Red-Tape and Pigeon-Hole Generals

CHAPTER IX.

Reconnoissance concluded--What we Saw and What we didn't See, and what the Good Public Read--Pigeon-hole Generalship and the Press--The Preacher Lieutenant and how he Recruited--Comparative Merits of Black Union Men and White Rebels--A Ground Blast, and its effect upon a Pigeon-hole General--Staff Officers Striking a Snag in the Western Virginia Captain--Why the People have a right to expect Active Army Movements--Red Tape and the Sick List--Pigeon-holing at Division Head-quarters, 100

CHAPTER X.

Departure from Sharpsburg Camp--The Old Woman of Sandy Hook--Harper's Ferry--South sewing Dragon's Teeth by shedding Old John's Blood--The Dutch Doctor and the Boar--Beauties of Tobacco--Camp Life on the Character--Patrick, Brother to the Little Corporal--General Patterson no Irishman--Guarding a Potato Patch in Dixie--The Preacher Lieutenant on Emancipation--Inspection and the Exhorting Colonel--The Scotch Tailor on Military Matters, 116

CHAPTER XI.

Snicker's Gap--Private Harry on the "Anaconda"--Not inclined to turn Boot-Black--"Oh! why did you go for a Soldier?"--The ex-News-Boy--Pigeon-hole Generalship on the March--The Valley of the Shenandoah--A Flesh Carnival--The Dutch Doctor on a Horse-dicker--An Old Rebel, and how he parted with his Apple-Brandy--Toasting the "Union"--Spruce Retreats, 137

CHAPTER XII.. The March to Warrenton--Secesh Sympathy and Quarter-Master's

The March to Warrenton--Secesh Sympathy and Quarter-Master's Receipts--Middle-Borough--The Venerable Uncle Ned and his Story of the Captain of the Tigers--The Adjutant on Strategy--Red Tapism and Mac-Napoleonism--Movement Stopped--Division Head-Quarters out of Whiskey--Stragglers and Marauders--A Summary Proceeding--Persimmons and Picket-Duty--A Rebellious Pig--McClellanism, 160

CHAPTER XIII.

Camp near Warrenton--Stability of the Republic--Measures, not Men, regarded by the Public--Removal of McClellan--Division Head-Quarters a House of Mourning--A Pigeon-hole General and his West Point Patent-Leather Cartridge-Box--Head-Quarter Murmuring and Mutterings--Departure of Little Mac and the Prince--Cheering by Word of Command--The Southern Saratoga--Rebel Regret at McClellan's Departure, 178

CHAPTER XIV.

A Skulker and the Dutch Doctor--A Review of the Corps by Old Joe--A Change of Base; what it means to the Soldier, and what to the Public--Our Quarter-Master and General Hooker--The Movement by the Left Flank--A Division General and Dog driving--The Desolation of Virginia--A Rebel Land-Owner and the Quarter-Master--"No Hoss, Sir!"--The Poetical Lieutenant unappreciated--Mutton or Dog?--Desk Drudgery and Senseless Routine, 193

CHAPTER XV.

Red-Tape and the Soldier's Widow--Pigeon-holing at Head-Quarters and Weeping at the Family Fireside--A Pigeon-hole General Outwitted--Fishing for a Discharge--The Little Irish Corporal on Topographical Engineers--Guard Duty over a Whiskey Barrel, 210

CHAPTER XVI.. The Battle of Fredericksburg--Screwing Courage Up to the Sticking

The Battle of Fredericksburg--Screwing Courage up to the Sticking Point--Consolations of a Flask--Pigeon-hole Nervousness--Abandonment of Knapsacks--Incidents before, during, and after the Fight, 225

CHAPTER XVII.

The Sorrows of the Sutler--The Sutler's Tent--Generals manufactured by the Dailies--Fighting and Writing--A Glandered Horse--Courts-martial--Mania of a Pigeon-hole General on the Subject--Colonel and Lieutenant Colonel in Strait-Jackets, 247

CHAPTER XVIII.. Dress Coats _versus_ Blouses--Military Law--Bill the

Dress Coats versus Blouses--Military Law--Bill the Cook--Courts-Martial--Important Decision in Military Law--A Man with Two Blouses on, can be compelled to put a Dress Coat on top--A Colored French Cook and a Beefy-browed Judge-Advocate--The Mud March--No Pigeon-holing on a Whiskey Scent--Old Joe in Command--Dissolution of Partnership between the Dutch Doctor and the Chaplain, 264

CHAPTER XIX.. The Presentation Mania--the Western Virginia Captain in the War

The Presentation Mania--The Western Virginia Captain in the War Department--Politeness and Mr. Secretary Stanton--Capture of the Dutch Doctor--A Genuine Newspaper Sell, 283

CHAPTER XX.. The Army Again on the Move--Pack Mules and Wagon Trains--a Negro

The Army again on the Move--Pack Mules and Wagon Trains--A Negro Prophetess--The Wilderness--Hooped Skirts and Black Jack--The Five Days' Fight at Chancellorsville--Terrible Death of an Aged Slave--A Pigeon-hole General's "Power in Reserve," 295

CHAPTER XXI.

