The Twenty-fifth Regiment Connecticut Volunteers in the War of the Rebellion Part 3

Port Hudson, July 4th, (Independence Day). As will be seen, we had no idea of what was going on more than two hundred miles up the river at Vicksburg, or fifteen hundred miles at Gettysburg. At Vicksburg, General Grant was quietly smoking a cigar when he wrote a dispatch to be sent to Cairo to be telegraphed to the General-in-Chief at Washington: "The enemy surrendered this morning. The only terms allowed is their parole as prisoners of war." The same dispatch was sent to General Banks at Port Hudson. At Gettysburg the army of the Potomac had inflicted a terrible defeat on the army of Northern Virginia. I really believe this is the quietest Fourth of July I have ever spent. Verily, I don't believe there has been as much powder burnt here as in New York or Boston. I wouldn't wonder if Hartford, with its swarm of boys, could outstrip us. Every little while there's a bang, a boom and the bursting of a sh.e.l.l, for we must keep the besieged from falling asleep and stir them up occasionally. Now, the music is becoming lively, the gunboats and the batteries are pitching in and altogether we are giving them Hail Columbia to the tune of Yankee Doodle.

For the last few days we have been in a very enviable frame of mind, expecting every day to be ordered to partic.i.p.ate in another a.s.sault. Yet the orders have not come and each night we have drawn a long breath and exclaimed one more day of grace. Well, so it is, but while we are getting uneasy for another fight we have a strong desire to avoid charging on the breastworks again. We've been in three, and some of us four, a.s.saults on the Rebel fortifications and each time we have been driven back. The first of July, General Banks made us a great speech promising us that within three days we would be inside Port Hudson. But the three days have pa.s.sed and those rascally Rebs still persist in keeping us outside. Although the fortifications could probably be stormed any day, yet why waste life when a few days will bring them to terms, as they are now reduced to mule-meat and a little corn. Deserters are coming in fast. One day as many as one hundred and fifty came in saying they couldn't stand mule-meat any longer. Now I am feeling sure that within a few days I shall be able to record the fall of Port Hudson. The Rebel cavalry are hara.s.sing our rear ranks continually. They made a dash day before yesterday from Clinton and Jackson, striking here and there and picked up some stragglers and foraging parties. A few days ago they dashed into Springfield Landing whence we draw our stores and ammunition, but our cavalry went after them so quick they found pressing business in other quarters.

On the other side of the Mississippi quite a force came down. They attacked Donaldsonville a few days ago demanding the surrender of the town. But the provost-marshal gathered his forces together, amounting to about two hundred, got inside his fortifications, and waited for them to come up. The contest was kept up from midnight till daylight, when the sudden appearance of a gunboat caused the Rebels to skedaddle, leaving about one hundred dead on the field, several hundred wounded and one hundred and twenty prisoners.

Now comes the great surprise of all. The confounded Rebs have got into Bayou Boeuf and destroyed or captured the whole of our division property stored there. Tents, baggage, knapsacks, company and regimental books are all gone. At this time we were all as poor as Job's turkey. Except for the rags that cover us, we haven't a thing. Were I where I could, I should like to write a letter to the Soldiers' Aid Society for some handkerchiefs, being reduced to the last shift, i. e., the flap of an old shirt picked up in a deserted mansion. Word comes from Colonel Bissell that he is slowly improving. We are hoping that we shall see him with us again soon. But I really believe his sickness saved his life, for it is doubtful if he would have come out alive from the charge the regiment made on the 27th of May. We are having some very hot weather. We are spending most of our time on picket duty and trying to keep cool. You would have laughed if you could have seen us at our meals wearing only shirt and drawers, while our comical colored boy, Adam, squatted down on the ground in front of us keeping the flies off. This Adam was a corker. Speaking of Mobile one day, he said: "Reckon you couldn't fool dis n.i.g.g.a much in dat town. Specks he was born and raised dar. Yah! yah! yah! Reckon he knows ebry hole dar from de liquor-shops to de meeting houses."

July 8th. The dispatch from General Grant, previously referred to, was received. The booming of big guns, the cheers and shouts of the Union soldiers and the strains of patriotic music informed the besieged that something had happened. They were not slow to find out the cause of the rejoicing. General Gardner sent a flag of truce to General Banks to know if the report that Vicksburg had surrendered was true and received in reply a copy of General Grant's dispatch. The garrison had done their duty with brave fort.i.tude. The Union lines were already in some places up to their breastworks. Starvation was staring them in the face and taking everything into consideration about the only thing for General Gardner to do was to surrender. Should the expected charge have been made by the "stormers" it would have been a waste of life for they could not expect to hold their position.

