled through the barn like hail. It was our rear guard. Gen. Jo Wheeler, keeping back the enemy's advance, which was crowdin' us. General Hardee had a closer call than he knew, being already detached from his command and goin' it alone. My horse, feeding at the trough, was frightened, and jumped around considerable. I hastily put on the saddle, and in doing so, I dropped this ring from my hand, said the Old Doc tor, here removing from his finger a large, well- worn onyx seal ring, which he said his father gave him on his sixteenth birthday, and which he prized very highly. My hands were cold, and the ring, always a little THE BUSHWHACKERS AFTER THE DOCTOR. too big for me, slipped off and fell in the straw. I was terribly distressed at the thought of leaving it, yet the bullets kept warning me that it was about time I was thinkin' of gittin' further. It was dark in the stable, and just as I had dispaired, and was about to mount, a movement of my horse threw a gleam of light on the ring. I grabbed it, with a handful of the straw, and at a single leap was in the saddle and out of that like an arrow. My horse seemed to be as much impressed with the necessity of getting away as I did. A volley from the enemy followed us, — they were now in sight, and our men driven back, were in the stable yard. We fairly flew. A mile away the road ran along at the base of a low range of mountains for several miles. As I went flying along, — ring still clasped in my hand, — hadn't had time to put it on, — "biz," went a rifle, from somewhere on the side of the mountain, and the bullet cut my cap. "Bing" went another rifie, further down, ahead of me; and glancing up I saw the little ring of smoke made by the old- fashioned Kentucky rifie, the old muzzle loader, with which I was so familiar in my boy days as a squirrel hunter, — the most accurate firing rifle of them all. I realized that I was now running the gauntlet of bushwhackers; stay-at-homes, — ^Union men, — guerillas, as they were variously designated. I just laid flat down on my horse's neck, making myself RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. as small as possible, wishing I could make it in visible, — and giving him rein, — no need of spur, — he was as much impressed with the "gravity of the situation" as was yours truly, — we went like an arrow. I have no idea how many cracks they took at me, but it seemed like several hundred thousand. It was "whiz," as a bullet would go by me ; "twang," as another would ring just over my head; "bang," "pop," "biz," for several miles. Presently I came in sight of some of our party, — an officer of the staff and some teamsters. As I rode up, — they were dismounted at a little roadside "store," or "grocery," — one said: "Here comes the Surgeon, now." I rode up, dismounted, and put on my ring. One said: "Doctor, Bogle is shot." Bogle was the wagon master of our headquarters. .. He had gone into a fleld near by, with two of the men and a wagon, by orders of the captain of the cavalry escort, to get some cawn. They were en gaged in gathering and loading the wagon with cawn, and while so engaged Bogle was shot thro' the fleshy part of the shoulder with a minnie ball ; while the horse of one of the men was shot thro' the head and killed. The horse was killed by the bullet from a Kentuclcy rifle, small bore; and the third shot took effect in the horn of the saddle of the other man. It was evident that three persons had fired, and that each of the party was a target. 90 THE BUSHWHACKERS AFTER THB DOCTOR. The eaptain took a squad of men and went up on the mountain side where the shots came from, and in a little cabin they found an old, gray-bearded man, and two strapping mountain boys, of some eighteen or twenty. They were bushwhackers, and were, by the rules of war, outlawed. The men found, secreted in the cabin, a minnie rifle and two small-bore Kentucky rifles, the calibres of all of which corresponded with the bullet holes in Bogle's shoulder and in the horse's head, and in the saddle, and air three rifles were still warm, showing that they had just been discharged. That was proof enough. Without judge or jury, or the form of a trial or investigation, the old man and the two boys were taken out — somewhere, — I didn't go; I was busy dressing Bogle's wound. But one of the men told me that the old man never said a word, but manifested the stoicism of an In dian. 91 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. A FROG STORY. SAID the Old Doctor on this occasion, seating himself with his usual make-yourself-at- home air : While the army was around about Tupelo, Miss., after the battle of Shiloh, and General Hardee's headquarters were at Tupelo, one afternoon in August, after the day's work of the board of med ical examiners was over, I remember that Drs. Yandell, Pim, Heustis, the members of the board, and myself (I was secretary, you remember I told you), were sitting in camp talking and smoking. There were other officers of the staff present, also, as all of the officers' quarters were near together in a nice grove ; and some one of the party, I have for gotten whom, but I think it was Major Kirkland, one of the engineer officers, stated it as a fact that a toad would swallow coals of fire, and that it would not hurt him. He could not explain it, he said, as it would hardly do to say that the toad "thought the coal was a "lightning bug," or that he "thought" at all. But whatever be the reason, it was a fact, he said. The party laughed at him, and said that his credulity was of a robust and full-grown sort ; that he was easily imposed upon, and the statement was scoffed at and ridiculed. Dr. Yandell said : "Come, Kirkland, what do you take us for? 92 A FROG STORY. That's an old woman's tale that I have heard all my life, but it is not to be supposed that anybody would believe it." I didn't say anything. I was too young, and too green, and altogether too inexperienced to take ;i position on so momentous a question in natural history. I had read, however, a good deal about toads, and frogs, and other reptiles, in works on physiology, and amongst other things I had read, somewhere, that away back yonder in the early days of Egyptian civilization, the tenacity with which .'i toad clings to life had been observed and recorded ; that they had been known to be found walled up in solid masonry, I dont know how many centuries old; and I remember an instance being cited of fi toad having been found in the reign of Eam-Bunk- Shus III, or Eam Shaklin, or some of those old Egyptian rams, that had been buried a thousand years. But I kept mum. The major was a little ruffled at the merciless way the party guyed him; so, he offered to prove it. That made matters worse. They laughed more than ever, and that made the major mad. Luckily for him and for science, and for the truth of this story — "Come, now. Doctor; you are not going to tell us that yarn for straight, I hope," said Dr. Hud son, Junior Editor of the Journal. "What do you take us for?" 93 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. "Aint I, though?" said the Old Doctor. "It's gospel straight, laugh if you will." As I was saying, it being summer time, and toads were plentiful in that country, and it being about sunset, presently the major spied a large warty toad hopping about as if he were out for a lark; a, comfortable looking old fellow, — and sending Henry, the colored boy, for some coals, we prepared for a circus, — a demonstration, — a failure (of course), a fight or a foot race. There was great interest manifested. A crowd assembled. The major, now thoroughly on his mettle, kept saying, "I'll show you." He went cautiously towards the toad, and with thumb and finger, thumped a live coal right plump in the frog's path, — right before his face. Well, sirs, — that old toad stopped, straightened up, — turned his head on one side, and took a square look at the coal. It must have been just what he was looking for, as he seemed pleased to meet it. His eyes shone with a new light, and he made a grab at the coal, and swallowed it with apparent relish. Fact. His eyes sparkled still more, and beyond doubt, he registered the mental refiection that that certainly was the much talked of "hot stuff." He set out to look for more, I suppose ; but we were not done with him yet. Dr. Yandell said that the major "had taken an unfair advantage of the toad ; that he was evidently getting old, from his looks, — and his eye sight was 94 A FROG STORY. not good ; that ''the shades of eve were falling fast," etc., and that he would bet the toad wouldn't eat another. The major repeated the trick with suc cess, several times, till every one was satisfied that the toad had not swallowed the fire under a delu sion; he seemed to know it was hot, and rather liked it. But Dr. Yandell insisted that it would kill the frog; it would surely produce inflamma tion of the stomach; no living creature could take flre into its stomach and live, he said. Well, sirs; the major said he would make good his whole story. He declared that the frog would be none the worse for his hot supper. He had Henry to get a wooden box and put the toad in it, and shut him up over night. As I live, boys, next morning that toad was not only alive, but gave un mistakable evidences of being hungry ! He recog nized the major and winked at him; and when a candle bug, one of those yellow fellows with a hard shell, — was thrown in the box, the frog snapped him up like a trout would a minnow ; fact. 95 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. POKING FUN AT THE MEDICAL DIRECTOR. DUEING the siege of Atlanta, said our Genial Friend on this occasion, looking radiant and happy in a new suit of linen, his blue eyes twinkling with merriment, when At lanta was headquarters of Hood's army, the Medi cal Director of Hospitals, the venerable Dr. Sam uel Hollingsworth Stout, now living at Dallas, Texas, formerly of Giles county, Tennessee, issued orders that every patient at the hospital-post of Covington, Ga., forty miles below Atlanta, should be sent further down into the interior, so as to make room at that, the nearest and largest hospital post, for the wounded expected during the battle which was daily expected, but which hung fire, literally speaking, for many weeks. There were at Covington some six large hospi tals ; I mean, there were six separate hospital organ izations of large accommodating capacity, but some of them occupied four, five or six separate build ings. The Hill hospital was all under one roof, the only one that was, — a female college building; but the others were simply beds on each side of the room, in every little "store," — little rough plank one-story buildings, arranged on the four sides of the public square, in which stood the court house; the stereotyped plan of little towns throughout the 96 POKING FUN AT THE MEDICAL DIRECTOR. South. The churches were also filled with bunks. We didn't have any nice little enameled bedsteads, or iron-framed cots; — ours were just rough, un dressed scantlings, knocked together; and our feather beds were sacks filled with hay; pillows ditto. Well, there were on duty at that post, seventeen medical officers, I amongst the rest. When the patients, all that were able to bear transportation, were sent away, and the battle didn't take place, and no new arrivals came, there were more doctors at the post than patients, and we literally had noth ing to do, but frolic, ride with the girls, have pic nics and fishing parties. But Dr. Stout issued an order that each day one of the medical officers should be detailed by the post surgeon, of whom, by-the-bye, I'll tell you a good story, — to serve as "Officer of the Day." From 7 a. m. one day, till 7 a. m. the next day, he was to be "on duty"; that is, he was to wear a sash and sword, and stay where he could be called at night if wanted; and during the day he was to strut around (that wasn't in the order, however), and do nothing. There just wasn't anything to do, I tell you ; nevertheless, the order was that the officer of the day should visit and inspect each ward (most of them were empty; we were to look for spooks, I reckon), and visit every department; kitchen, laundry, — everywhere; inspect the food, the cooking, etc., and to make a written report every morning to headquarters. 