How Private George W. Peck Put Down the Rebellion

by George W. Peck

  CHAPTER II.

  I Am Rudely Awakened from Dreams of Home--I Go on Picket-- The Foe Advances--A Desperate Conflict--The Union-- Confederate Breakfast on the Alabama Race-Track--A Friendly Partin

  The careful readers of this history have no doubt been worried about themanner in which the first chapter closed, leaving me hanging to a limbof a tree, like Absalom weeping for her children, my horse having goneout from under me. But I have not been hanging there all this time. Thesoldiers took me down, and caught my horse, and the regiment dismountedand a council of war was held. I suppose it was a council of war, as Inoticed the officers were all in a group under a tree, with a candle,examining a map, and drinking out of a canteen. I had read of councilsof war, but I had never seen one, and so I walked over to the crowdof officers and asked the colonel if there was anything particular thematter. I never saw a crowd of men who seemed so astonished as thoseofficers were, and suddenly I felt myself going away from where theywere consulting, with somebody's strong hand on my collar, and anunmistakable cavalry boot, with a man in it, in the vicinity of mypantaloons. I do not know to this day, which officer it was that kickedme, but I went away and sat under a tree in the dark, so hungry that Iwas near dead, and I wished I _was_ dead. I guess the officers wishedthat I was, too. The soldiers tried to console me by telling me I wastoo fresh, but I couldn't see why a private soldier, right from home,who knew all about the public sentiment at the north in regard to theway the war was conducted, should not have a voice in the consultationsof officers. I had written many editorials before I left home,criticising the manner in which many generals had handled theircommands, and pointed out to my readers how defeat could have beenturned into victory, if the generals had done as I would have done intheir places. It seemed to me the officers of my regiment were taking asuicidal course in barring me out of their consultations. A soldier hadtold me that we were lost in the woods, and as I had studied geographywhen at school, and was well posted about Alabama, it seemed as though alittle advice from me would be worth a good deal. But I concluded to letthem stay lost forever before I would volunteer any information. It wascrawling along towards midnight, of my first day in the army, and Ihad eaten nothing since morning. As I sat there under the tree I fellasleep, and was dreaming of home, and warm biscuit, with honey, and afeather bed, when I was rudely awakened by a corporal who told me tomount. I asked him what for, and told him that I didn t want to ride anymore that night. What I wanted was to be let alone, to sleep. He said toget on the horse too quick, and I found there was no use arguing with acommon corporal, so the boys hoisted me on to the horse, and about nineof us started off through the woods in the moonlight, looking for a mainroad. The corporal was kind enough to say that as soon as we found aroad we would put out a picket, and send a courier back to the regimentto inform the colonel that we had got out of the woods, and the rest ofus would lay down and sleep till morning. I don't think I was ever soanxious to see a road in all my life, because I _did_ want to lay downand sleep, and die. O, if I could have telegraphed home, how I wouldhave warned the youth of the land to beware of the allurements held outby recruiting officers, and to let war alone. In an hour or so we cameto a clearing, and presently to a road, and we stopped. The corporaldetailed me to go up the road a short distance and stand picket on myhorse. That was not what I had expected of the corporal. I used to knowhim before the war when he worked in a paint shop in a wagon factory,and I had always treated him well, and it seemed as though he oughtto favor me by letting somebody else go on picket. I told him that theother boys were more accustomed to such work than I was, and that Iwould resign in their favor, because what I wanted was rest, but hesaid I would have to go, and he called me "Camp and Garrison Equipage,"because I carried so much luggage on my horse, a name that held tome for months. I found that there was no use kicking against going onpicket duty that night, though I tried to argue with the corporal thatit would be just as well to all lay down and sleep till morning, andput out a picket when it got light enough to see. I was willing to workduring the day time for the government, but it seemed as though it wasrushing things a little to make a man work day and night for thirteendollars a month. So the corporal went out on the road with me abouta quarter of a mile, and placed me in position and gave me myinstructions. The instructions were to keep a sharp lookout up and downthe road for Confederate cavalry, and if I saw anybody approaching tosing out "halt!" and if the party did not halt to shoot him, and thencall for the corporal of the guard, who would come out to see what wasthe matter. I asked him what I should do if anybody came along and shotme, and he said that would be all right, that the boys would come outand bury me. He said I must keep awake, for if I got to sleep on my postI would be court-martialed and shot, and then he rode away and leftme alone, on a horse that kept whinnying, and calling the attention ofpossible Confederates to my position.