The 8th was spent in arranging terms for the surrender of the fortress and on the 9th, the storming column led the advance as the victorious army marched into Port Hudson to put the Stars and Stripes in the place of the stars and bars.

President Lincoln's long-desired hope was realized and he could now say: "The Father of Waters again goes unmolested to the sea." The time of the nine-months' men was soon to expire and the Twenty-fifth Connecticut left very soon for New Orleans, but was detained at Donaldsonville for a few days.

SAMUEL KIMBALL ELLIS This picture was taken at time of enlistment Sept. 12, 1863, at the age of 22. He enlisted as a private in Company G, 25th Regiment, Connecticut Volunteers.

About fifty years ago the people in the North were probably in a frenzy of excitement. We soldiers in the South had learned to take things cool. Vicksburg, the stumbling block, had fallen; Port Hudson had caved in; Lee and his army had gone to one eternal smash; Port Hudson had scarcely surrendered when we were called upon again to take the field. Those confounded Rebels didn't know how to stay whipped, and General Taylor, reinforced by General Magruder's Texicans, had again taken the field. They attacked us at Donaldsonville with a much larger force in proportion to ours but got soundly thrashed; we being strongly reinforced, came out to meet them and got whipped, and so the matter rested. The commanding officer of the brigade was flanked through carelessness and they had to fall back with a loss of two cannon. Our brigade was on the reserve. We fell in and rushed to the rescue but too late, for they were in full retreat. A new line was formed, the Twenty-fifth deployed as skirmishers and sent forward. After advancing quite a distance through the corn we were ordered back and our whole force fell back about half a mile, where we were still holding a strong position. The Rebels meanwhile had left and fortified at Labordieville, some twenty miles distant. The Twenty-fifth Connecticut regiment, after one of the most trying campaigns of the war, was about to take another sea voyage.

Here are a few verses which I have written on the siege of Port Hudson:

PORT HUDSON.

Well do I remember, how fifty years ago, Down on the banks of the Mississippi, We met the Southern foe, And faced a storm of shot and sh.e.l.l; That many a life was sacrificed Mid battle h.e.l.l of smoke and flame On the field of Port Hudson.

Well do I remember, how those days, The gallant Third Brigade went Marching down into the woods Like men on dress parade; Though from the wood in front The foe their deadly missiles sent.

Thinning our ranks Those days at b.l.o.o.d.y Port Hudson.

How on the left the Connecticut Thirteenth engaged in desperate fight And left in front the Twenty-fifth was marshaled on the right; Side by side, New York and Maine for honors did contend, When Rebel yell and Yankee cheer was heard at Port Hudson.

And though we drove away the foe How dear was victory won, For when the din of battle ceased, The burning sun shone down upon the b.l.o.o.d.y field And shone on foe and friend, Who bravely met a soldier's fate, That day on the field of Port Hudson.

Now fifty years have gone, How soon they pa.s.s away, Since we did wear the army blue; And now we wear the gray, For time has turned our hair to gray, To show us near the end, And soon will none be left to Tell the tale of Port Hudson.

Were I to pledge those bygone days Oh this would be my toast: "Here's to the dear old Stars and Stripes, Our country's pride and boast; Here's to the Union Volunteers, Who did the flag defend, And here's to my old comrades Who fought at Port Hudson."

August 8th. It was a beautiful morning and we were in camp waiting for orders to start. We had orders to be ready to go on board the Steamer Thomas Scott at twelve o'clock. At two o'clock we were gliding down the old Mississippi. We stopped at New Orleans, took some horses aboard and started again at about six o'clock. Arrived at the mouth of the Mississippi at midnight. Here we waited for a pilot, took him on board and was off again.

August 9th, Sunday. At 6:30 o'clock we pa.s.sed the bar, left the pilot and in a short time were out of sight of land. The captain of the boat said he would land us in New York by Sat.u.r.day night, if all went well.

August 10th. It was a fine morning and we were enjoying ourselves with a deck pa.s.sage at that.

August 11th. This morning we pa.s.sed several lighthouses; one was upon Tortugas Island.