97 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. All this red tape was nonsense, and the report soon degenerated into a mere statement that every thing was 0. K., — a perfunctory performance of about four lines. The officer of the day was the only one who would stay in town; all the others would go off frolicking or fishing. By-and-bye Dr. Stout wrote down to the post surgeon, saying that the medical officers did not show zeal enough in their duties, and that they must be required to make more detailed re ports. I made one of twenty-four pages of fools cap, which was all words. I didn't say a thing more than I had been saying in four lines, but said it differently ; rang all the changes on it. It begun by saying : "The English language is happily so constructed that a great many words of diverse origin and de rivation can be so brought to bear as to convey one and the same idea; and consequently, one best versed in the resources of the language will natur ally be most facile in its use." "Thus," I said, to give an illustration: Instead of saying as Dr. Brown did yesterday, that the bread was a little scorched, it might be expressed thus: "In consequence of inattention, ignorance, in competence, temporary absence or preoccupation of the colored divinity who presides over the culinary establishment of Ward 3, — vulgarly called the 'cook,' a part of the nutriment, the subsistence, the 'grub,' — a very essential part, which was that day 98 POKING FUN AT THE MEDICAL DIRECTOR. being prepared and intended for the alimentation and sustenance of the unfortunate beings who, by accident, exposure or fate were at that time sick or wounded and lying prone on a roughly extem porized bunk in a building near by, by courtesy called a hospital, — sick, wounded or else convales cent, and dependent on others, ourselves, towit, and deprived, doubtless much to their sorrow and re gret, of the privilege of being at the front in the trenches or on the line of battle, battling for their country; towit, the bread, — ^being too long exposed to the oxidizing influence of the oven, had been somewhat scorched, burnt, or otherwise injured, being thereby rendered unwholesome and unflt for the purposes for which it was intended; towit, — the nourishment of the said sick, wounded or con valescent soldiers." Or the fact that the bread was burnt, I said, "might be thus expressed, if one were very scrupu lous as to the elegance of his diction, and wished to be exact, and not in the least to mislead or dis appoint the Honorable Medical Director who, we knew, in his zeal, was famishing for tidings from the half dozen patients and the seventeen doctors at that post, saying nothing whatever as to the condition of -the bunks and their sole tenants, the Lectularius family," and so forth, and so forth. I strung her out twenty-four pages, and didn't say anything except that the bread was burnt in cook ing. 99 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. Dr. Warmuth (now living at Smyrna, Tenn.), came into the post surgeon's office one morning where all the officers assembled once a day at least, to make his report as officer of the day for the pre ceding twenty-four hours. Dr. Macdonald, an old U. S. army surgeon, and a strict disciplinarian, was the post surgeon ; a good one on him presently. Dr. Warmuth wrote out his report and handed it to Dr. Macdonald. He said there was nothing to re port, as usual, except that a pig had fallen into the sink in the rear of Ward 3, and he respectfully sug gested that Surgeon , who would now come on as officer of the day, be requested to get him out. Of course they had the laugh on me, and rigged me no little about the pig. I put on my uniform, — coat buttoned up to the chin and devilish uncomfortable, I tell you; sum mer time; fiy time, — fishing time, and the trout were striking like all-possessed. I put on my sword and sash and went on duty as "Officer of the Day ;" all the other fellers went fishing, and took all the ladies, girls and wives, with them, leaving me, I do believe, the sole occupant of the town, outside of the hospital people; big fish fry and dance at the mill. Just my luck, I said. I never once thought of the pig; there was no pig in it, of course ; Dr. Warmuth was only poking fun at me and the medical director. Next morning when we were all assembled in the 100 POKING FUN AT THB MEDICAL DIRECTOR. post surgeon's office, and Dr. Dick Taylor was telling how big that fellow was that broke his hook and he didn't catch, and making me green with envy, I was reminded that my report was then due, and I thought for the first time of that pig. I took a piece of paper and a pen, and knocked off this: (here the Old Doctor handed Dr. Hudson a news paper clipping) without a break, and gave it to Dr. Macdonald: "Surgeon Warmuth in reporting mentioned that a pig in sporting on the brink of the sink, attracted by the od'rous vapors began to cut up divers capers, and essayed at last to take a peep into the depths of the nasty deep ; but owing to a little dizziness he got his pig-ship into business. I heard a squealing, which, appealing to every feeling of my nature, I quickly ran to get a man to lend a hand to help the porcine creature. The pig, in the meantime, be came apprehensive that the stink of the sink (which was very offensive), would produce a fit of indi gestion, revolved in his mind the knotty question, 'To be, or not to be.' He soon decided that if taken by our hands we'd save his bacon (not the Priar, but the fried), then another effort tried. Striving then with might and main, he landed on the land again, and scampered off with caper flne, a happier and wiser swine." Dr. Macdonald began to read : "Wha — what's this ?" he said ; "- -pig in sport ing on the brink of the sink ?" 101 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. "That's my report as officer of the day, sir," I said. "EespectfuUy forwarded to the medical director, not approved," he wrote on the back of it. Dr. Stout returned it "not approved," and added "this dignified officer is expected to make a more dignified report." But the young fellows in Stout's office "approved" of it, and they made copies of it, and it got intO' the Atlanta Constitution. There is where I got this; my wife found it with my old war things lately. Mr KT sr sr MT sr j» ji^ j» j» .» DR. DICK TAYLOR, OF MEMPHIS. AMONG the medical officers at Covington at the time I speak of, said the Old Doctor, was Dr. Dick Taylor, of Memphis. He was a rattler ; — full of fun as a kitten, and as chuck full of fight as a buzz-saw. He is living yet, I be lieve. He was an impetuous, hot-headed little fel low, but withal a genial and most companionable one. He had his wife with him, and they had a little boy about three years old, named "Jesse Tate." Mrs. Taylor, like Mrs. Boffins in "Our Mutual Friend," was a "high-fiyer at fashion," — a 102 DR. DICK TAYLOR, OF MEMPHIS. society lady. She was very proud of her little boy, and took great pains to train him in the way he should go, so that in the sweet bye-and-bye, he would not depart therefrom, but follow in the foot steps of his pa (nit). She had taught him the name of the President of these United States (tem porarily, then, dis-"United"), the name of the President of the Confederate States, the Queen of England, and a whole lot of other information that it is thought all children should possess, and her great pride was to have the little fellow show off before company. "Jesse Tate," his mother would say, "Who is President of the Confederate States ?" "Jeff Davis," the little chap would say. "Who is Queen of England?" "Victoria," Jesse would answer stoutly, and so on ; she would put him through his paces before all callers. Dr. Dick got tired of this nonsense, and he pur posely confused the boy for a joke. "Jesse Tate," he would say, "'Who is President of the United States?" "Abraham " "Tut, tut," his daddy would say. "Queen Victo ria is President of the United States." "Now, who is Queen of England ? "Vic ." "Tut-tut," his father would say, "You mean Jeff Davis," and so on, until he got the little fellow 103 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. SO confused that he didn't know which from 'tother. One day some fashionable ladies called, and of course Jesse Tate had to go through his perform ances. "Jesse Tate," his mother said, "tell Mrs. Hen derson, like a good little boy, who is President of the United States." "Queen Vic Davis," said Jesse stoutly. "Oh, no, my son; you forgot; Abraham Lincoln is the President of the United States." "Abraham Lincoln," said the child. "Now tell Mrs. Henderson; who is the Queen of England?" "Jeff Toria," said Jesse Tate. Poor Mrs. Taylor was mortified beyond expres sion. She said: "That's some of Dr. Taylor's work; he's always spoiling the child." $ ^ H< ^ One morning when we had assembled in Dr. Macdonald's office as usual. Dr. Macdonald who, you remember, had been a U. S. army officer, and was a great stickler for etiquette, said to Dr. Tay lor : "Doctor Taylor, I am much pained and surprised to hear that you so far forgot yourself yesterday, as I understand, as to curse one of the men, — a private. Kennedy, the ward master, complained to me yesterday that you had cursed him. You 104 DR. DICK TAYLOR, OF MEMPHIS. ought to remember. Doctor, that in this war we are engaged in a cause almost holy ; we are all brothers ; our soldiers are citizens, — not hirelings, — and at home, for all you may know, Kennedy's social posi tion may be as good as yours. It is only the acci dent of war that makes you an officer and him a private. Eeverse the situation; and suppose that you were a private ; how would you like for any one to curse you, just because he was an officer? You should treat the private soldiers with all kindness and consideration, because of their defenceless posi tion and the hardships " Just then Kennedy burst in at the door, which had been closed, and in great excitement, ex claimed : "Doctor Macdonald, the house is on fire !" Macdonald, furious with rage and anger, had already, before Kennedy had gotten the words out of his mouth, jumped up, and had seized a chair and was in the act of knocking Kennedy into king dom-come, saying: "You d — m'd scoundrel !— how dare you enter my office without knocking?" "But, Doctor, the house is on fire !" said poor Kennedy. "I dont care if it is," said Macdonald; "I'll teach you to knock at my door when you have any thing to communicate to me !" We pacified him bye-and-bye. Kennedy had gone, crestfallen and much hurt. 105 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. "Doctor Macdonald," said Dick Taylor, "I am pained and surprised to see that you would so far forget yourself as to curse a private. You should remember. Doctor, that we are engaged in a holy cause, and that we are all brothers, and " "Oh, you be hanged," said Macdonald. « H: ^ ^ I had rooms in the house occupied by Dr. Taylor and his wife and Jesse Tate. It was a little cottage of four rooms and a hall through the center. It was Dr. Taylor's invariable custom to take a nap after dinner. It was summer. He would spread a pallet on the fioor in the hallway, and would snooze an hour or so every afternoon. I used to sit on the little gallery, or "porch,'.' as they called it in Georgia, and read, usually, mean time. I had brought with me from Mississippi one of my men, a slave, a big black fellow named Jim. Jim was a kind of Jack-at-all-trades. I had given him permission to open a barber shop on his own account on the corner near our house. Of course he went by my name, and he had up a little sign, "Barber Shop," and his name underneath. One afternoon the shop was closed, I suppose, for a big strapping fellow, a "sick soldier," — a "hospi tal rat" as the chronic stayers were called, — a great gawky six-footer, — had been there to get shaved, I suppose, and not finding Jim, made inquiry for him, and had been directed to me, his owner, for information as to his whereabouts, as Jim went by 106 DR. DICK TAYLOR, OF MEMPHIS. my name. So, this "grim, gaunt and ungainly" specimen came up to the little porch where I was sitting, reading, and with an attempt at a salute that looked more like grabbing at a fiy than a salute, said: "Is you the man what keeps the barber shop ?" The spirit of mischief, always on me, prompted me to say, very kindly : "No ; there he is, lying down in the hall. He told me to call him if anybody came ; walk in." So, the big fellow went in, and waked Taylor up. I dodged behind the corner of the house, for I knew what was coming. Out came the fellow, at double-quick, and Taylor right at his heels, smashing Mrs. Taylor's little rocking chair over his head and back, and at every lick making the atmosphere purple with remarks that wont do to print. "The confounded scoundrel !" said Taylor, when he was able to speak; "To have the impudence to wake me up, and, damn him, to ask if I was the man that keeps the barber shop ! — your nigger !" 107 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. PRESUMPTIVE EVIDENCE. MY WIPE had a pretty, bright little darkey named "Flora." She was about ten years old, and while not old enough or trustworthy enough for nurse for the baby, she was an excellent hand to amuse him, and to keep him from swallowing the tack hammer, for instance. She was an admirable mimic, and, like many of her race, was a born musician. I remember she got hold of a harmonicon, somewhere, one of those lit tle cheap toy things that now sell for a dime, and it is astonishing the amount of "harmony" she could get out of it. My wife undertook to teach Flora to read. She got one of those little blue-back primers, in which there is a picture to illustrate the simple words. Like Smike in "Nicholas Nickelby," whom old Squeers, the Yorktown schoolmaster made spell "horse," and then go and curry his horse and feed him, so as to impress it upon'the mind; there was "a-x, ax," and a picture of an ax; "o-x, ox," and a picture of an ox, and so on. Flora learned very rapidly to spell "a-x, ax," and "o-x, ox," and "j-u-g jug," etc., and could rattle it off nicely. One day my wife, suspecting that Flora was get ting along too fast, — that she was not learning to connect the sound of the letters with the object, after putting her through all of the '"a-x, ax," and 108 A CLOSE CALL. "b-o-x, box," exercise, put her thumb over the little picture of the ox, and said : "Flora, what is that?" "O-x, ox," said Flora. "How did you know that was 'o-x, ox ?' " said my wife. "I see'd his tail," said Flora, with a shame-faced grin. A CLOSE CALL— A BAD STAND AND A WORSE RUN. I'VE BEEN tellin' you fellers about Covington a good deal, said the Fat Philosopher at next visit, — but I b'lieve I didnt tell you about the time I was killed, did I? No? Well, it was while there were so few patients there and so many doctors, — that General Stead man, or Stoneman, I dont recollect which, — dont make much difference, — raided the place. We thought maybe he had heard of the state of affairs there, and being short on real good doctors sought this opportunity to replenish. Now, surgeons, — non-combatants, are usually not taken prisoners ; but on this occasion we feared 109 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. that finding so many of us, and with nothing to do, he'd relieve the Southern Confederacy of the tax of feedin' us. At any rate, we feared that the yanks might take along some of us, at least, if only as specimens, leaving only enough to care for the few remaining sick and wounded at that post. Now, like