  I do not think any reader of these papers will envy me the position Iwas in at that time. If I remained awake, I was liable to be killed bythe enemy, and if I fell asleep on my post I would be shot anyway.And if I was not killed, it was probable I would be a murderer beforemorning. Hunger was gnawing at my stomach, and the horse was gnawingat my legs, and I was gnawing at a hard tack which I had found in thesaddle-bag. Every little while I would hear a noise, and my hair wouldraise my hat up, and it would seem to me as though the next minute avolley would be fired at me, and I shrunk down between the piles ofbaggage on my saddle to be protected from bullets. Suddenly the mooncame out from behind a cloud and around a turn in the road a solitaryhorseman might have been seen coming towards me. I never have seen ahorse that looked as high as that horse did. He seemed at least eighteenfeet high, and the man on him was certainly twelve feet high. My heartpounded against a tin canteen that I had strung around my shoulder, soI could hear the beating perfectly plain. The man was approaching, and Iwas trying to think whether I had been instructed to shoot and then callfor the corporal of the guard, or call for the corporal and then ask himto halt. I knew there was a halt in my instructions, and wondered ifit would not conciliate the enemy to a certain extent if I would say"Please Halt." The fact was, I didn t want to have any fuss. If I couldhave backed my horse up into the woods, and let the man go by, it seemedas though it would save precipitating a conflict. It is probable thatno military man was ever in so tight a place as I was that minute. Theenemy was advancing, and I wondered if, when he got near enough, I couldsay "halt," in a commanding tone of voice. I knew enough, then, to feelthat to ask the stranger to halt in a trembling and husky voice wouldgive the whole thing away, that I was a recruit and a coward. Ye gods,how I suffered! I wondered if I could hit a man with a bullet. Beforethe war I was quite a good shot with a shotgun, shooting into flocks ofpigeons and ducks, and I thought what a good idea it would be if I couldget that approaching rebel into a flock. The idea seemed so ridiculousthat I laughed right out loud. It was not a hearty, happy laugh, but itwas a laugh all the same, and I was proud that I could laugh in the faceof danger, when I might be a corpse any minute. The man on the horsestopped. Whether he heard me laugh it is impossible to say, but hestopped. That relieved me a great deal. As he had stopped it wasunnecessary for me to invite him to halt. He was welcome to stay thereif he wanted to. I argued that it was not my place to go howling aroundthe Southern Confederacy, ordering people to halt, when they had alreadyhalted. If he would let me alone and stay where he was, what sense wasthere in picking a quarrel with him?

  Why should I want to shoot a total stranger, who might have a familyat home, somewhere in the South, who would mourn for him. He might bea dead shot, as many Southern gentlemen were, and if I went to advisinghim about halting, it would, very likely cause his hot Southern blood toboil, and he would say he had just as much right to that road as I had.If it come right down to the justice of the thing, I should have toadmit that Alabama was not my state. Wisconsin was my home, and if Iwas up there, and a man should trespass on my property, it would bereasonable enough for me
to ask him to go away from there, and enforcemy request by calling a constable and having him put off the premises.But how did I know but he owned property there, and was a tax-payer. Ihad it all figured out that I was right in not disturbing that rebel,and I knew that I could argue with my colonel for a week, if necessary,on the law points in the case, and the courtesy that I deemed properbetween gentlemen, if any complaint was made for not doing my duty. But,lordy, how I _did_ sweat while I was deciding to let him alone if hewould let me alone. The war might have been going on now, and that rebeland myself might have been standing there today, looking at each other,if it hadn't been for the action of the fool horse that I rode. Myhorse had been evidently asleep for some time, but suddenly he woke up,pricked up his ears, and began to prance, and jump sideways like a racehorse that is on the track, and wants to run. The horse reared up andplunged, and kept working up nearer to my Southern friend, and I triedto hold him, and keep him still, but suddenly he got the best of me andstarted towards the other man and horse, and the other horse started, asthough some one had said "go".{*}

  * [Before I get any further on this history of the war, it is necessary to explain. The facts proved to be that my regiment had got lost in the woods, and the scouting party, under the corporal, who had been sent out to find a road, had come upon the three-quarter stretch of an old private race track on a deserted southern plantation, instead of a main road, and I had been placed on picket near the last turn before striking the quarter stretch. A small party of Confederates, who had been out on a scout, and got lost, had come on the track further down, near the judges' stand, and they had put a man, on picket up near where I was, supposing they had struck the road, and intending to wait until morning so as to find out where they were. My horse was an old race horse, and as soon as he saw the other horse, he was in for a race and the other horse was willing. This will show the situation as well as though I had a race track engraved, showing the positions of the two armies. The Confederates, except the man on picket, were asleep beside the track near the quarter stretch, and our fellows, except myself, were asleep over by the three-quarter pole.]