August 12th. The old steamer was making good speed. Comrade Chadwick died last night; this morning he was buried at sea. He was a member of our regiment and enlisted from Andover, this state.

August 13th. This morning was very fine, but the ship rolled and pitched considerable, owing to being in the Gulf Stream.

August 14th. The old ship was making good speed and we were hoping to get into New York harbor by Sat.u.r.day night, as it was getting pretty tiresome on the old filthy vessel, with the vermin almost unbearable.

August 15th. This was a beautiful day and the old steamer continued making good time.

August 16th. The day was fine and we expected to get into port at night and our expectations were realized, about seven o'clock after being in this dirty place for a whole week.

August 17th. We arrived in port last night but had to stay upon the ship another night. I managed to get a small loaf of bread and if I remember correctly, I wasn't long devouring it, for we had had nothing but hard-tack and raw salt pork to eat and condensed water to drink since we went aboard the ship at New Orleans. This (Sunday) morning we were allowed to go ash.o.r.e and were kept penned up till about night when we went aboard the good-looking old boat, City of Hartford. We arrived in Hartford, if my memory serves me correctly, at about 10 o'clock Monday morning, August 18th, 1863, and I guess we were about as tough a looking set of fellows as ever came off the boat. Yes, I must admit, we were a pretty hard looking set, what there was left of us, for we had dwindled down to less than one-third the number which left Hartford about a year previous. What a change had come over us. Why, some of our friends didn't know us, we had changed so. One comrade in particular I will mention, Wm. Goodrich. He went from Glas...o...b..ry in my company. He was a big fine looking man, weighing two hundred and fifty pounds when we went away, and when he came home he hardly weighed one hundred and fifty. Was it any wonder that our friends couldn't recognize us with the beards we had grown on our faces, and the soiled clothing we were wearing? Well, I finally reached home and you can imagine how glad I was. I think that I felt much as the Prodigal Son did when he returned home. To get my clothes off and get into a good bed, (which I had not done for about a year) and to be cared for by a kind and loving mother, I never felt more like singing, "Home, Sweet Home."

In closing this sketch of the gallant Twenty-fifth Regiment, I would say that war, as far as my experience goes, is not the thing it's cracked up to be. Though anyone can get used to all kinds of horrid sights, in a measure, I could tell some things that I don't think one would care to hear. But I will omit all description as it is best learned by experience. I think scant justice has been done to the Nineteenth Army Corps and General Banks, inasmuch as the field of action while in Louisiana was far away and until the fall of Port Hudson, was cut off from the North except by the sea. The public attention was taken up in the States along the border and even our great victory at Port Hudson was eclipsed and looked upon as a consequence of the fall at Vicksburg. But they did a great deal of hard fighting and made hundreds of miles of hard marchings in a climate to which the men were not accustomed.

An Interesting Incident.

It was in the Spring of 1863, and General Banks had inaugurated the campaign which ended in the capture of the last stronghold. We had marched to the very outworks of Port Hudson, and engaged the Confederate forces, on that historic night, when lashed to the maintop, high above the boiling surges, stout-hearted, Farragut, drove his vessels through the storm of shot and sh.e.l.l, that was hurled upon him from the heights above, and cut the Rebel communications between Port Hudson and Vicksburg. These two fortified places were the only ones left on the Mississippi River, not in our hands. Grant, was already hammering at Vicksburg, but before Port Hudson could be invested, it was necessary to dispose of Confederate General Taylor and his forces, who from their position in the South, could fall upon our unprotected rear or make a dash for New Orleans. Returning then, to our camp at Baton Rouge, after a few days' rest, we were suddenly divided into two forces, one marching down through the country, to engage the enemy at New Iberia, and the rest of us sent around by water and up through the Atchafalaya to intercept and cut them to pieces. It was only a partial success. Driven from their position in Fort Bisland, they fell upon us before we were fairly in position, and held us in check while the whole army slipped by. Then commenced a long pursuit, enlivened by daily skirmish and fighting which lasted from the sh.o.r.es of the Gulf to Shreveport, in the extreme northwestern corner of the state where they were driven across the border into Texas.

It was on this march that the incident occurred which I am about to narrate. We had been marching all day, in fact, from before the dawn, trying to reach the Bayou Vermillion, before the enemy could destroy the bridge. Men fell out by the scores, but still we hurried on with all the speed our wearied limbs could support. Just as it was growing too dark to see, a battery opened upon us, and there was a sharp charge of cavalry. We were hastily thrown into position to receive them, but in an instant, wheeling, they dashed across the bridge, destroying it in our very faces before it could be prevented.