the parable in the Bible about all those fellers who were invited to a party and didn't want to go, every feller had some excuse. For my part, like also one of the aforesaid, I had "married a wife," and we had a baby, and it would have been exceedingly inconvenient, to say the least, for me to make a trip North, even at the invitation of so distinguished a gentleman as General Whateverhis- namewas, without the wife and baby, especially. I particularly didn't relish the idea of visiting John son's Island at that season of the year, however attractive that place might be thought by others to be; so, when the news of the approach of the raid ers was received, every man at the post lit out for the timber to hide and wait till the clouds rolled by. We never dreamed that they would want us so bad as to pursue us. It never occurred to any of- us that the Federal army might be so short on doc tors as to have these fellers scour the woods for a let thought to be particularly choice. But they did. Lesassieur and I (Lesassieur of New Orleans; he was bookkeeper at the hospital), we hid in a thicket, down in a little creek bottom about two miles from town, and kept as still as mice. By-and- 110 A CLOSE CALL. bye we heard the yanks talking, and heard the rat tle of their accoutrements and the tramp of their horses hoofs up on the hill to our left, and quite near us. It is likely, if we had staid still they would have passed us unobserved; but Lesassieur, like a fool, jumped up and ran. And I, like an other fool, did the same. There was a dense woods, the river bottom or swamp, about half a mile off, and that was our des tination. We knew if we could reach that cover, pursuit would be impossible and would cease. ,But we had to cross an "old field" of broom sage before getting to it, and it was separated from the old field by a ten-rail fence. Across the field Lesassi eur went like a scared rabbit, and cleared, the fence at a single bound, as easily as a buck could have done it. Now, as a jumpist I was never regarded by my many admiring friends with that degree of enthu-, siasm with which they regarded my many other accomplishments; and as for running, — well, — I never practiced, you know. I followed as fast as I could, however, but not near fast enough to keep even in speaking distance of Lesassieur. He was scared, — that's what ailed him. I thought, how ever, that a bad run was better than a bad stand, so I put in the best licks I knew how. Of course I wasn't scared; — oh, no. I just desired to advise Lesassieur to hurry up. He had an old mother, he 111 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. said, who would grieve for him if he came up missin'. I hadn't gotten half way across this field when the yankees hove in sight. They were in hot pur suit, — seven of them, well mounted. They began to fire at me about three hundred yards off, and came with a whoop. They yelled like Comanche Indians. They were elated, I dont doubt, at the prospect of capturing an unusually fine specimen, —a young one. They were getting uncomfortably near, and *'bang," "zip," "bang" went the guns, the bullets hitting the ground all around me. The situation was getting serious. Lordy, — everything mean that I had ever done in my life went through my mind like a panorama in brilliant colors. I recalled with out an effort all those things that I had done which I hadn't orter done, and similarly all those things that I had left undone, etcetera, and I felt that there was "no health in me" (see Sunday School books) ; and it did look as if very soon there would be no breath in me. At least that wasn't a very healthy place for doctors about then. Something had to be "did," and that pretty quick, or I'd be a cold corpus, and my wife a widow, to say nothing of the great loss to science and the Confederate army. I had in my hand a small mahogany watch box, in which was my wife's watch, her diamond ring, and some eighty dollars in gold coin. (Lordy, if those yanks had known it.) My own fine watch I 112 A CLOSE CALL. had in my pocket, but no sign of it was visible, you bet. I had prudence enough to not tempt those young men; it would have been wrong. Presently a bullet struck that box and shattered it, scattering the contents '"promiscuous." I saw that I would be killed before I could reach the fence, and you know a feller thinks mighty fast when death is looking him in the face at short range. Stratagem came to my mind. I stopped, faced my pursuers, who, by that time were coming on the run, one feller checking up now and then to take a crack at me, — and^throwing up my hands, waved my handkerchief in '^ken of surrender. But, confound them, their early education in the ethics of war had evidently been neglected; they didn't know what a fiag of truce was (it was a clean handkerchief, or I would not have much blamed them for not recognizing it). "Zip," "zip" went the bullets still, cutting pretty close, but missing me. At the pop of the next shot, I threw up both hands, and fell heavily forward, — dead, — ^they thought. "Oh, I fetched him that time," said one. In an instant they were all around me. I laid still. One fellow was drunk, and when he found I was not dead he pointed his gun at me and fired. He would have unquestionably finished me but for a boy, the youngest of the party, who knocked the gun up just in time to save me. "Oh, dont shoot a wounded prisoner," said he. 113 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. "Are you much hurt?" asked one of them. "No," I said, — very much at a loss how to round it off, fearing that when they found I had tricked them they would kill me. "I am not hit at all; but I saw I would be killed, so I offered to surren der, but you kept shooting, and that was the only way I could think of to make you stop ; I surrender to this man," said I, pointing to the boy. I got up on the boy's horse behind him, and slip ped a $5 gold piece in his hand (one I had picked up of my scattered coin). The drunken man still wanted to shoot me. The boy gave me a pull at his canteen, for I was nearly famished for water. I was "spittin' cotton." Do you fellers know what that is? The boy said: "I'll protect you and take you to the general." The general, as soon as he saw that I was a sur geon, released me and said: "What did you run for ? You might have been killed; we dont take medic.al officers prisoner." You bet I had a big attack of glad. I went home to my wife and baby with a glad heart. Dinner was about ^ready ; we had a good dinner, too, and I made that yankee cavalry boy sit right down to the table with us, and we just treated him like a brother. We stuffed his haversack with pies and apples, and gave him a bottle of home-made scup pernong wine, ten years old, a product for which the Georgia people are famous. I wish I knew what 114 SMUGGLES CONTRABAND SUPPLIES. became of that boy. I kept his name and home address a long time, but lost it, somehow. Find my stuff? Well, yes, — most of it. Next day I went to the spot. (I thought at one time of erecting a monument to me on the spot where I fell a martyr to the Lost Cause, — where the yankees killed me, — as they thought.) I hunted around in the broom sage where I fell, and was lucky enough to find most of the contents of my box; I've forgotten now, how much of it was missin'. «¦ •le ttr J» JU THE DOCTOR SMUGGLES CONTRA BAND SUPPLIES. A PTEE the storm was over, the post was broken up, — we were then in the enemy's lines, — and I was left there (at Coving ton), in charge of a lot of bad cases that couldn't be moved. Old man Giles, who had a little drug store, which, like everything else, was rifled, gutted, — robbed, came to me and said : "Doctor, the yankees in plundering my store overlooked twenty bottles of chloroform. It was in the bottom of a box, with a false bottom over it. They took everything else that was in the box, and 115 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. thought they had gotten to the bottom, when they hadn't. Let me sell it to you for the Southern Confederacy." "What will you take for it, Mr. Giles?" I said. "You know I have nothing but Confederate money." "That's good enough for me," said the loyal old fellow. "I reckon it's worth fifteen dollars a bottle, aint it? And as the bottles are only about two- thirds full, we'll call the twenty bottles fifteen." (The fact is, there was a pound of chloroform in each bottle ; but I didn't know it till I went to dis pose of it in Augusta later.) So, I paid him for fifteen bottles at $15 a bottle, $335 Confed. I took my twenty bottles of chlorofom to my room, and by filling each one reduced them to fifteen, thus saving space in packing. I hid them securely in the bottom of a small trunk, and taking the hint from Mr. Giles' experience, I put a bot tom over them, a false bottom, for, being in the enemy's lines, I didn't know, if overhauled by a picket at any time on my way to Augusta, when I should be ready to go, but that the precious chloro form would be taken from me, which it surely would have been; it was contraband, and much needed by our people. Well, sirs, I finally got away the last of my sick and wounded, all who didn't die, poor fellows, and with my wife and young baby and my cook and nurse, I went to the nearest place where the railroad was not torn up, and took a 116 SMUGGLES CONTRABAND SUPPLIES. train for Augusta, which place we reached without accident or incident worth mentioning. The very first person I met whom I knew wa,s Peterson, of the medical purveyor's department, out looking for — chloroform! Said he: "I'm on track of a lot of chloroform that I was told a blockade runner has brought in. I want to see what else she has." I said : "What are you paying for chloroform ?" "We need it dreadfully, and Dr. Young sent me out to look for some, and if I came across any, to get, it, at whatever price," said Peterson. "Perhaps I can put you onto a lot, say, fifteen or twenty pounds; — what shall I say to the party it is worth ?" I said. "That aint the question; can I get it?" insisted Peterson excitedly. "I'll see the party by 4 p. m. and let you know ; but a price will have to be flxed, some time," said I. "Offer her" (the most fearless and successful smugglers thro' the lines were "she's"), "offer her two hundred dollars a pound," said Peterson, get ting more excited, "and if she says that is not enough, make it three hundred. Anything to get the chloroform." I then told him that I had flfteen bottles, and stated that I had bought it in twenty bottles, but that they were not full, and that I had consolidated it to reduce bulk. I told him that I had brought it purposely to turn over to the Confederate author- 117 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. ities, knowing how much it was needed, and that I would not accept any such price for it as he was recklessly offering; that I had only paid $15 per bottle, and called it fifteen bottles, and that the gov ernment should have it for what it cost me. He wouldn't hear to the proposition. "Why," said he, "I would have to pay anybody else a big price for it, and would be glad to get it. You had all the trouble and risk of smuggling it in, and if you had been caught you would have been sent to prison at Johnson's Island, or elsewhere, and I aint a going to rob you in any such way." And in spite of my protests he made out dupli cate papers at $150 per pound, and informed me that there were full twenty pounds in the lot, — just ten times as mueh per pound as I had paid for it, and I got a pound and a quarter to the pound. He paid me $3000. My stars, Dan'els, if such speculations were possible now, wouldn't a feller get rich ? "No, Doctor ; not your sort of 'fellers' and mine. It would be a case like the man who, at one time in his life, he said, could have bought a league of land in Texas for a pair of boots, — ^but he didn't have the boots," I answered. ^ ^ H< Ht At that time you could buy anything at any price asked for it, with the absolute certainty of doubling your money on it next day, perhaps, — in a short time, at least, things rose so fast, or, rather, Con- 118 SMUGGLES CONTRABAND SUPPLIES. fed. script declined so fast. Why, an officer couldn't live on his pay, and but for speculations, opportu nities for which were frequent, he would have been confined to the army ration of beef and hard tack ; couldn't afford sweetnin' and coffee; I mean, real, shonuff coffee, or anything. I recollect, my pay and commutation for quarters and fuel and horse feed amounted to $365 a month. Think of that, and coffee scarce at $50 to $75 a pound. I remember one day I bought a wagon load of home tanned leather from a countryman, and with out unloading it from the wagon, sold it to the town storekeeper at $1300 profit; and made $3000 on a barrel of peach brandy after drinking off of it a week. Fact. (And the Old Doctor smacked his lips at the bare recollection of the delicious aroma of the Georgia home made peach brandy. ) I believe, said he, that what Homer called the "Nectar of the Gods" was Georgia peach brandy. H: :K ^ •!< When left at Covington, as stated, in charge of the few bad cases after the raid, I found on hand at the hospital quite a supply of New Orleans molasses, and a deficit of nearly ever3rthing else. I sent four barrels to Augusta and sold it, and with the money bought chickens and such things as the men needed. They couldn't live on molasses, you know, tho' I, myself, am pretty fond of sweet things. I can show you fellers today, the account of sales of that molasses at $37.50 per gallon. 