Early in March, 1864, my regiment went home from Vicksburg on veteran furlough, and I accompanied it. Every thing passed off pleasantly on our homeward trip, save that, now and then, it became difficult for a man like myself, without shoulder-straps, to get admitted to the table for meals. We were embarked on board the steamer Continental. She had on board, besides our own, a New York regiment, going home from New Orleans. I was a stranger to them, and was frequently halted by them when they were on guard. This I might have prevented by procuring an order, or pass, entitling me to the full privilege of the boat; but I chose to keep my real character disguised, except to such as personally knew me.
On one occasion, after having imbibed rather freely at the bar—nothing unusual for some soldiers on veteran furlough to do—I sat down to dinner without having procured a ticket, and placed a five-dollar bill by the side of my plate for the clerk of the boat to take his pay from. The Captain's son came round for tickets, in place of the clerk, and, seeing my bill lying there, and supposing that I was in too happy a frame of mind to take notice of so slight a mistake, picked it up and walked off.
That aroused my anger—or rather my liquor—and I called out, "Stop! you d—d thieving son of a b—h! Bring back that money." Finding that he was caught in the act, he came back and gave me the change. While he was making the change, I gave him a regular cursing. The chaplain of the New York regiment was sitting at the table opposite to me. The loud talking brought crowds of officers and others to see what was up, and with them the boy's father, who took me to task for such disrespect to his boat in presence of the chaplain.
"Chaplain, h—l!" said I. "Do you think that I would sit here and see your son steal my money without saying any thing? He deserves something worse than curses. He ought to have his neck stretched. As for chaplains, they are no better than other folks. Some will steal, or hire soldiers to do it for them. We had a chaplain in our regiment, who said to me once, 'Bunker, can't you bring me in a good horse?' 'Yes, I can bring you in a good horse.' 'Well, I wish you would. I can't pay you the full value of the horse, but I'll pay you for your trouble.' 'Oh, never mind the trouble, chaplain,' said I; 'you preach the boys a good sermon some Sunday morning, and I'll steal you a horse!'"
When I had finished my reply, the Captain disappeared in one direction and the chaplain in another, in a midst of a roar of laughter from those gathered around. I heard no more from the Captain about disgracing his boat in the presence of chaplains.
At Memphis, we changed from the steamer Continental to a Memphis and Cincinnati packet. General Breman took passage with us as far as Cairo, Ill., and, being the senior officer in rank on board, was in command of the troops. It is customary, when troops are on board transports, to have a guard and an officer of the day, whose duty it is to preserve order, subject to the instructions of the commanding officer.
The next morning after we left Memphis, Captain Ayres, of the 20th Ohio Infantry, was the officer of the day. On reporting to General Breman for instructions, he was informed that there was a "suspicious character" on board. He pointed me out to the Captain, and told him that I came on board at Memphis, and that, in all probability, I was either a rebel spy or an incendiary, watching an opportunity to burn up the boat. He instructed the Captain to watch me, and if my actions confirmed his suspicions, to arrest me and place me under guard. The Captain was personally acquainted with me, but kept the fact to himself. As soon as an opportunity offered, the Captain told me what the General had said; so I resolved to see how he would act when he found out who I was. Walking back to the after-cabin, I found General Force and General Breman engaged in reading. Said I to the latter, saluting him, "General Breman, you don't know me, do you?"
"Not that I know of."
"You don't remember of having me arrested in Tennessee as a rebel spy? I am a 'suspicious character;' you had better watch me."
"That's Mr. Ruggles, General," said General Force; "he's a useful man. He's a valuable scout."