The next day was Sunday and while we camped there waiting for the construction of a new bridge, about half the advance division took the opportunity to strip and go in bathing. Suddenly, without an instant's warning, a troupe of cavalry dashed down the opposite bank, and opened fire upon us. Such a spectacle never before was seen. The long roll was sounding and naked men, in every direction were making a dash for their guns, trying to dress as they ran. Some with their trousers on hind side before, didn't know whether they were advancing or retreating, and some ran the wrong way, others, with simply a shirt and cap, were trying to adjust their belts. Officers were swearing and mounted aids were dashing about, trying to make order out of confusion.

The next day we were ordered to Barry's Landing, to act as guard for a steamer coming up through the bayous with supplies, and here my story properly begins. It was April 22, 1863, and the regiment, exhausted by the conflict of the 14th, and the rapid march ensuing, following hard upon the track of Taylor's flying forces, from Franklin to Opelousas, was resting at Barry's Landing, when suddenly the whole camp was thrown into a ferment of excitement by the news that the paymaster had arrived, and would be at headquarters at 12 o'clock. Oh, welcome news to men who had been without pay for six months. How the eye glistened, and the mouth watered for the leeks and flesh-pots of Louisiana!

What visions of Sutler's delicacies opened up once more to those whom long-tick had gradually restricted to a Spartan diet of hard-tack and salt pork. What thoughts of home and the money that could be sent to loved ones far away, suffering, perhaps for lack of that very money-but how to do it,-there was the question. Here we were in the very heart of the Rebel country, two hundred miles at least from New Orleans, in the midst of an active campaign. No opportunity to send letters except such as chance threw in the way, and no certainty that such letters would ever reach their destination. Added to this, came the order to be ready to march at four o'clock. Whither we knew not, but the foe was ahead, and our late experience had taught us that life was but an uncertain element and that a Rebel bullet had a very careless way of seeking out and finding its victim. In the midst of all the bustle and confusion, the sergeant-major, William E. Simonds came tearing along through the camp excitedly inquiring for Lieut. Goodell. That estimable officer, I am sorry to say, having received no pay, owing to some informality in his papers when mustered in from second to first lieutenant, had retired into the shade of a neighboring magnolia tree, and was there meditating on the cussedness of paymasters, mustering officers, the army in general. In fact, everything looked uncommonly black and never before had he so strongly believed in universal d.a.m.nation. To him, then, thus communing came Sergeant-major Simonds, and said: "You will report for duty at once to headquarters; you are directed to receive the pay of the regiment and proceed forthwith to New Orleans, there to express same home, returning to the regiment as soon thereafter as practicable."

The rest we will let Lieut. Goodell tell in his own way:

How the Pay of a Regiment Was Carried to New Orleans by Lieutenant Henry Hill Goodell.

"Gone at once were my sulks, vanished in an instant my ill-humor, black demons and everything. Though I could not help wondering how in all creation I was going to perform a journey of several hundred miles that would occupy a week at least without a cent of money in my pocket, a clerk was detailed to a.s.sist me, and for the next hour I counted money over a hard-tack box, jamming it away instantly into my haversack while he entered in a little book the amount received from each person, the sums given to pay for its expressage, and the addresses to which it was to be sent. No time to make change. Even sums were given, counted, and tucked away with rapidity. At the landing was a little stern-wheel steamer, captured from the Rebels, which was to leave from Brashear City in an hour or two. The sick and wounded were hastily transferred to it, and as the regiment marched off, I stepped on board with my precious haversack, now swollen out to unwonted proportions. Not a state-room, not a berth was to be had. There was no safe in which I could deposit valuables. Too many knew what I was carrying, and I dared not for an instant lift the weight from my shoulder or to remove my sword and pistol. Like Mary's lamb, where'er I went, the haversack was sure to go.

HENRY HILL GOODELL Deceased Served as 2nd and 1st Lieutenant, Co. F, 25th Regiment, Connecticut Volunteers.