119 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. THE HOSPITAL SOLDIER. SAID our ever welcome visitor on this occa sion : The hospital soldier, — the "convales cents," they were generally called, — tho' many of them had convalesced so long ago that they had forgotten they were ever sick, — were omnipres ent and all-pervading. About towns and villages they were simply everjrwhere. They invaded prem ises on any and all and no pretexts; loafed, stole fruit,— well, as they say now, — ^the woods were full of them. Go where you would, there you would see more or less gaunt, gray-clad figures, usually very dirty. Of course this was a class of soldiers, mostly conscripts, who would resort to almost anything to escape duty in the field. The better element were true Southerners, and as soon as able to leave the hospital would hasten back to their commands. It was not uncommon to see a soldier twice or thrice wounded. But there were hosts of pretenders, called, in war times, "malinguerers." I do not know the etymology of the word. It often required much watching and some ingenuity on the part of the surgeon to detect these fellows. I remember one fellow who pretended to have a stiff knee. He played it on the surgeons for nearly a year. We were deceived by the fact that this party was an educated man and of good family. He should have been too proud to shirk duty and 120 THE HOSPITAL SOLDIER. play off, but he wasn't. I say should have been too proud. It is pride, pride of character, self-respect, regard for the opinions of others that makes a man brave. But for this element in the soldier's make up, there are few who would face a charge. There would be no Hobsons, no Cushings. This man had a soft position as bookkeeper in one of the hospitals. By-and-bye we began to sus pect that that knee was not quite as stiff as he made believe, and we proposed to put him under chloro form to break up the adhesions, we told him; not intimating, of course, that we suspected him. He had said it was the result of rheumatism, and adhesions were supposed to exist. He expressed himself as being very anxious to have his leg restored to usefulness, and he could not very well do otherwise than consent to the proposition. Some of the hospital attendants had told us that this fellow was a fraud, and that they had seen him when off his guard, skipping along as brisk as s. mink ; but when he was hailed, the leg immediately got stiff, and he went to limping. Three of the surgeons had an understanding that they would get everything ready to operate, and at the last moment remember that something was for gotten, so as to create a delay while the patient was in position, in order to test the powers of the volun tary muscles of the leg. The man was accordingly put upon the table, the leg laid bare, and everything gotten ready for the 121 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. chloroform. He was lying on his back, with the legs just far enough down to bring the edge of the table under the knee. Just then I said : "Here, — this is not the bottle of chloroform I want ; there is a better sort on my desk I got out for this case ; go and bring it quick." (The messenger, however, had his cue that he was not to bring it quick.) The stiff leg held out manfully; but.it must have looked to the poor fellow that the man would never come with that chloroform. Presently the leg couldn't stand the strain any longer. It began to weaken and droop. As quick as a flash he would jerk it up, — but d-o-w-n it would go again, until the extensors just became paralyzed; human nature couldn't stand it, and the leg and foot just slowly went down, down, till that leg was as limber as the other. The game was up. He saw he was caught. He just got up, and putting a bold front on said : "Well, gentlemen, you have beat me. I reckon I had better go back to my command." "Yes," said I, "I think you had." And he went. 122 ^ sT THE HOSPITAL DIETARY. THE HOSPITAL DIETARY. NICE DISTINCTIONS WITH LITTLE DIFFER ENCE. AS MIGHT be expected from the character of the food, the cooking, which was of the most primative sort, the irregular life and the exposure, — the vicissitudes of the solider's life, diarrhoea was the prevalent, the almost universal disease, both in camp and in hospital. No matter what else a patient had, he had diarrhoea. The Medical Director of Hospitals arranged a diet table, and all the hospital medical officers were required to prescribe what was theoretically sup posed to be appropriate diet for each patient. There was "Pull Diet," "Half Diet," and "Low Diet," but the victualing range was so limited that there was more of a distinction than a difference between them. Pull diet was beef and cawn bread, and whatever else could be had, such as vegetables. Half diet was soup and toast, and such like ; while low diet was rice and milk, — if you could get the milk. The poor fellows got awfully tired of rice. I remember one poor fellow, a delicate, thin boy, convalescent from a long spell of typhoid fever, the curse of camp and hospital. He needed nothing so much as wholesome, nourishing food. Eice and milk was his portion day in and day out. At last he revolted : 123 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. "Take it away," he said; "I had just as soon lie down and let the moon shine in my mouth as to eat rice." And I am much of his way of thinking. ^ ^ ^ Hi On the surgeon's rounds every convalescent was expected and required to be at or on his bunk. We would go to each one and ask about his bowels, and prescribe "low diet." In a half hour after, if one should go out behind the barn or elsewhere, those convalescents would be found with haversacks full of green peaches or green apples or cucumbers or whatever else they could get, devouring them raven ously. Of course, they never got well. Diarrhoea got to be second nature with many of them. Speaking of melinguerers, there was a class of older men, for the most part conscripts of the farmer, or tramp class, who did hate the very sight of a gun, and many of them would manage to get sent to the hospital on some pretext or another, and as said, they made a protracted visit in most cases. A specimen of this class was an old ignorant fellow named Dusenberry. I found him amongst some new arrivals one morning, sitting on the side of a bunk, all drawn up. Of course, his name and reg iment had been entered, and the diagnosis, "diar rhoea" recorded by the clerk, — diarrhoea, if nothing else. It was always a safe refuge: "Di-ur-ree," most of them called it. Wben I got to him on my rounds, I said : 124 THE HOSPITAL DIETARY. "Well, my friend, what is the matter with you ?" "Well, Doc,"— they would call all of the medical officers "Doe," the familiarity of the style, it seems, was intended as a manifestation of a friendly re gard and to propitiate; I need not. say it was not always appreciated, nor accepted in the spirit in which it was offered. '"Well, Doc," he answered, "I mostly dont know 'zackly what ails me. I've got a misery in my chist, a soreness in my jints, a-a-kinder stiffness in my back, and a hurtin' a-1-1 over !" "Got the 'di-ur-ree f said I, recognizing a make- believe at once. "Yes, yes. Doc," he eagerly assented, "got it purty bad. "Got the hypochondriasis ?" said I, with a show of concern. "The worst you ever see'd, Doc," replied the man. "Put this man on low diet," I said to the nurse, and later, I told him to "watch him." I found at another bunk a burly Irishman, who was real sick. I will say here, I never found an Irishman "malinguering," — playing off. They made the best soldiers, as a rule, of any class, and you bet I am a friend to the whole race ! God bless them, and give them "Ould Ireland," — a free coun try, as a rightful inheritance ! I said to him, with a view of flnding out what was the matter, and what had been done for him before he came to me : 125 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. "What treatment have you had, my friend?" (meaning medical) . "Dom'd bad. Doc," said he. * * * St: One night there was an arrival of a large number of sick and wounded, and every bunk was filled. All hands (but one, I learned later), went to work to re lieve their necessities. I was busy with them, when one of the young assistant surgeons who had lately been sent to report to me, came and said that a lot of new patients had been sent to his ward, and asked me if I "wanted him to attend to them to night?" I just looked at him, a straight look, full of meaning, but said not a word. He attended to them. I mention this to show that there were doe- tors and doctors, then as now, and that the "beats" were not all conscripts and privates. A MEDICAL "HIGH DADDY." WHEN I took charge of one of the hospitals at Marietta, said the genial Old Doctor, I found a great many 'soldiers there, appa rently well and able to do duty in the field. There seemed to be as many attendants as patients. So, T had a cleaning up, a sifting out, and thus re- 126 cruited the ranks in the field, considerably. Every man capable of bearing and shooting a gun was needed at the front. I had noticed a very officious chap acting as ward master or nurse in one of the wards ; a big, strong, country fellow, strapping and hale. He is the fel low Dr. West told me of afterwards, who, on being instructed to give a certain patient a pill every two hours during the night, counted up that there would be six times to give medicine, and, I suppose, he reasoned that if one pill is good, six are better ; he just gave the patient all six at one dose, and laid down to sweet repose. When I got to this fellow, — they were all stand ing in a row, the attendants and supernumeraries, and I would question them and dispose of thern "on their merits," as the saying is. I said: "Well, sir, what command do you belong to ?" He was the most impudent looking fellow imag inable. He had a supercilious look, and when he spoke he turned his head on one side, after the manner of Mr. Pecksniff; he evidently had a good opinion of himself. He had been sent to hospital for some sickness (probably), but had been well so long he had forgotten it. He had probably gone from one hospital to another down the road as the sick were shifted lower down. It was a great trick for convalescents, — ^his sort, to get to accompany the sick to hospital, and they managed to make a good long stay, on one pretext and another. 127 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. "What command do you belong to?" I said. "Me?" said he. "Yes,— you." "I belong to the 43nd," he replied. "The 43nd«;Aai!f' said L He looked at me in pity and surprise, and said : "The 43nd rigiment" (with accent on "ment"). "Yes, I know," I said, "but what State? The 43nd regiment of what State troops?" His surprise increased, and with astonishment depicted on his countenance, not unmixed with commiseration for my ignorance, he said : "Why,— the 43nd GEOEGIA, of course," as if there were no other troops in the field that he had ever heard of. "Well," I said, — "what are you doing here ? You are not sick now ?" "ME?" he said. "Yes; you." "Why, — I'm — er-er, — I'm the chief, — head, — medical, er-ev-medical medicine-giver-of ward three !" in tones of surprise, that I should not be aware of a fact of such stupendous importance. He gave it to me slowly, for fear, evidently, of collapse. As it was, it had a most prostrating effect on me. "Well," I said, — "I think you ought to be pro moted. Go back to the 43nd 'ligiment,' and tell your colonel to make you head chief, medical or otherwise, bullet arrester; you'll be good to stop a bullet from some less important person." 128 HIS IDEA OF HAPPINESS. HIS IDEA OF HAPPINESS. IEEMEMBEE once I was standing at the gate of the hospital talking to Dr. Pringle, the vil lage doctor, who, having by some means es caped conscription, or was exempt in some way from military -service, for you must know that before the war was ended everybody had to go; everything that could shoot a gun had to go to the front. Oh, war is just hell, as Grant said, and no mincing it, if you'll excuse an emphatic remark by way of parenthesis. At first the best men volun teered. As they were killed or died their places had to be filled, and if there were not volunteers, — aud later, — there were not many, — ^the conscript officers got what was left. The first conscription took all men between 30 and 45; then, between 45 and 60; then between 16 and 30. "Eobbing both the cradle, and the grave," , one fellow expressed it. Hence, to see a man at home, and in citizen's clothes was indeed a rare sight. Dr. Pringle was a handsome, dapper little fellow of the band-box sort. He was about forty, — very dressy, and smelt of sweet soap. His shirt front was starchy and stiff, and his black cloth suit was neatly brushed. He was real pretty to look at; such a contrast to his surroundings. While we were in conversation, some half dozen or more '"hospital soldiers," "convalescents," had 129 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. gathered around, and with mouths agape were listening to our conversation. Presently one cadav erous looking cuss, — the very picture of diarrhoea and the effects of diarrhoea, drawled out : "Doctor, you ought to be a mighty happy m-a-n" (with rising inflection on "man"). "Why so, my friend?" said the doctor. "'Cause you've got on a biled shirt, and your lowels aint outen order," replied the poor fellow. !»