"Captain," says Brock, "I have only a half-barrel of apples left, and they will spoil if you don't let me sell them."
"Very well," replied the captain. "But you must promise, hereafter to attend to duty."
Brock promised and escaped punishment, but that half-barrel of apples lasted a long time. It appeared he had another supply by means of which he kept the first barrel from being exhausted.
At Folly Island, for the first time, men were detailed in each company to wash the clothing of the men and all were of a uniform cleanliness, and the wash-squad did their work well.
The regimental organization was again complete. In November a detachment of substitutes and drafted men reached the regiment; of those Co. G received five men.
And there came also from Elmira a new adjutant for the 157th. Chas. J. Baldwin was an inexperienced soldier. He had been acting as Col. Brown's adjutant at Elmira and was promoted on personal grounds. There was an unconfirmed report that he was a drafted man. Had he been so, or had Baldwin been a veteran of many battles, Col. Brown's thus slighting his regiment, would have been no less unfair. Baldwin was a good man, made a fine adjutant. Perhaps he was innocent of an intent to appropriate the position which was clearly due one of those men who had seen so much hard service.
Col. Brown detailed Joseph Heenye to be his personal waiter. Then he promoted him to sergeant-major of the regiment. While Joe Heenye was enjoying the comforts and privileges of exemption from drill, from camp duty and from picket, the other enlisted men were out in the sleet and the snow and the mud. While Joe slept in a warm bed every night, his comrades slept out in the dismal picket huts. No fault of Joe's. But when he was promoted adjutant over the heads of many worthy lieutenants, Col. Brown added greatly to the offense. Joe was a gentleman. He was killed at Gettysburg.
Col. Brown from a settled policy, promoted officers and assigned them to other companies than those in which they had enlisted. Such a scheme was an exhibition of his arbitrary power and in some instances the effect was demoralizing. When Lieut. Gates was transferred to Co. K, the boys of his own company wondered and Co. K were offended. By and by, Lieut. Pierce was assigned from Co. K to Co. G, and the scale was righted. And when Bob Grant was made first lieutenant of Co. G, his own company, Co. I, were inconsolable and the philosophical Co. G, were correspondingly pleased.
That system of crossing-the-breed was peculiar to Col. Brown. Had the good people of Madison discovered such propensity in time, undoubtedly they would have suggested that Prof. Brown seek a colonelcy in some other county. But the regiment is still on Folly Island.
Such a pity so good a regiment should have seen so much trifling. And even yet were they to steam up rivers, to march, to camp, to wade swamps, to fight and hang-on, for many months to come and after it all, not one enterprise in which they were engaged—barring the siege of Charleston—in that Department, has been deemed worthy of place in standard history. The stubs of Gen. Grant's cigars, the white vests of Gen. Sherman and the peculiar cast of Gen. Butler's eye, all are immortal. Poor Co. G, you are making history and your valiant deeds shall be chronicled. And your children may know, that while brave and true men were required to perform these deeds, even the weakest of men may record them. Such is fate.