"Here, Rawlins, attend to this man," said the General, and walked away.
"What do you expect me to do?" inquired General Rawlins. "How are you going to find out who did all you complain of?"
"Well, I know who did it," said the old fellow; "it's one of Gin'ral A. J. Smith's rigiments. I know the sargint what led 'em on. He belongs to the Thirteenth Iowy, an' he kin skin a hog quicker'n greased lightnin'!"
Just then General Smith walked in the tent, and the complaint was laid before him.
"They weren't my men, sir," said General Smith. "I know my boys too well. They would never have left that mule and goose! No, sir, my boys don't do things that way; and I advise you, old man, to go back and keep your eye on your goose and mule."
The old man turned to gaze on his beloved mule. It was gone! A soldier stood at the end of the rope!
General Smith glanced proudly around. "Ah, Rawlins," he said, "those must have been my men after all. If I could only hear they had eaten the goose, I should be sure of it."
The story does not follow the aged man to his desolate cabin; but it followed the Admiral as an amusing story for many an evening around the punch-bowl.
Among the men arrayed against the South in battle were many worthy descendants of the men who achieved their independence in 1775-1781, and who then fought shoulder to shoulder with the South.
"They were a brave, self-reliant, patriotic race, and in all the characteristics of manliness, perseverance, fortitude, and courage, were the equals of any race that ever lived." It was from these men, native-born Americans of the North and West, that many a persecuted woman in Georgia, South Carolina, and North Carolina received help and restitution of property. But war brutalizes mean men. The few cannot control the many.