"Never shall I forget the beauty of that sail, and but for the feeling of distrust and suspicion that made me look upon every man that approached me, as a personal enemy, I should have thoroughly enjoyed it. We were dropping down one of those little bayous that intersect the state in every direction. The spring freshets had swollen the stream and set its waters far back into the forests that lined its banks on either side. Festoons of Spanish moss, drooped like a mourning veil from bough to bough. Running vines with bright colored sprays of flowers twined in and out among the branches of the trees. The purple pa.s.sion flowers flung out its starry blossoms to the world, the sign and symbol of the suffering Saviour. While the air was heavy with the scent of magnolias and yellow ja.s.samine. Crested herons, snowy white, rose from the water, and stretching their long necks and legs out into a straight line with their bodies winged their flight above the tree-tops. Pelicans displayed their ungainly forms, as they snapped at the pa.s.sing fish and neatly laid them away for future reference in their pouches. Strange birds of gaudy plumage flew from side to side, harshly screaming as they hid themselves in the dense foliage. Huge alligators sunned themselves along the sh.o.r.e, or showed their savage muzzles, as they slowly swam across our path. Frequently at some sharp bend, it seemed as if we must certainly run ash.o.r.e, but the engine being reversed, the current would swing the bow around and by dint of hard pushing with poles, we would escape the threatened danger, and start again in our new direction. Sunset faded into twilight, and twilight deepened into the darkness, and silence of a Southern night, and then the entire loneliness and responsibility of my position suddenly overwhelmed me. I had no place to lie down, and hardly dared sit for fear of falling asleep. It seemed as though I could hear whispers behind me, and every now and then I would catch myself nodding, and wake with a cold chill running up and down the small of my back, as I felt sure that some unlawful hand was tampering with my burden. With the coming of the dawn, I breathed more freely, and the day seemed interminable, and it became a very burden to live. Twice we broke down and tying up to a friendly tree repaired the damage. Night came again and found us still miles away from our destination. It was horrible. I walked the deck, drank coffee, pinched myself. 'Oh, if I can only keep awake!' I kept repeating to myself. But at 2 o'clock in the morning we broke down again, with the prospect of being detained some hours. I knew that if I did not reach Brashear City by 7 o'clock I should be another dreary day on the way, and lose my connections with the single train for New Orleans. Time was an element of importance, for I should lose the mail steamer for New York and be delayed in my return to the regiment which I had left in the heart of Louisiana marching onward-I knew not where, but with faces set toward the North.

"Finding that we were distant from eight to twelve miles across country according to the different estimates, I determined to make the attempt to reach it on foot. Any danger, anything seemed preferable to staying on the boat. With the first breaking of the dawn, when I could get my bearings, I slung myself ash.o.r.e. A private in my regiment discharged for disability, begged to accompany me. With weapons ready for instant use, we pushed along, afraid of our own shadows, looking for a lurking foe behind every bush, and when some startled bird suddenly broke from its cover, the heart of one at least stood still for a moment and then throbbed away like a steam engine. If a man was seen, however distant, we dropped to cover and watched him out of sight before we dared move. For the first mile our progress was very slow-now wading through water, now sinking in the mud, floundering about as best we could, while the mosquitoes and gnats settled down on us in swarms, uttering a triumphant buzzing as though they recognized the fact that they had fresher blood to feed on than that offered by the fever-stricken victims of the South and were determined to make the most of their opportunity. But the open country once reached we lengthened out our steps and struck into a six-mile gait. Soon my companion began to falter and fall behind. But I could not afford to wait, telling him I presumed he was all right, but I could not run any risks, I stood him up by a tree and taking his gun, marched off a couple hundred yards, then laying it down I shouted to him to come on, and, setting off at the top of my speed, saw him no more. Whether he ever reached his destination or whether wandering helplessly along-he was swooped down upon by some gorilla, and led away to starve and die in a Southern prison, I did not learn for many years. At the last reunion I attended, I was called upon to respond to the toast 'The Postal Service of the Regiment, and What You Know About It,' and at the conclusion of my remarks, a stout grizzled veteran grasped my hand and said: 'Look, I'm glad to see you. I thought it pretty cruel to leave me alone in Dixie, but you had warned me beforehand and I guess you were right.'

"Avoiding the houses and striking across the fields, I made the last part of my way at full run, and drew up panting and exhausted at Berwick Bay shortly after six. Not a moment was to be lost. I could hear the engine puffing across the waters. Shouting to a darkey, who seemed to rise up preternaturally out of the ground, I ordered him to row me over; and a more astonished man I think I never saw than he was. When on reaching the opposite sh.o.r.e, with but ten minutes to spare, I bolted from the boat without a word, and started on the run for headquarters. The general was asleep, but an aid carried in my pa.s.s, signed by General Banks, brought it back countersigned, and in five minutes more I was aboard the train moving on to New Orleans.