The Pigeon-hole General and his Adjutant, under Charges--The Exhorting Colonel's Adieu to the Sunday Fight at Chancellorsville; Reasons thereof--Speech of the Dutch Doctor in Reply to a Peace-Offering from the Chaplain--The Irish Corporal stumping for Freedom--Black Charlie's Compliments to his Master--Western Virginia at the Head of a Black Regiment, 313

RED-TAPE

AND

PIGEON-HOLE GENERALS.

CHAPTER I.. _the Advent of Our General of Division--Camp Near Frederick City,

The Advent of our General of Division--Camp near Frederick City, Maryland--The Old Revolutionary Barracks at Frederick--An Irish Corporal's Recollections of the First Regiment of Volunteers from Pennsylvania--Punishment in the Old First.

"Our new Division-General, boys!" exclaimed a sergeant of the 210th Pennsylvania Volunteers, whose attention and head were turned at the clatter of horses' hoofs to the rear. "I heard an officer say that he would be along to-day, and I recognise his description."

The men, although weary and route-worn, straightened up, dressed their ranks, and as the General and Staff rode past, some enthusiastic soldier proposed cheers for our new Commander. They started with a will, but the General's doubtful look, as interpreted by the men, gave little or no encouragement, and the effort ended in a few ragged discordant yells.

"He is a strange-looking old covey any how," said one of the boys in an undertone. "Did you notice that red muffler about his neck, and how pinched up and crooked his hat is, and that odd-looking moustache, and how savagely he cocks his eyes through his spectacles?"

"They say," replied the sergeant, "that we are the first troops that he has commanded. He was a staff officer before in the Topographical Corps. Didn't you notice the T.C. on his coat buttons?"

"And is he going to practise upon us?" blurts out a bustling red-faced little Irish corporal. "Be Jabers, that accounts for the crooked cow road we have marched through the last day--miles out of the way, and niver a chance for coffee."

"You are too fast, Terence," said the sergeant; "if he belongs to the Topographical Corps, he ought at least to know the roads."

"And didn't you say not two hours ago that we were entirely out of the way, and that we had been wandering as crooked as the creek that flows back of the old town we are from, and nearly runs through itself in a dozen places?"

The sergeant admitted that he had said so, but stated that perhaps the General was not to blame, and added somewhat jocosely: "At any rate the winding of the creek makes those beautiful walks we have so much enjoyed in summer evenings."

"Beautiful winding walks! is it, sergeant! Shure and whin you have your forty pound wait upon your back, forty rounds of lead and powdher in your cartridge-box, and twenty more in your pocket, three days' rations in your haversack, a musket on your shoulder, and army brogans on your throtters, you are just about the first man that I know of to take straight cuts."

* * * * *

It was a close warm day near the middle of September. The roads were dusty and the troops exhausted. Two days previously the brigade to which they belonged had left the pleasantest of camps, called "Camp Whipple" in honor of their former and favorite Division Commander. Situated in an orchard on the level brow of a hill that overlooked Washington, the imposing Capitol, the broad expanse of the Potomac dotted with frequent craft, the many national buildings, and scenery of historic interest, the men left it with regret, but carried with them recollections that often in times of future depression revived their patriotic ardor.

Over dusty roads, through the muddy aqueduct of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal, hurried on over the roughly paved streets of Georgetown, and through the suburbs of Washington, they finally halted for the night, and, as it chanced through lack of orders, for the succeeding day also, near Meridian Hill. Under orders to join the Fifth Army Corps commanded by Major-General Fitz John Porter, to which the Division had been previously assigned, the march was resumed on the succeeding day, which happened to be Sunday, and in the afternoon of which our chapter opens.

A march of another day brought the Brigade to a recent Rebel camp ground. Traces of their occupancy were found not only in their depredations in the neighborhood destructive of railroad bridges, but also in letters and wall-paper envelopes adorned with the lantern-jawed phiz of Jefferson Davis. The latter were sought after with avidity as soon as ranks were broken and tents pitched; the more eagerly perhaps for the reason that during the greater part of their previous month of service they had been frequently within sound of rebel cannon, although but once under their fire. During the previous day, in fact, they had marched to the music of the artillery of South Mountain.

That night awakened lively recollections in the mind of Terence McCarty, our lively little Irish corporal. His duty for the time as corporal of a relief gave him ample opportunity to indulge them. He had belonged to the old First Pennsylvania Regiment of three months men, that a little over a year before, when Maryland was halting between loyalty and disloyalty, had spent its happiest week of service in the yard of the revolutionary barracks in the city of Frederick. Terence was but two short miles from the spot. Brimfull of the memories, he turned to a comrade, who had also belonged to the First, and who with others chanced to stand near.

"I say, Jack! Do you recollect the ould First and Frederick, and do you know that we are but two miles and short ones at that from the blissed ould white-washed barracks, full of all kind of quare guns and canteens looking like barrels cut down; and the Parade Ground where our ould Colonel used to come his 'Briskly, men! Briskly,' when he'd put us through the manual, and where so many ladies would come to see our ivolutions, and where they set the big table for us on the Fourth, and where--"

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