We were taken in charge by a couple of jolly fellows of an Indiana regiment, one of whom had been a river man, and had some acquaintance with that section of the Ohio river, the headwaters of which I had started out from with Andy Johnson's train some months before. The "boys" gave us a hearty supper of coffee—real coffee.
It is sufficient to say here that the boys of that Indiana regiment were clever fellows; they treated us bang-up, as our fellows always did when a poor, hungry devil in gray strayed in to take supper with them.
There were one or two exceptions, as there always is in every company, who run around to do the scavenger work. I was tired—I believe I have said so once before—and, as soon as possible, after the grub had been swallowed, I hunted a place to stretch myself out for a rest. I felt safe enough, and knew then that, for the first night in months, I could lie down to sleep in perfect security, not dreading or fearing what the next day would bring forth.
One of those curs, that was always hanging around to make themselves noticed, seemed to have taken offense at what he supposed was an intentional slight or failure to recognize his importance; he was, I think, a First Sergeant of a company—one of those fellows who have a grievance against everybody because he wasn't the Colonel. I don't really remember what I could have said or done to have brought upon my defenseless head his vengeance; but it's my impression now that, in his positive, disagreeable way, he had been boastfully referring to the Rebel soldiers in their front as being of no consequence—you all know how some fools talk about the enemy. It's barely possible that I had resented his estimate of the ability of the Rebels I had just left. I had been among them a good while, and knew something of their character, and it was a weakness with me to attempt to defend them at such a time; but I reckon I was as big a fool as this fellow himself, and talked too much in an honest, candid way about the earnestness and patriotic zeal and enthusiasm, as well as the undoubted courage of the Rebel soldiers.
I reckon that I was so tired that I was cross-grained at the persistence of the fellow urging himself upon me. I was wakened from a sound sleep by a Corporal with an armed guard, who said he had orders to put me in the guard-house. Hardly realizing my position, in my dazed condition, I mechanically followed the Corporal out into the cool, night air, which had the effect of awakening me fully to the changed conditions in my circumstances.
It seemed so like a dream that I could scarcely realize that I was being escorted to a guard-house. The Corporal kindly intimated to me that there were fears that I would get away. I could get no further satisfaction from him or the guard, except that the matter would be explained in the morning.
The fact that a Sentinel stood near me with a loaded musket did not at all interfere with my slumber; it rather had the effect of inducing more sound sleep, as I felt a certain personal security from the Rebels as long as I was honored with a private protector of my own—while I slept. In the morning a good breakfast was sent me. Lanyard called, but was not permitted to speak to me, and walked off swearing to himself. After guard-mounting, I was conducted to the General's tent, where I met the young staff officer, who, in the most brotherly manner, said:
"Mr. ——, the General was disposed to give you special consideration, because it seems that he had been impressed by your manner and your voluntary salute to our colors yesterday, that you were a born loyalist; but he is informed by Captain —— and some member of Company —, Indiana, that you were detected in giving expression to the most traitorous sentiments, and you declared your belief of the ultimate success of the Rebels, which, you know, is not the way you talked to us yesterday."
My manner and the expression of my face must have satisfied the young officer at once. Really, I was too much taken aback to speak for a moment, but, when my tongue did get loosened, it gave expression to such violent language that the young officer laughed heartily at my earnestness. I denied most positively the use of any such words, and demanded the authority. The officer simply said:
"Well! The General said you were nobody's fool, and I didn't think you would have talked that way in our camp;" then, turning to an orderly, he directed him to bring to headquarters a certain person, whose name I am sorry I am unable to give. It was the blatant First Sergeant who had forced himself upon me. When face to face with him, in the presence of the General and several other persons, I was able to so completely demolish his statements that his discomfiture was enjoyed by everybody around the camp. I was indignant, and I talked badly. I was apt to be that way then, and my tongue and gestures toward my vis-a-vis created so much amusement I was allowed to indulge myself to the fullest extent. It was a mistake of mine. The Sergeant went away humiliated and full of revengeful intent. I was released from arrest and joined Lanyard in the camp. The affair had created something of a breeze, as every soldier in camp had heard of the arrest. While in a tent, surrounded by a crowd of boys who were congratulating me, an officer with a drawn sword rushed into the crowd and in an instant put the point of his sword against my breast, with a wild oath, as he grabbed for my throat, declaring he would kill me if I did not retract every word I said to the General about his First Sergeant.