• jr sr *r «r sr Jfi JU j» j» » WHY HE WAS WEARY. THAT reminds me of a good one, said the Old Doctor, when he could get his breath after laughing over the recollection of the fellow and his notion of perfect happiness. There was a dandifled little chap, a sweet-scented chap, literally, for he was always perfumed with Lubin's extract, — who was on duty, detailed as clerk in the commissary department. He claimed to be a nephew of General Joseph E. Johnston, and was generally known as, and called by the officers at that post, "Uncle Joseph's Nephew." He was a pretty blonde ; parted his hair in the middle. It was curly and pretty, and he had the loveliest little blonde mustache. His name was Mitchell, but he 130 WHY HE WAS WEARY. called it "Meshelle." Pie was immensely fond of ladies, — the young ones, — -who petted him and made him a bigger fool than he was naturally. He was great on the sing; had a little creakv falsetto voice, and he trummed a little on the guitar. He wrote "poetry"; quoted sentimental pieces, partic ularly from Tom Moore. In brief, he was a pretty good specimen of Hotspur's "fop." One summer afternoon, lolling in an easy chair, surrounded by a bevy of pretty girls, I saw him on the little gallery or porch of the residence of one of Covington's best families. The girls, half dozen of them, perhaps, were fanning him and petting him as he leaned back with the most affected air, and they were importuning him to sing. The bal cony extended out to, and was flush with the side walk. Of course, a lot of "convalescents" had assembled to listen; they were everywhere where there was a prospect of anything whatever going on or happening, or likely to happen. They would seem to spring out of the ground. One of the girls was saying: "Now, Captain Meshelle (with accent on 'shelle'), you must sing some for us." (Captain, nothin'; he was just a private. The only thing "Captain" about him was the trimmin's on his coat.) "Oh, Miss Sue, — I cawnt sing, you know; only a little for my own amusement," said this swell, with an air that, as Sut Lovingood would say, made my big toe itch ; I felt like kicking him. 131 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. "No, Captain, but we know you can sing, and do sing. Maggie says you sing just too lovely for aw?/- thing, and we will take no denial," urged one of the girls. "Do sing some for us. Captain," said another, — a pretty little black-eyed Miss; "Puss has come' over tonight just especially to hear you sing, and it will be such a disappointment if you dont." "What then, shall I sing?" said the "Captain." "Oh, — just any-thmg; anything you like," said all of the girls in chorus ; "We'll leave it to you." Thus encouraged and urged, our little dude straightened up, and with a finiky air, his eyes turned up like a dying goose, in a little falsetto voice he began: "W-h-y — am I so w-e-a-k and w-e-a-r-j' " (with a heavy prolonged accent on "we") . At that interesting point one of the gray-backs who had been peeking through the ballusters of the little gallery, sang out : "Hits 'cause you've got the di-ur-ree, you Sunday galoot !" 132 -ff if «¦ HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES. HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES. ON ONE occasion while serving in the hospi tals in Georgia, it ^vas at Marietta, and we had "Officer of the Day" there, too, and it was my day on, and I had to sleep at the hospital, — on entering my ward one morning, — ^there had been an arrival of sick and wounded early that morning, and the wards were all filled up, — the most pathetic, the most doleful, yet the most ludi crous sight met my eyes. In the central tier of the bunks was a young boy seated on, or rather, sitting propped up in bed on one of the bunks, who had been shot through the mouth while in the act of hollerin' (began the Old Doctor on this visit to the Journal office) . The ball had passed clear through both cheeks, cutting the dorsum or upper part of the tongue pretty bad. There he sat, bolt upright, his face swollen till his eyes looked ready to pop out; the skin drawn tight, the tongue swollen to tremendous size, and hanging out about three inches, with ropes of saliva drippin' off; his face framed in by a handkerchief passed under the chin and tied on top of his head. It gave him the most distressed and the most distressing, — the most aweful appearance imaginable. Well, sirs, — he had an old screechy fiddle to 'his shoulder and was just making "Arkansaw Traveler" howl. That's the spirit, Dan'els, that made the "Eebs" 133 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. almost invincible. But, excuse me, I should ad dress such remarks to Hudson and Bennett and the boy; Dan'els knows. * * * * Amongst the new arrivals of sick and wounded on another occasion, whom I found in my ward, was a small dark-skinned man, apparently twenty- eight or thirty years old, who couldn't speak a word of English. I never did find out what nationality he belonged to. He had fine white teeth, coal-black hair, scant beard and small mustache, also very black. He had small sharp black eyes that twinkled. I think he was a Syrian, or Egyptian, or belonged to some of those eastern tribes; and his eyes had the look, and he had the general aspect of a hunted animal. As I entered, he was lying on a bunk near the door, and he was watching the door narrowly, as if expecting something or somebody, with fear and dread. When I approached him and spoke to him, he made no answer, as he could neither understand nor speak United States, but his eyes showed some concern ; he appeared to be anxious to know what I was going to do, to or with him. I had no means of finding out what ailed him, as I was not up in Syrian nor Sanscript nor Egyptian, nor yet any other language except my own mother tongue ; so, physical examination was my only recourse for making a diagnosis. By signs I made him under stand that I wanted to look at his tongue. When 134 HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES. that dawned upon him he poked out his tongue, readily, eagerly, it seemed to me, watching my every movement narrowly. But horrors ! I could'nt get him to take his tongue in any more; he kept it out as long as I remained in the ward, following me with his eyes everywhere I went ; and not till some time after I had finished my visit and left the room, the nurse told me, did he venture to draw in his tongue. The next visit, as soon as I entered, — he was watching for me, — out went the tongue, and noth ing could induce him tp retract it as long as I was in sight. I sat on the edge of his bunk, and in my efforts to find out what was the matter with him, for I had as yet no clew except that he had a rise of tempera ture, and I suspected typhoid fever, the most com mon form of fever those times, — doctors will read ily understand why I palpated his inguinal region, and I'm a taikin' to doctors now, — I stripped up his shirt over the abdomen, and placing my left hand over the suspected region I palpated, tapped the fingers with the other hand ; you all know, — to ascertain if there was tympanites there, or "dull ness." Well, sirs; with tongue still protruding, — a look as dark as his own Egypt (his or somebody else's), came on his face, and he just hauled off and struck me just as hard as ever he could; resented it as an 135 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. indignity, or an undue familiarity with his "in- 'ards." * * * * Ah, the surgeons saw many things never dreamed of by other people. I could talk for hours on un usual things, even in surgery, witnessed by them in times of war. I found in my ward one afternoon at my usual evening visit, a young man sitting on the side of his bunk eating his supper of rice, beefsteak and tea (the tea made of sassafras, most likely, for "store" tea was not to be had) . I asked him where he was wounded. He had just arrived on the train from the front with a large number of others ; they had all received their first dressings. He had a handkerchief tied under his jaws and over his head, covering the ears. With his finger he touched one ear then the other. I took the handkerchief off; the bullet had gone in at one ear and come out at the other, literally. Of course nothing could be done for him. In an hour afterwards the nurse came for me; the young man was dying from internal hemor rhage. ¦P '!¦ ¦!* 'J" A large shipment of wounded arrived at the Mar ietta hospitals about noon one day and were imme diately distributed to the wards, and we went at once to work on them, of course. The first one I saw and went to on entering my ward was a young 136 HOSPITAL EXPERIENCES. man from Swett's battery, who was shot through the right lung with a minnie ball. I knew him well. We had gone to school together in Vicks burg when we were boys. His name was Walter Founta;in. He was suffering great pain, and I placed a full dose of morphine on his tongue, and remarking, "You will be easy presently, Walter,'' proceeded to examine, wash and dress his wound. (You know we had no hypodermic syringes then; that was before their day.) "Yes, I'll be easy presently,'" he said. When I got through with him I had occasion to leave the room a few minutes, and hardly had the door closed behind me when I was startled by the report of a pistol. I hastened back; Fountain had blown his brains out. The poor fellow was "easy" now. I reprimanded the nurse for not taking away his arms on entering the ward, as was the rule. He said that he had concealed one pistol, giving up the other. He said : "I was standing at the table with my back to him, rolling a bandage. When you went out I heard him say: " 'Farewell, father and mother,' and before I could look around, he had shot himself." 137 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. ENCHANTED AND DISENCHANTED. AH, — MY recollections of Chattanooga are ever fresh and green; they are delightful. In the springtime of life everything looks rosy; the prospect opens up before the vision most invitingly. The blood is warm, — ^the fancy free, — and, oh, what possibilities occur to one who, having health and strength, properly directs his energies ! To many of us, however, it is the story, in the end, of Dead Sea apples; ashes on the lips. We dont pan out always, remarked the Old Doctor, with a sigh. I had much leisure, and you bet I enjoyed it. Oh, the rides with the girls in the beautiful woods. The horseback trips to the summit of old Lookout Mountain, — ^the fish frys, the picnics. Of course, a good looking young offieer, with handsome uni form, and apparently plenty of money, — ^plenty of spare time, — a fondness for young ladies' society, and a liberal share of impudence, was necessarily popular. It seems to me now, to look back upon those days and scenes, that the girls were prettier than they are now. In their "homespun" dresses, and, often, home made hats, they were as pretty as pictures. It may be that 'tis distance (of time) that "lends enchantment to the view," but I know distance couldn't "robe" those girls in homespun dresses. 138 ENCHANTED AND DISENCHANTED. There was one, in particular, whose image dwells with me to this day. Her name was Vannie Vogle. She was "the daintiest little darling of them all."' She had the brownest hair, the fairest skin, the reddest lips, the most laughing, love-lit eyes, the lithest figure, the smallest foot, the highest, most aristocratic instep, — the softest touch, — oh, she was just too sweet for anything in this world ex cept to roll into strips of peppermint candy. An anchorite could not have been indifferent to the charm of her presence. It looked to me that on her lips and in her eyes there was a standing dare to kiss her; it was audible in every glance of her gazelle-hke eyes, every gleam of her rosebud mouth, every smile; and it was as much as I could do to keep my hands off of her. One afternoon I called, and found her sitting alone on the little sofa in her parlor, the scene of many pleasant tete-a-tetes with her. I went in on her unexpectedly, — ^unannounced. She smiled sweetly, but said nothing, and did not rise. Her eyes twinkled mischievously, — she kept her lips closed, and to any remark or question she made not a spoken reply. I was puzzled. I said : "What's the matter with you, you little witch?" She smiled, but said not a word. I said : "I'll make you speak," — and with that I threw my arms around her; I could stand the dare no longer, — and tried to kiss her. She jumped up, and throwing me off, managed 139 EECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. to evade me,— and running out on the little gallery or porch, spat out a mouthful of brown juice. Looking reproachfully at me, as she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, she said : "You fool, — didn't you see I had snuff in my mouth?" •1* ¦P *S '*¦ A FRIEND IN DURANCE VILE. The guard house was on the main street of the town. It was a two-story brick store which had been converted into a prison by putting bars across the windows. Vannie and I often rode by there. I had a lovely racking horse, the one I got at Munfordsville; 'member? and she had a thoroughbred of her own. {She was a thor oughbred, you bet.) Back in my town where I had been raised, there was a particularly bad young fellow, almost a criminal, whom the young men would not associate with; he was a low dovn fel low, but a company of his sort had been formed (conscripted, no doubt), and brought out of Jack son. Of course, I knew the fellow and he knew me. His name was Dan Kerry. As Vannie and I rode down by the guard house one afternoon in gay spirits, I brave in my fine uni form with oodles of gold lace on the sleeves, and my cap covered with ditto; stars on my collar, — oh, I was gay ! As we passed the guard house, old Dan Kerry, for it was he, looking through the bars, yelled : 140 ENCHANTED AND DISENCHANTED. "Hello, Dickey, where the hell did you get them good clothes ?" I felt like I could have crawled through a crack half inch wide; and Vannie, the little minx, said, with a sly look out of the corner of her pretty eyes : "Who's your friend. Doctor ?" ^ ^ ^ ^ A LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN SPRITE. But Vannie was not the only pretty girl there, by a jug full; there were lots of them, said the Doctor. Of course, the time I speak of was before I got married, you goose, said he indignantly, in reply to a question from Hudson. There was one we called "The Daughter of the Eagle's Nest," because she lived up on top of Look out Mountain. She was a brilliant beauty, and the most dashing, fearless horsewoman I ever saw. I was riding up the mountain one afternoon, alone, and happening to look up overhead, — away out on the very brink of a precipice five hundred feet above me, there stood a magnificent horse, on whose back sat a lady with a scarlet jacket on, and her hair fallin' loosely down her back. It was she, "The Daughter of the Eagle's Nest." I thought it was the prettiest picture I ever saw ; the most romantic scene. She was the impersonation to my mind, of Scott's Di Vernon. 