  I do not suppose any man on this earth, or any other earth, ever triedto stop a fool horse quite as hard as I did that one. I pulled until myarms ached, but he went for all that was out, and the horse ahead ofme was buckling in as fast as he could. I could not help wondering whatwould happen if I should overtake that Southern man. I was gaining onhim, when suddenly eight or nine men who were sleeping beside the road,got up and began to shoot at us. They were the friends of the rebel, whobelieved that the whole Union army was making a charge on them. We gotby the shooters alive, and then, as we passed the rickety old judge'sstand, I realized that we were on a race track, and for a moment Iforgot that I was a soldier, and only thought of myself as a rider ofa race horse, and I gave the horse his head, and kicked him, and yelledlike a Comanche Indian, and I had the satisfaction of seeing my horsego by the rebel, and I yelled some more. I got a glimpse of my rebel's,face as I went by him, and he didn't look much more like a fighting manthan I did, but he was, for as soon as I had got ahead of him he drewa revolver and began firing at me on the run. I thought that was a meantrick, and spoke to him about it afterwards, but he said he only wantedme to stop so he could get acquainted with me.

  On went the two night riders 039]

  Well, I never could find any bullets in any of the clothes strapped onthe back of my saddle, but it _did_ seem to me as though every bulletfrom his revolver hit very near my vital parts. But a new dangerpresented itself. We were rapidly approaching the corporal and his men,with whose command I belonged, and they would wake up and think thewhole Confederate army was charging them, and if I was not killed by theconfounded rebel behind me, I should probably be shot all to pieces byour own men. As we passed our men they fired a few sleepy shots towardsus, and took to the woods. On went the two night riders, and when therebel had exhausted his revolver he began to urge his horse, and passedme, and I drew my revolver and began to fire at him. As we passed thejudge's stand the second time a couple of shots from quite a distance inthe woods showed that his rebel friends had taken alarm at the frequentcharges of cavalry, and had skipped to the woods and were getting awayas fast as possible. We went around the track once more, and when nearthe judge's stand I was right behind him, and his horse fell down andmy horse stumbled over him, and I guess we were both stunned. Finally Icrawled out from under my horse, and the rebel was trying to raise up,when I said, "What in thunder you want to chase a man all around theSouthern Confederacy for, on a dark night, trying to shoot him?" He askedme to help him up, which I did, when he said, "Who commenced this herechasing? If you had kept whar you was, I wouldn't a had no truck withyou." Then I said, "You are my prisoner," and he said, "No, you are myprisoner." I told him I was no hand to argue, but it seemed to me it wasabout a stand off, as to which was 'tother's prisoner. I told him thatwas my first day's service as a soldier, and I was not posted as to thecustoms of civilized warfare, but I was willing to wait till daylight,leaving matters just as they were, each of us on the defensive, givingup none of our rights, and after daylight we would play a game ofseven-up to see which was the prisoner. That seemed fair to him, and heaccepted the situation, remarking that he had only been conscripted afew days and didn't know any more about war than a cow. He said he wasa newspaper man from Georgia, and had been taken right from the case inhis office before his paper could be got out. I told him I was only afew days out of a country printing office my-self, the sheriff havingclosed out my business on an old paper bill. A bond of sympathy wasinaugurated at once between us, and when he limped along the track tothe fence, and found that his ankle was hurt by the fall, I brought abottle of horse liniment out of my saddle-bags, and a rag, and boundsome liniment on his ankle. He said he had never seen a Yankee soldierbefore, and he was glad he had met me. I told him he was the first rebelI had ever met, and I hoped he would be the last, until the war wasover. By this time our horses had gone to nibbling grass, as thoughthere were no such thing as war. We could hear occasional bugle callsoff in the woods in two directions, and knew that our respectivecommands had gone off and got lost again, so we concluded to camp theretill morning. After the excitement was over I began to get hungry, and Iasked him if he had anything to eat. He said he had some corn bread andbacon, and he could get some sweet potatoes over in a field. So I builta fire there on the track, and he hobbled off after potatoes. Just aboutdaylight breakfast was served, consisting of coffee, which I carriedin a sack, made in a pot he carried, bacon fried in a half of a tincanteen, sweet potatoes roasted in the ashes, and Confederate cornbread, warmed by holding it over the fire on a sharp stick. My friend,the rebel, sat on my saddle, which I had removed from my horse, after hehad promised me on his honor to help me to put it on when it was time tomount. He knew how to put on saddles, and I didn t, and as his anklewas lame I gave him the best seat, he being my guest, that is, he wasmy guest if I beat him in the coming game of seven-up, which we were toplay to see if he was my prisoner, or I was his. It being daylight, Icould see him, and study his character, and honestly he was a mightyfine-looking fellow. As we eat our early breakfast I began to thinkthat the recruiting officer was more than half right about war being apicnic. He talked about the newspaper business in the South, and beforebreakfast was over we had formed a partnership to publish a paper atMontgomery, Ala., after the war should be over. I have eaten a greatmany first-class meals in my time, have feasted at Delmonico's, andlived at the best hotels in the land, besides partaking pretty fair foodcamping out, where an appetite was worked up by exercise and sporting,but in all my life I have never had anything taste as good as thatcombination Union-Confederate breakfast on the Alabama race track,beside the judges stand. After the last potato peeling, and the lastcrumb of corn bread had been "sopped" in the bacon gravy and eaten, wewhittled some tobacco off a plug, filled our pipes and leaned up againstth
