IN AN INSTANT HE PUT THE POINT OF HIS SWORD AGAINST MY BREAST.
I have said that, in cases of sudden and dangerous emergency, I was always able to be cool, while I get terribly rattled in anticipation of imaginary danger. So it was that, in this case, I was the only cool one in the crowd. Looking straight in the Captain's eye, and wholly disregarding his sword, I said to him, calmly: "I am unarmed and a prisoner."
At this, one of the men present, though only an enlisted man, attempted to interfere in my behalf, which only seemed to further enrage the officer, who turned from me to glare at the common soldier.
In the mean time some one had run over to headquarters and told the General and staff that I had been killed by this officer. In a moment the young staff officer made his appearance on the scene, and my life was again saved. The explanation was, that the Indiana Captain was a brother-in-law of the First Sergeant whom I had discomfited. I was politely requested to accompany the young staff officer to the General's tent where the matter was explained.
I have seen military men awfully mad, but it was the first time I ever beheld a General get so angry that he turned as white as a dead man; why, he couldn't speak at all, but simply walked off; and those who had not seen his face would have been led to imagine that he was simply indifferent. I was invited to sit down near the headquarters' tent. In a very few moments—less than it takes to tell it here—that Indiana Captain's sword was taken from him, he was in arrest, in disgrace for having been guilty of one of the most cowardly unofficer-like acts that can be charged to a soldier—that of assaulting a defenseless prisoner.
That afternoon, the Colonel of the Indiana regiment spent a couple of hours with the General, in attempting to palliate the Captain's offense, but it was no use. I could not hear what they said, but could see that the little General kept shaking his head constantly in a savage negative, that indicated his feelings.
This affair created such a stir in the camp that it was thought best to send us away at once. So, that evening, all three of us were marched under the same style of guard with fixed bayonets to the camp of an Ohio regiment, located about a mile distant.
In due time we reached Lexington. Here the officer transferred us to the charge of the sick soldiers. It so happened that, just before reaching the town of Lexington, we had all stopped for a noon rest at a point near which was a fine, old-fashioned mansion house, belonging to a large farm. The house, as is the style of that country, was well supplied with verandas and porches. In the rear was quite a little village of whitewashed log-cabins, which I recognized as the negro quarters. The stone spring-house was in a little ravine convenient to the barn, where we all went to get a drink of cool water. While seated around on the big, flat stones, enjoying the cool, refreshing water, an old gentleman, tall and patriarchal-looking, walked toward us, and, in his courteous manner, introduced himself to the rough-looking crowd that had taken possession of his spring-house, as "the farmer who lived here," pointing back to his house, and politely asked if we required anything more to make us comfortable. For one, I felt abashed and uncomfortable, but Lanyard spoke up and suggested that: "We would like to try a little of the Kentucky whisky that we heard so much about."
"Certainly, certainly, sir;" and turning to a grinning colored "boy," who was quite a gray old rat, he directed him to "fetch the brown jug down."