Reminiscences.
INCIDENTS IN AND OUT OF CAMP, NO. 1.
In winter of 1861-2, at Camp Minor’s Hill, Virginia, Company B had a man who was an inveterate forager, in fact, he was peculiarly adapted to that branch of service. He would be absent a week at a time. When he showed up in camp, he was put on extra duty, or punished in some form. At one time he was to stand on a barrel two hours. Some of the boys dug a hole, and placed about a peck of blank cartridges in the same; dug a trench to a tent ten feet away and laid a train of powder; put the barrel over the hole. Soon the culprit was brought, and caused to mount the barrel. Soon that barrel took a flying leap heavenward ten feet in the air. The man, with arms and legs extended, and with a look I never shall forget. When he struck the earth, he said, with a grim sense of humor, “Well boys, you came damned near translating me—making a second prophet of me; I am inclined to think the route you would have caused me to take, would be poor foraging.”
On one of his migratorial expeditions, he met with the last enemy to be conquered—Death. He was fairly educated, and a man of good sense. He would not learn drill or to handle a musket. He would have made a proficient spy. I have thought sometimes he was employed in that capacity, unknown to the Regiment, for he would leave camp as soon as he was relieved. The barrel episode was the most severe punishment he ever received, at our hands. It was my province to look after the Company, and absent ones. I rarely reported him absent. I enjoyed many a toothsome viand, the result of his foraging. He had at one time ten thousand dollars, in Erie and Kalamazoo money, and he assured me got rid of it all.
INCIDENT NO. 2.
When the Regiment went into camp for the winter, 1861, the boys built quarters of logs, with canvas tops; Company B built what they called a Hermitage, of timber, mud and canvas. Its capacity was for about twenty of the men. A chimney was constructed of sticks and mud for a base, topped out with barrels. One night, we, of the shoulder straps and high chevrons, got an invite to a barbacue at the Hermitage. As we filed in a huge fire, with half a yearling steer hanging over the fire place, met our view. It hung directly in the blaze; the boys were occasionally throwing water on the meat to baste it. As fast as the outside was cooked, it was sliced off and passed around. Whiskey was plenty, and copiously used, to wash down the banquet. Songs and speeches were in order. By the way, Company B had plenty of talent—doctors, lawyers, preachers and gentlemen; a good time all around. Finally some one of the party, who had not the fear of his Creator, or shoulder straps in his heart, blew up the chimney barrels, and all went up in smoke.