141 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. A ROMANCE OF ARMY LIFE IN CHATTA NOOGA. THE OLD DOCTOE entered the Journal office on this occasion looking unusually radiant. I saw at once that he was "loaded" ; so, giv ing him a good cigar, showing him courteously to his customary seat, while I, in default, occupied the nail keg, I proceeded to draw him out. "Got something on your mind that pleases you, I see. Doctor," said I. "Let's have it." After a few preliminary puffs of the Havana, the curling smoke of which he regarded with the eye of a connoisseur as it circled in blue rings above his head, he said: I reckon, Dan'els, my being detailed by General Bragg at Chattanooga to serve on a general court martial was an experience unique in the history of wars ; a surgeon, a non-combatant, serving as pros ecuting attorney of a military court. Fortunately for me I had acquired considerable knowledge of the law, having begun its study before I studied medicine, and I was able to acquit myself with credit, so I was assured by the late Judge Jno. B. Sale of Aberdeen, Miss., and later of Memphis. Judge Sale was one of the great lawyers of the South in that day, and why he was not then made Judge Advocate instead of me, is one of the unflnd- 142 THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. out-able things of the past. He was a captain of the line, having raised and brought out of Missis sippi a splendid company of volunteers. He was at Chattanooga, convalescent from a wound, I think, at the time the court was organized. He was detailed as a member. Knowing his ability, and having a great admiration and friendship for him, of course I got points from him in making up my "briefs" or indictments, as the case may be. Later, Judge Sale was appointed and commissioned Judge Advocate- General on Bragg's staff. While serving on that court, of course I was re lieved of all other duty, and it was a picnic. Court was called at 10 a. m., and usually adjourned at 8 p. m. Why, I had more leisure than I could dispose of ; couldn't give it away. I tried everything ; flsh- ing, frolicking, flirting. That's how I saw so much of Vannie and the other girls. But, boys, it was too funny to see a big, six-foot Tennesseean, a soldier, detailed as guard, and sta tioned at the door of our court, salute me, as I en tered of mornings, with a bundle of papers under my arm for appearances ; I, a smooth-faced chap of 33, as unsoldierly a looking chap as one would ex pect to see in a day's march. He would make a grab at me as I entered, intending it for a salute. The military salute of a soldier to a superior consists of raising the right hand rapidly to the visor of the cap, — palm outwards, flngers erect, — and lowering it to the side with a graceful sweep outward. This 143 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. fellow had an idea of the salute, but he grabbed at me instead. He would raise his hand to about the chin, fingers half closed and pointing outward, and the manoeuvre looked more like he was trying to catch a fly "on the fly" than salute an officer. It was too funny, — especially as he would call me "Jedge." But, I set out to tell you about the clever quar termaster. He was my room mate, and he was just the cleverest fellow that ever was. His name was Eiddle, Captain Eiddle; and he was the post quar termaster. He was universally called the "Clever Quartermaster," because he was so accommodating, — especially to the ladies. His home was in New Orleans, and he was engaged to be married, should he live to return, to a young lady of that city, and he did live, and did return and did marry her, and, as they say in the story books, they "lived happily forever afterwards." He was fidelity itself. He was very fond of ladies' society, and while he couldn't help flirting a little, for the same reason that the Irishman struck his daddy, — because "it was such an illigant opportunity," he was true to his love. He carried her picture "over his heart," he said, but I saw him. take it out of his coat tail pocket, and couldn't help reflectin' that if one's heart can only "be aisy if it's in the right place," he must have had a troublesome time, if there was where he carried his heart. I used to catch him looking at the picture, often. He was about twenty- 144 THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. five years old, but everybody called him "Old Eid dle," — I dont know why. I ean see him now, — his laughing face covered with a full, auburn beard, and his laughing blue eyes twinkling with merri ment. One reason I liked him was because he would laugh at all my jokes; he'd laugh at any thing. A man who will do that for a feller gets mighty close to his affections, dont he, Dan'els? Eiddle was a number-one business man, as well as a most genial and delightful companion ; still there was something about him suggestive of a pet cub bear. I was devoted to him. We roomed together, as I said, and my chief delight was to "rig" him; tell jokes on him of which he was innocent. If I made any faux pas, or got into any scrapes, — which -I often did, I'd make a "scapegoat" of Eiddle, and tell it as having happened to him and not me ; see ? Oh, he was an ideal room mate. In fact I was a young rascal. I kept his secret for him, but got out a report on him that he had addressed the young lady referred to in another place as the "Daughter of the Eagle's Nest," and that she had kicked him. I told one of the girls that I had a good joke on the eaptain, and promised to make a romance out of it for her, — for, — dont laugh, Dan'els, you nor Hudson; I know Bennett wont, for he's in love now, and all such matters are, with him, sorter "holy" you know, — I used in the sappy days of my adolescence, the "fuzzy" days of my green youth, — to-to attempt poetry! Fact! 145 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. Well, Eiddle had a clerk named Bingham, who, somehow got the nick name of "Bingingham," and another clerk, a spoony, wormy looking little fel low, named Dent, who worked in the quartermas ter's department. Dent affected the flute, and was sentimental as well as wormy, or because he was wormy, I dont know which, and I suppose it dont make any difference. I wrote out a rig-a-marole in doggerel about Eid dle and his imaginary love affair, and sent it to Miss Maggie Magee, who used to love to tease old Eiddle (I think, now, she was trying to catch him, herself ; oh, Bennett, the ways of girls are past find ing out; you might as well surrender). On her way to church. Miss Maggie, who had it in her bosom, and intended to show it to the other girls (in the choir), dropped the manuscript on the street. It was picked up, and somehow it got into the papers. Well, sirs, — I like to have gotten a duel on hand ; not with Eiddle, oh, no ; he liked it ; he thought it was just too good for anything, and had Dent busy a month making copies of it, — but with the young lady's father, bless you, — and I had to do some tall lieing to keep him from just frazzling me into small pieces ; he threatened to "wear me out." It created no end of fun. One paper after an other published it, till finally it got into the North ern illustrated papers, and I saw a copy of it with the funniest little pictures imaginable, and an edi- 146 THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. torial about it. It was given in a sort of derision as an illustration of the efforts of "Secesh poets." Here is the plaguey thing now. You can have it if you want it. My wife came across it the other day, along with my "oath of allegiance to the Uni ted States," some assignments to duty, — Provost Marshal's permits to walk about, etc., — I had clip ped it from the Chattanooga Telegraph, then edited by Henry Watterson; he hadn't gotten to be "a bigger man that Grant" then. My wife thinks it is real smart. Here it is ; read it, Dan'els." THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER, OR THE FATE OF THE FLIRT. Chattanooga, Tenn., May 13, 1863. Miss Maggie : Let me tell you a good story On my room mate. Captain Eiddle; Captain Eiddle, — Quartermaster Of the Post of Chattanooga; Eiddle, with the auburn tresses All combed back so slick and shiney ; Eiddle, with the whiskers auburn, — {He says auburn ; I say sunburn [t] ) . Tell you of his many virtues. Tell you of his winning ways ; Of how he came, and how he tarried, — How he courted, — would have married Chattanooga's fairest daughter. But she thought he "hadn't ought to" .147 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. "Shake" the giri he "left behind him." Now, how she knew that he was "mortgaged"; How she knew that he was joking, — When he told her of his feelings, — Feelings of a tender passion. Which, he told her, she had 'wakened, — 'Wakened by her smiling eyes, I know not ; nor do I reckon Anybody else can tell. It's not the province of us poets To sing of things unless we know it All "by heart." But who he is, and where he came from; How he came, and what he did; When he did it, and how he did it, — What he said, and how he said it, — Be my theme, and you will know it Like a book, when you have read it. ^ ^ ^ ¦!¦ In a far-off creole city, — In the land of milk and honey ; Land of beauty rich and rare, — Beauty that's not bought by money ; (That just fits, and it's so funny That I'm bound to put it in) ; Where the sun forever shines, — (On this far-off creole city) ; Shines so steady, — shines so hot it Melts a fellow (what a pity That the yankees ever got it) ; 148 THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. In this far-off Southland city, Where the cactus rears its head ; Where the groves of orange blossom; Where the gentle South winds speak Nought but love. Where the magnolia's lily cheek, — Fairer than the fairest maiden's. Is kissed by the gentle evening zephyrs ; In this land, and in this city — In Union street and near the city Livery stables, — stables that do smell offensive. There lived a youth, — not sad or pensive. But a gay and festive cuss ; — Gayer than Old Will-the-weaver, Gayer than a gay deceiver, — Gayer than a peacock gaudy, — Gayer than a speckled puppy With a ribbon 'round his neck. This the youth and this the hero Of the many deeds I sing ; Hero of this song sublime; Hero of my first attempt, — In writing which I spend my time, — Time more precious than is money ; Time more precious than are shin- Plasters of the bank of Chatta- Nooga, — or the many-colored plasters Whieh are now so very plenty. This the youth and this the hero ; 149 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. This the Clever Quartermaster ; This the favored of the ladies, — This the favored of the pressi Girls, to gain his good opinion All consult him as to dress, — As to every little matter, — Whether picnic, dance, or soiree, — Buggy ride or small tea party; 'Whether fancy dances dizzy. With some fellow slightly boozy Are a la mode. If Eiddle shakes his head, — Big old head with whiskers shaggy. The fiat's made, and all the Misses Lift their hands in holy horror. And exclaim, "Oh, shocking taste To have an arm around one's waist." T» T" •!* •(» Shall I tell you how he met her? Where he met her ? What he said ? Met Chattanooga's fairest daughter, — Daughter with the flowing tresses ? With a laugh like gushing waters. Making music in the air? With the eyes so soft and tender. Full of love and soft emotion ? Eyes, beneath whose silken lashes Soft and warm the love light dwells ; And whose lips are so bewitching That a fellow's fairly itching 150 THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. To kiss from their cherry softness The fragrant nectar nestling there? Tell you all about the nonsense He had whispered in her ear, — Ear forever lent to listen To the siren song of love ? Yes; but all you girls have had experience In this pleasant sort of thing, — And all of this you'll take for granted ; They were pretty well acquainted; Had met at evening's twilight hour, — Had met beneath the vine-clad bower, — Bower through whose vine-clad lattice Fell soft Luna's silv'ry rays. Had met at church, — at choir, — at tea ; Had met at tea at some kind neighbors ; Had met and mingled at their neighbors. 'Twas in Tennessee, In Chattanooga, At Mrs. Blankse's In the parlor — Behind the door, — In a chair. There he met this lovely maiden, — Lovlier far than the most radiant Dream of love that ever flitted With a form, oh, light and airy, — Flitted like a winsome fairy Thro' the poet's burning brain. 