"Of this part of my journey I have a very indistinct remembrance. My impression is that I dozed whenever I sat down, and I was so tired I could hardly stand. I had had nothing to eat since the night before and was faint and exhausted with hunger, and my exertions. Nothing but the special training my cla.s.s had taken in gymnasium during the previous year, for just such an emergency, pulled me through the long run and long fast following it. It was only a run of 100 miles but I think we must have stopped to wood and water at every cotton-wood grove and swamp along the way; and I remember at one of these periodical stops, going out on the platform, and falling into an altercation with a little red-headed doctor, who, whether he had scented my secret or not, with that divine intuition for discovering the hidden, peculiar to the craft, had made himself officially offensive to me, and now, wanted to borrow my revolver to shoot a copper-head that lay coiled up by the side of the track. Refused in that, he next wanted to examine my sword, and when under some trifling pretext, I abruptly left him and going inside the car, sat down as near as possible to a bluff-looking lieutenant, whose honest face seemed a true indication of character, his wrath knew no bounds and was quite outspoken. 'Peace to your injured spirit, oh fiery-headed son of Esculapius, if you are still in the land of the living! I here tender you my humble apologies. Doubtless you intended nothing more than to compare the efficiency of my leaden b.a.l.l.s with one of your own deadly Bolouses or to see how my cleaver compared in sharpness with one of your own little scalpels.' But at that particular time I should have been suspicious of my own brother had he desired to inspect or use my arms.

"It was late Sat.u.r.day afternoon when, tired and faint, I landed in the city. Pushing straight to the office of the Adams Express Company, I told them I had the pay of a regiment to express home and wanted five or six hundred money order blanks and envelopes. I shall never forget the look of incredulity with which the clerk looked at me. I was dirty and ragged, just in from the front, with no shoulder-straps, for we had been ordered to remove them and diminish the chances of being picked off by the sharpshooters but had sword and pistol and an innocent looking haversack hanging at my side. However, he said not a word, but pa.s.sed over the papers.

"My next adventure was in a saloon where on calling for a drink of whiskey, I was informed that they were not allowed to sell to privates. On my throwing down my pa.s.s signed by Gen. Banks, the courteous keeper acknowledged his mistake, and invited me to take something at his expense. Immediately after supper to which-it is hardly necessary to say-I was accompanied by that confounded haversack, I fairly loathed it by this time-I retired to my room, locked the door and went to work. Excitement kept me up and by 2 o'clock everything was done. The money counted and placed in the envelopes, and the blanks filled out, and the footing correctly made. Then, only did I know how much I had carried with me and how precious were the contents of my haversack. Barricading my door, with the table, and wedging a chair in between it and the bed, I thrust the haversack between the sheets, slid in after it, laid my revolver by the pillow, and in an instant was sound asleep. The next morning on going down to breakfast I innocently inquired of the clerk in the office if he would give me a receipt for valuables. 'Certainly,' was his smiling rejoinder. 'For how much?' 'Twenty-four thousand three hundred and forty-six dollars,' I replied and half opening my haversack, showed him the bundles of express envelopes, explaining that it was the pay of a regiment. 'Where did you keep this last night?' was the next question. 'In my room.' 'You d-- fool, it might have been stolen.' 'True, but I thought it would be safe enough and besides I did not know how much I had.'

"Breakfast over I repaired at once to the office of the express company and by noon, with my receipts in my pocket, I stepped forth, feeling as if a gigantic load had rolled from my shoulders.

"Of my journey back there is no need to speak; suffice it to say that two or three weeks thereafter, one night as the sun was setting, I stood with beating heart on the levee, outside of Simsport on the Red River, waiting for the coming of the regiment on its march down from Alexandria. Column after column pa.s.sed and still I waited. But suddenly I caught the roll of drums and there came a dimness over my eyes, for I recognized familiar forms. The colonel riding at the head, the little drum major, the colors and each well known face. As they came up I saluted, someone recognized me, and called my name. Instantly the cry, 'Lieutenant Goodell has come!' swept down the line, and with one mighty shout, the boys welcomed back the bearer of their pay. That night I went from camp-fire to camp-fire and gave to each orderly sergeant the receipts for his company. Of all that money, only one envelope went astray, and the express company made good the loss."