"But, Bill," inquired a lawyer in the crowd, "did not the Colonel offer to prove that the Regiment was amply supplied with clothing, and that the order was unreasonable, and that it was not therefore a lawful order, as the law is supposed to be founded upon reason?"
"Oh, yes, both did; but the Lieutenant-Colonel was told by the President, that if General Burnside were to order the President to make a requisition in dog-days for old Spartan metal helmets for his Regiment, he would make the requisition.
"Said the Colonel, 'the President of the United States is by the Regulations empowered to prescribe the uniform.'
"'That,' said the President, 'General Burnside must judge of. I must execute the order, however unreasonable it may seem, first, and question it afterwards.'
"'Suppose the General would order you to black his boots; or,' said the Colonel, thinking that a little too strongly put; 'suppose that you were second in command of a battery lying near a peaceful and loyal town, and your superior, drunk or otherwise, would order you to shell it, would you obey the order, and question it after having murdered half
the women and children of the place?' To which questions, however, the Court gave the go-by, remarking simply, that they did not suppose that the Colonel had any criminal intentions in disobeying the order. So, really, it is narrowed down to the disobedience of, to say the least, a most uncalled for order."
"And faithful, well intentioned officers are, for what is at most but an honest blunder, treated like felons," said one.
"From their lively and confident manner," said Bill, "I believe that they have assurances from Washington that all will be right. There is no telling how long the Lieutenant-Colonel will last under this confinement, however. He has failed greatly, and although so weak as to be unable to walk alone, the General insists upon the guards being upon either side whenever he has occasion to leave the tent. Even the sinks were dug at over one hundred yards distance from the Sibley. And the tent itself is located in such a manner that old Pigey can at all times have his vengeance gratified by a full view of it, the three guards about it, and my assisting the Lieutenant-Colonel from time to time. But the guards esteem, and we all esteem the officers inside the Sibley more than the General, who abuses his power in his marquee. Letters and newspapers come crawling under the canvas. Roast partridges, squirrels, apples, and delicacies that officers and men deny themselves of, find their way inside, and while my name is Bill Gladdon they shan't suffer through any lack upon my part, and I know that this is the opinion of all of us."
"You all recollect the Sibley," said a Lieutenant, "that stands in the rear of old Pigey's marquee, in
which he gave the collation after the last corps review, and welcomed our officers as he steadied himself at the table, with 'Here comes my gallant 210th.' The Court met in that."