151 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. I cannot now put in rhyme All that was said on that occasion. The fact is, — I havn't time, — Even to tell how the dancers Mingled in the mazy dances; How they danced and how they chatted. How the music's 'livening strain Thrilled the dancers as they chatted, — Chatted as they moved along ; Chatted like some young canaries, — Chattered like a lot of squirrels ; Chatted like the very dickens. Nor to tell of how Mechelle, — "Me-shelle," — "Uncle Joseph's nephew" Put on the fancy licks and "did The thing up brown." How this beau with eyes so tender, — How this beau with form so slender. Swayed his figure to and fro ; How this heaviest "heavy coon dog" Turned the ladies in the quadrille, — Turned the ladies on the corners, — Turned them while they gaily chatted, — Chatted as they moved along ; While old Adam played and patted On the floor with even measure, — Measure keeping to his song. ^ H; H: ^ In the dance they met each other; 152 THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. Met, — and turned, — and moved along; Moved through dance without emotion. * * * * Now the dance was done and over; All the guests had now departed, — Departed, sleepy, to their homes. But, alone, this happy couple Arm in arm moved gently 'long ; Moved gently 'long the long piazza; Moved along in the silv'ry moonlight, — Moonlight falling gently o'er them, — Falling o'er them like a dream. Thus they walked, with hands entwining; Thus she walked with head inclining, — With her tresses gently resting, — Eesting on his manly breast. Thus he woo'd her, — didn't win her, Woo'd her with this siren song: "Chattanooga's fairest daughter, — 'Daughter of the Eagle's Nest'; Daughter of the fertile valleys ; Daughter of the laughing waters ; This fond heart for thee is pining, — This fond heart is yearning for thee, — Yearning for thee as its mate. Thy loved image in it dwelling Eules supreme in every thought, — The mistress of each kind emotion, — 153 // RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. Mistress of each rising joy, — Mistress of each aspiration. In my room so sad and dreary, — In my room so bleak and drear, — Sit I, lonely, making abstracts, — Abstracts of my daily 'issues.' There my sweetness daily wasting, — Wasting on the desert air. Come with me to my own country ; Come with me and be my mate. There old 'Bingingham' shall please thee With his songs of glories past. Songs of how he always used To "do" the vendors of produce. Produce offered in our markets. In our far-off Southland city. There old Dent, — ^the funny fellow. Good old Dent, — the story teller, (Tells them better when he's 'mellow'). Shall regale thy leisure moments With sweet music's softest strain. There with (f)lute so sad and plaintive, — Plaintive as the cooing dove. Shall woo thee for me, — sing to thee, And tell thee of my speechless love." if* *;* ^ tfjC Then this maid so meek and modest. Gently turned her head away ; Turned her soft eyes from his face ; Turned her fairy form around; 154 THE CLEVER QUARTERMASTER. Turned her back upon old Eiddle. Eaised she then her fairy hand, — Eaised her hand with tiny 'kerchief, — Eaised it to her ruby lips, — Eaised it to her eyes so meek, — Gentle eyes, suffused with tears; Ope'd her lips, — and after sneezing. Thus replied: "Go away, you gay deceiver. Gayer than is speckled puppy ; Go away you heartless wretch ! Leave the maiden whose affections You have won, to die alone. Your soft words have waked the passion Slumb'ring in her maiden breast, — The infant passion struggling there. Chattanooga's lonely daughter Will not go to your distant country. Will not believe a word you've told her ; (Let her 'pine'). You've got a girl in Lou'siana." ^ Hi ^ >H Old Eiddle shook his shaggy head. And scratched it, too; was sore perplexed To know by what means she discovered His faith and love already plighted To "the girl he left behind him." He tarried not, — ^but straight he left her; Left her to her thoughts alone; — 155 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. Left her, without another word. And straight way home he toddled; Saying, as he moved along, — Moved along with pace unsteady: "I wonder who the thunder told her ? It must have been that frisky doctor." j» J» •ff •If jy«-i "Cut 'er of, doctor." the bleeding bone. I see the ghastly wound, gap ing, gory; its flabby flaps weeping crimson tears. The thirsty sponge drinks them eagerly; they, are quickly dried, closed, stitched; and a roller ban dage is turned around the stump. The form is transferred to a cool cot beneath the shade of a 169 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. wide-spreading oak, and a nurse sits by to fan him and keep off the flies. He rallies from the sleep of the merciful anes thetic. He slept all through the ordeal. A minute seems not to have elapsed since the first whiff of the chloroform; he felt nothing, knew nothing. He wakes to find his leg gone. He brushes away a tear, and a big lump comes in his throat, as he thinks of Mary, in the little house on the hill ; or of Lucy, may be, — if it be she, — the meek-eyed maiden to whom he is promised ; who sees in the army but one figure, — in the list of wouiided but one name, and it is burned into her very soul as she reads opposite that name in the paper, '"desperately wounded." Then, the long, long days of fever and pus; for in those days, you know, Dan'els, we knew nothing of "germs" and "antiseptics," nor how to prevent suppuration; we believed it necessary to healing. Oh, the suffering, — the days of agony, and the nights of torture, as the wound became dry and hot, ^nd the temperature 'rose. By-and-bye, he is convalescent. He can sit up on the side of his bunk and scrawl a repetition of his oft-told tale of love to her at home; but hope is dead in him. He is of no use in the army now ; he is discharged ; turned loose -on a cold world, maimed and broken in health and spirit, to shift for himself as best he can. He survives the war. He is buffetted about, here and there, living, God knows how, as best he can. 170 THB STORY OF A STUMP. Now he sells lead pencils on the granite steps af the Texas capitol. "Buy a pencil. Doctor ?" "Poor old Confed! Despised old Rebel!" "Yes, my boy, — a dozen of them. Here, give me two dozen; I'm clean out of pencils at home," I say (a pardonable lie, God knows). Neglected, — 171 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. despised, — alone. Had he been on the other side, where his brother was, he would now be drawing a pension from the government. Poor old Confed. Despised old "rebel." They told you a wound would be an honor, — and you a hero. Cruel mockery. Bit ter deception. Your life blood shed, your youth wasted ; all in vain. The "Lost Cause" is a mem ory. So is Lucy. She married -the butcher, who staid at home and got rich. Now you are waiting, — only waiting — the time when you may join your comrades in arms and mis fortune, on the other side. You see already the ¦"bivouac on the shores of eternity"; you hear the ripple of the waves as they dash upon its banks. You hear the bugle call to arms no more ; you hear the "tattoo" and "lights out," — and long for the time when your tired old bones may " softly lie and sweetly sleep, Low in the ground ; when The soul, — God's glorious image, freed from clay, In heaven's eternal spheres shall shine, A star of day." 172 OLD SISTER NICK. OLD SISTER NICK. PIES AND PIETY. WHEN I was stationed at Lauderdale Springs, Miss., in the extreme eastern part of the State, in the piney woods region, where I had charge of a ward in one of the general hospitals, said our Genial Visitor on an other occasion, there was, amongst the refugees, quite a number of whom had fiocked there out of the way of the yankees after Vicksburg fell, the most comical old lady you ever saw. She was gen erally called, by everybody, "Sister Nick," or "Old Sister Nick." She was "a lone widder woman," she used to say, and she had several slaves. Her piety was something awful. It was simply overwhelming. She had a son, an only child, whom she affectionately called "my little Jimmie," who having been slightly wounded onoe, by pure acci dent, no doubt, for he was not of the kind to go where people get hurt, — "not if I can help it," he used to say, — was now on detail service, doing hos pital guard duty. Jimmie was a great big six- footer, strong as an ox, — and had great shocks of fiery red hair, heavy eyebrows, — white eyelashes, and, keeping his mouth open constantly, he had a startled, idiotic appearance; looked more like an astonished hog than anything I ean think of. He 173 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. had freckles on his face the size of a dime, and ^reat warts on his hands that rattled like castinets. "The Lord will purvide." Sister Nick, the pious. "'Oh, Doctor, dont make fun of your friend that way," I said. It's a fact, said the Old Doctor, and he shook 174 OLD SISTER NICK. with good natured mirth at the recollection. But Jimmie was "a good boy," as his mother often declared. "The Lord will purvide," she used to say, as she Ellen, the pie-ist. sat knitting socks for Jimmie, — she was eternally knitting, — and I reckon Jimmie had as many socks as Bud Zuntz had undershirts, and like Bud's shirts, they were, as Euth McEnery Steward says of them, "all Ma-knit." "Ef He will only spare me 175 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. my little Jimmie, I will always bless and sarve Him." Jimmie and I used to go fishing together; good fishing about Lauderdale ; tell you a good one about it some day, if you will remind me. Sister Nick was a little pudgy old lady with small gray watery eyes, a little dab of a nose that looked like it had been stuck on after she was built, as an after thought ; thin brown hair, turning gray, parted in the middle, and wound into a little dab at the back of her head not bigger than a hickory nut ; a watery mouth suggestive of a kind of a juici ness not very appetizing to look at, especially so because of its being always the amber hue of snuff, which she was never without. She wore a faded calico wrapper, — apparently an orphan, — the only skirt she had on, — looked so, anyhow, — run-down slippers, — and she had the general appearance of a bolster with a string tied around it in the middle. "Talking of good eatin'. Sister Partrick," she said one day to Mrs. Patrick, my good mother-in- law, — heaven rest her, — she always pronounced it "Partrick," — "taikin' of good eatin'. Sister Part rick, jest set me down all by myself to a good biled hen, and I'm satisfied." Ellen, her colored slave, was her mainstay and support. She was a famous "pieist," if not so famous for piety, — for Ellen would cuss some times, — and I dont blame her. Ellen made and sold pies to the sick soldiers, — and they had a per- 176 OLD SISTER NICK. feet mania for pies. We forbade the sale of them at the hospitals; they, — her kind, being the most diarrhoea-provoking things imaginable; but the men would have them, and would get them, all the same. Eain or shine, — frost, snow or blizzard, Ellen had to be at every train that came in, eariy or late, to sell pies to the soldiers. "The Lord will purvide," Sister Nick would say. "As long as my little Jimmie is spared to me, and Ellen holds out to make pies for the poor sick soldiers, I hope we wont starve. Sister Partrick," and she would spit out about a pint of snuff juice. "I puts my trust in Him, Sister Partrick," she said often. She was so pious she would cry; her little watery eyes, — always watery, would slop over every time she mentioned the Lord's name; and she was so famous for the quantity and quality of her piety and for Ellen's dyspeptic pies, that the boys used to say she had Ellen to sell pies at the morning trains to encourage "early piety." "Oh, pshaw. Doctor, — that's the very worst pun I ever did hear in my life. I do believe you made up that whole yarn to get off that outrageous pun ; go ahead with your story," said I. And Hudson and Bennett did not crack a smile. Humph, said the Doctor; it's finished. You dont know a good thing when you hear it, — and he gave me and B. and H. a look of ineffable disgust. 177 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. WHEN THE DOGWOODS WERE IN BLOOM. A FISH STORY WITH TRIMMIN'S. LAUDEEDALE was a big hospital post, there being four large hospitals there, built out on the lovely pine-clad hills, and built of rough pine lumber. There were assembled there quite a lot of congenial doctors and others, and of evenings, around the stove in the office of some one of the hospitals they would assemble more or less, and talk. The druggist at the hospital where I was on duty was named Armstead. By his accounts he was a tremendous fisherman. Oh, the trout he had caught, — and the tales he could tell of wonderful exploits with rod and fly, — to say nothing of "wur- rums," as he called them. Well, all winter he was talking of going flshing as soon as the dogwood trees put out; "a sure sign," he would say, that "the flsh are biting." There was a pretty consid erable-size creek running through these hills near the hospitals, — and in the swamps or bottoms, as they were called, were myriads of squirrels, wild ducks, 'possums, 'coons, pigeons and even wild tur keys; and further off, deer. Fine sport I used to have with the gun. Some other time I will tell you of our make-shift for ammunition, if you will re mind me. You must recollect that every Southern 178 WHEN THE DOGWOODS WERE IN BLOOM. port being blockaded, trade and commerce with the outside world was cut off, and manufactured goods of every kind soon played out throughout the South. We were thrown on our own resources. The native cotton was spun and woven, and plain or striped cotton cloth, — "homespun," was the almost universal article of feminine wear. Of course, we could not buy powder and shot. Not a piece of calico was to be seen or had, except, perhaps, in the larger cities. Even home made hats, — home made shoes, the ladies had to come to. And I tell you now, some of those pretty "homespun" dresses, the cotton dyed with the walnut bark or some other in digenous dye, were not to be laughed at. A calf skin would bring a big price, — and even cat skins, if nicely tanned, were in demand. I had some sat isfaction in wearing a vest made of the untanned, — hair-on, pelt of a certain predatory Tom cat that kept up a famine of frying-size chickens on my premises. I remember that I gave $600 for a pair of home tanned cow leather boots; and -the last sugar I had before the break-up cost $80 a pound. But I am away off; I started to tell you fellers a fish story, and promised to tell you how we made shot. "Now, look here. Doctor," said Hudson and Ben nett at once; "we want you to understand, we beg to gently intimate that there is a limit to our cred ulity. Making shot, — ^you know ." But, boys, I'm telling you the gospel truth, said 179 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. the Old Doctor, with a hurt look. Confederate money, based on nothing whatever on this 'earth, nor in