e fence and smoked the most enjoyable smoke that ever was smoked.After smoking in silence a few minutes my rebel friend said, as he blewthe smoke from his handsome mouth, "War is not so unpleasant, afterall." Then we fell to talking about the manner in which the differentgenerals on each side had conducted things. He went on to show that ifLee had taken his advice, the Yankees would then be on the run for theNorth, and I showed him, by a few well-chosen remarks that if Icould have been close to Grant, and given him some pointers, that theConfederates would be hunting their holes. We were both convinced thatit was a great mistake that we were nothing but private soldiers, butfelt that it would not be long before we were called to occupy highplaces. It seemed to stand to reason that true merit would find itsreward. Then he knocked the ashes out of his pipe and said if I had apack of cards we would go up in the judges stand and play seven-upto see whether I was his prisoner, or he was mine. I wanted to take aprisoner back to the regiment, at I thought it would make me solid withthe colonel, and I played a strong game of seven-up, but before we gotstarted to playing he suggested that we call it a stand-off, and agreethat neither of us should be a prisoner, but that when we got ready topart each should go hunt up his own command, and tell the biggest lie wecould think of as to the fight we had had. That was right into my hand,and I agreed, and then my friend suggested that we play poker for money.I consented and he put up Confederate money, against my greenbacks, tento one. We played about an hour, and at the close he had won the balanceof my bounty, except what I had given to the chaplain for safe keeping,and a pair of pants, and a blouse, and a flannel shirt, and a pair ofshoes, which I had on my saddle. I was rather glad to get rid of someof my extra baggage, and when he put on the clothes he had won from me,blessed if I wasn t rather proud of him. A man could wear any kind ofclothes in the Confederate army, and my rebel looked real comfortable inmy clothes, and I felt that it was a real kind act to allow him to wina blue suit that I did not need. If the men of both the armies, and thepeople of both sections of the distracted country could have seen us twosoldiers together, there in the judges stand, peacefully playing poker,while the battles were raging in the East and in the West, that wouldhave felt that an era of good feeling was about to dawn on the country.After we had played enough poker, and I had lost everything I had thatwas loose, I suggested that he sing a song, so he sung the "Bonnie BlueFlag." I did not think it was right for him to work in a rebel song onme, but it did sound splendid, and I forgot that there was any war, inlistening to the rich voice of my new friend. When he got through heasked me to sing something. I never _could_ sing, anyway. My folks hadalways told me that my voice sounded like a corn sheller, but he urgedme at his own peril, and I sung, or tried to, "We'll Hang Jeff Davisto a Sour Apple Tree." I had no designs on Mr. Davis, honestly I hadn't,and it was the farthest thing from my thoughts to hurt the feelings ofthat young man, but before I had finished the first verse he took hishandkerchief out and placed it to his eyes. I stopped and apologized,but he said not to mind him, as he was better now. He told me,afterwards, in the strictest confidence, that my singing was the worsthe ever heard, and gave it as his opinion that if Jeff Davis could hearme sing he would be willing, even anxious, to be hung. If I had beensensitive about my musical talents, probably there would have been hardfeelings, and possibly bloodshed, right there, but I told him I alwaysknew I couldn't sing, and he said that I was in luck. Well, we fooledaround there till about ten o'clock in the morning, and decided that wewould part, and each seek our respective commands, so I put some morehorse liniment on his sprained ankle, and he saddled my horse for me,and after expressions of mutual pleasure at meeting each other, andpromises that after the war we would seek each other out, we mounted,he gave three cheers for the Yanks, and I gave three cheers for theJohnnies, he divided his plug of tobacco with me, and I gave him thebottle of horse liniment, he turned his horse towards the direction hisgray coats had taken the night before, while I turned my horse towardsthe hole in the woods our fellows had made, and we left the race trackwhere we had fought so gamely, eat so heartily, and played poker sodisastrously, to me. As we were each about going into the woods, halfa mile apart, he waved his handkerchief at me, and I waved mine at him,and we plunged into the forest.

  After riding for an hour or so, alone in the woods, thinking up a goodlie to tell about where I had been, and what I had been doing, I heardhorses neighing, and presently I came upon my regiment, just startingout to hunt me up. The colonel looked at me and said, "Kill the fatprodigal, the calf has got back."