heaven, either, as to that, got to be so worth less that it hardly had any value, tho' you could buy anything that was for sale if you had enough of it ; but there was no powder and shot, nor "store- cloze" for sale, I tell you. Why, I'll show you bills I have to this day, — bills that I have kept as heir looms and curiosities, where I paid $10 per pound for butter, for instance^, late in the war; and as early as '63 I saw a soldier draw a month's pay and immediately give it for a dozen apples. I have bills for bacon at $5 per pound, and lard, ditto. In Covington, Ga., in 1863 (I forgot to tell you about it while I was telling you other Covington experi ences), I had occasion to amputate the leg for a lad in the country, the son of a wealthy flour mill man. He asked my bill, and I told him that in peace times it would be $50. A calculation based on that, at the then rate of discount, would make it $2500 in Confederate money; but that I would be glad if he would let me have its equivalent in bacon. I have the bill for that bacon today ; it was $5 a pound. But, my stars, — I'll never get to the fish story at this rate, said the Old Doctor: I'm worse at straggling than I was in the ranks. To resume where I broke off, tho' I've got another pretty good one about Confederate prices if you will just say "Meridian" some day. 180 WHEN THE DOGWOODS WERE IN BLOOM. One day Armstead said : "Doctor, spring is here; the dogwoods are in bloom, — the fish are biting, sure." "Eeckon they are," said I. "Wish I could get off one day to try 'em," said he. "I think I'll try them tomorrow," said I. "Oh,— the trout, — the trout I used to catch," said he. "Why, Doctor ." "Oh, dry up, Armstead; you've been telling me trout yarns all winter. I'll show you something tomorrow," I said ; and Armstead drew a deep sigh at the recollection, I reckon, of the flsh he didn't "used to catch." There is a big mill pond up the creek some dis tance above the hospitals, and I was sure there were good large trout in it. In fact, I had been told so by the owner of the mill. So, Jimmie Nick, as we called him (Nichols was his name, really), and I went up there next day. Below the mill there was a small but deep hole, into which the water fell from the "sheet" or shed, which laid on a level with the surface. We had no bait but red worms, — first rate perch bait, — but we fished diligently up the creek all the way to this hole under the mill, with out getting a nibble. While standing there we noticed a bream (a black, striped perch, the size of your hand; very plentiful about Jackson where Jimmie and I were raised, and their favorite bait is crickets, — those little black- winged crickets; you know what crick- 181 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. ets are, surely?) The bream had "shot" the little fall, and was floundering on the planks on which there was not an inch of water. I knew a bream was a bream, at Lauderdale as at Jackson, and we knew they would bite at crick ets. So, Jimmie and I dropped our poles, and went out into a corn fleld near by, and caught us a lot of crickets, and returning, rigged our lines for bream. To catch bream you have to be very careful of your tackle. They are a wary flsh, easily scared away. They wont bite if they see a line, so you have to have a line that is very slim, a small hook, fastened to a snood, or piece of "cat-gut," it is called, — ^but it is not cat-gut. It is invisible in water, and that is the secret of success in flshing for them. Eemember that; thereby hangs a tale. In a little while Jimmie and I had rigged our lines, and soon had caught a long string of beauti ful bream. Then we thought we'd try the trout. We call them trout in Mississippi, but it is the black bass as we see him in Texas, and they attain a weight from six to eight pounds; the usual size is from one to three pounds; three pounds is a large one in that section. We got a boat from the mill man, — got a net also, and going on the pond above the mill, we soon had a lot of flne minnows or "roaches" for bait; and the best luck you ever did see we had that day. I got a three-pounder, a shonuff big fellow, and a lot 182 WHEN THE DOGWOODS WERE IN BLOOM. of smaller ones, none under a pound and a half. We were proud. "Jimmie," I said, "we'll make Armstead go off and grieve, wont we? We'll make him bust wide open with envy, — for he's a fisherman, he is." Eeturning to the hospital I walked proudly into the drug room where Armstead was putting up pre scriptions behind the counter, with my hand behind me, and without a word I just flopped my big trout upon the counter right under his nose, the fish still alive and kicking. Oh, he was a beauty. Armstead's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He sprang back in surprise, and exclaimed : "Gee whillikens! — what a — b — i — g sii — ^ver side !" I was too disgusted for utterance. I just walked out without a word. The fool didn't know a trout when he saw it, after all his blowing and bragging. Silver-sides are those little roaches, — look like sar dines,— ^that we use as bait, to catch trout with. ^ ^ Sji 4- Next day every man, woman and child, negro and dog in Lauderdale was out there at that hole flshing. Our strings of bream and trout had set the village wild. Every vehicle and "animule" available was pressed into service, and such an exo dus to Moore's mill you never saw. The comman dant of the post. Colonel Nuckles (one leg off), and his wife were there; Captain Catlin, the provost marshal (crippled, of course, or he wouldn't have 183 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. been on post duty, — such was the exigency of the service; every man able to bear arms had to be at the front, I tell you). He was there with his wife; Surgeon Kennedy, the post surgeon and his wife; oh, everybody and his wife and sister and sweet heart was there. "Sister Nick?" Yes, she was there, too, of course; and all the young ladies, — and that being a refugee town there were lots of them; pretty, too. Well, as Eeel Kerr used to say, — they chunked the fish with buckshot. They had every imaginable kind of rig; — fish poles, corn stalks, limbs of trees, for rods ; fish lines, cotton twine, spool thread, car penter's chalk line, and even clothes lines for lines ; and corks, and even quinine bottle stoppers for floats ; and buckshot, nut screws, nails, for sinkers ; liver, raw beef, grub worms, toads, — everything for bait but the right kind, — enough to scare every flsh out of the creek. Jimmie and I couldn't get off to go with the caravan, but we told them where to fish, — below the mill ; that 'twa'nt no use wasting time anywhere else; that at that season bream were running up stream to spawn, and not being able to get past the mill, — why, of course, that hole was full of them. About ten o'clock Jimmie and I went out. The party had surrounded the hole, literally. They were sitting in almost elbow touch all around the hole, and poles and lines innumerable were dang ling over the water, — ^but, — na-a-rry a fish. 184 WHEN THE DOGWOODS WERE IN BLOOM. "Why, what's the matter. Colonel? I thought you'd have the frying pans going by the time we got here ; you said you would, and wouldn't leave a fish in the creek for me and Jimmie to catch if we didn't hurry up ?" said I. "Ah, Doctor, you fooled us. Aint no fish in this hole, — else you caught 'em all yesterday," said the colonel, unmindful of the paradox. Jimmie and I soon got our rigs ready, and were in the act of putting a cricket on the hooks when some one exclaimed excitedly : "The Colonel's got a bite !" "Pull him out. Colonel !" "Give him line. Colonel!" "Dont let him get the slack on you. Colonel !" "Play him awhile. Colonel !" was the advice given the colonel all at once. Every one dropped his pole and gathered around the colonel to see the sport ; the colonel had been doing some bragging as well as Armstead, and had the reputation of being a tremendous fisherman. There was great excite ment.' The colonel was cool and collected, and he "let him play, — that is, — he didn't pull "him" out right away ; that, he said, wasn't "science." When he thought it would he "science" to pull him out, he said: "Now, then; watch me land him. Get the net ready, quick, and be careful, — for he's a whopper !" And bracing himself, he gave a pull, — and out 185 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. came a miserable little skillipot terrapin about as big as your fist. Jimmie and I put on our crickets, and in a few minits had bream enough to start the frying pan. After dinner we cleared away a place on the grass, and such a "swing corners," and such sparking and flirting we did have, to be sure ; while old Dan, the colonel's colored carriage driver, played his fiddle with uncommon unction. MT sr sr s*" sir xr Jf JS JS JU JU CONFEDERATE STATES SHOT FAC TORY (LIMITED-VERY). OH, YES, said the Doctor, — so I did; I prom ised to tell you how we got ammunition for shooting squirrels, etc. We would get a lot of minnie balls, or cartridges, if we just had to have it, — which was generally the case, the squirrels were so bad that it was danger ous to be without powder and shot; I knew one to bite a feller once, who was out of powder and shot. It was, by some, thought to be sinful to so waste cartridges, — they were to kill yankees, you know. So, loose balls or bullets, that was different, were the main source of supply. One would take a piece of the native pine, a piece 186 CONFEDERATE STATES SHOT FACTORY. of plank, about four inches wide and sixteen inches long, — but it was not necessary to be exact in these measurements, — "any old" piece of pine would do, — and cut grooves in it lengthwise, some five or six grooves. Then, tilting this plank against the inside of a vessel of water so as to make an inclined plane, the lead was placed on the upper end of the wood, and fire set to the wood. A piece of "fat" pine was selected; — that is, a piece rich in turpentine, as it would burn readily. Why, sirs, "fat light'ood" (lightwood), as it is generally ca,lled in the South, waa the main source or resource, rather, for light, after " store" candles gave out, and especially far in the interior. True, many families made "tallow candles," but many persons also used lightwood; in fact, some old ladies I knew, said they "pre ferred" it when they couldn't get the tallow to make "dips," as they were called. The bullets would melt gradually, and the molten lead would run down the grooves and drop in the water in the kettle. Well, now, they were not round, — that's a fact; but they were more or less, — generally less, — round, and as the Johnny Eeb, who was laughed at for riding a calf on the march, said, it beat walkin', — so tbese fragments of lead beat no shot at all; and by rolling them under a flat iron we managed to make pretty good shot of them; good enough to kill a turkey with, even. By-the-bye, Dan'els, remind me to tell you about one I did kill at Lauderdale ; it's a good one, as Dr. 187 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. Billy Yandell, the State Quarantine Officer at El Paso, Texas, will testify; he helped eat it. No, — we didn't get a patent on the process of making shot. We gave the public the beneflt of the invention, and the process came into general use wherever the blessing of fat light'ood was known. JS JS •ff Iff •ff JS JS DR. YANDELL AND THE TURKEY. TELL you about the turkey, now? said the Doctor. After a short breathing spell he said : As well now as any other time. All right. Baek of Dr. Yandell's hospital, — that was Dr. Henry Yandell of Yazoo county, Mississippi, a cousin of Dr. Bill Yandell, who, by-the-bye, was only a big "kid" at that time, an undergraduate in medicine, and was a sorter hospital steward or Bomething, at his cousin's hospital, — there was a swamp, of which I told you, through which the creek runs, and where there was such good hunting. One afternoon I took my gun, and passing through Yandell's yard, one of the men said : "Doc, I seen turkeys down by the bridge yis- tiddy." 188 DR. YANDELL AND THE TURKEY. "I'll go look for them," said I. "Thanks." I hadn't gotten more than a mile from the hos pital before I heard a turkey, "put" — "put." The woods were very thick. Looldng cautiously thro' the underbrush I saw two turkeys on the ground, with their necks stretched, looking scared, and as if about to fly. Trembling with excitement (I had what is known amongst hunters as a "mild buck- ager," — ague), I let drive with one barrel and knocked over one of the turkeys, — the other ohe running off yelping. I ran to my turkey, terribly excited and all over of a tremble. The turkey was fluttering on the ground, and I caught it, and holding it up, dis covered, — oh, holy horrors ! — that one wing was clipped! The truth flashed on me in an instant. They were Dr. Yandell's turkeys, strayed off from the hospital. I could understand, now, why the other fellow didn't fly, but ran off, yelpin', — some thing no well bred wild turkey was ever known to do. I had no idea of throwing it away. I was ashamed to take it to the hospital and own up like a little man. No Sir — ree! In fact, I was turkey hungry, and wanted the meat. Turkey was turkey in those days. So, I just plucked out the cut quills and buried them. The head of a "tame" turkey is much redder, — of lighter color than that of a wild turkey. This one, fortunately for me, was a black one, and looked very much like a wild turkey. I 189 RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL SURGEON. took my knife out of my pocket, and cut gashes on the head, — on the "wattles," as the children call the nodulated growths on a turkey's head, — to let out some of the blood, so as to make it look sorter blue, — like a wild turkey's head, you know. I picked her up by the head, squeezing it so as to aid the blue-ing process, and marched boldly through Dr. Yandell's hospital yard. "Hello !" said the doctor and young Yandell