At last, on the eight of November, 1862, we reached Edgefield, on the Cumberland River directly opposite Nashville, a distance of one hundred and eighty three miles from Louisville, and went into camp. On the afternoon of our arrival, after camp had been established, the writer went over to a house near by, where there was, what had been the summer before, a vegetable garden. There were several of us in there, digging around with sticks to get a few onions that had been left in the ground. We were all busily engaged, when we heard a voice ring out "what in —— are you fellows doing in there? —— —— ye, get out of there and go to your quarters." We raised up, and saw a man of medium size approach one of the boys who was busily engaged in digging for onions, and hit him on the back, shouting at the same time: "Get out of here." The man had on a long military overcoat, all buttoned up, and it was impossible to tell who he was by his clothing. The boy whom he had struck quickly raised up, and with a well directed blow of his fist, knocked the unknown gentleman sprawling; he went one way, and his cap another. Gathering himself up, he shouted: "What do you mean, you rascal; I am General Sheridan." That was all he needed to say; his opponent was gone in a flash, and Sheridan after him, shouting out: "Stop that man! stop that man!" but the General's legs were not equal to the race, and the boy succeeded in getting to the camp, where, of course, it was impossible to find him. The rest of us slipped away as quietly and quickly as possible to our quarters, carrying with us the results of our search. But we laughed and laughed at the remembrance of it; who the boy was, that had so wilfully violated one of the sternest of army laws, that of striking his superior officer, we never found out, but we think he belonged to the 52nd Ohio, which regiment, as we have before stated, was brigaded with us. We would like to have been at Sheridan's headquarters, and heard his account of the affair, but perhaps he never Before we reached Nashville we had received reports of how hard run the citizens of the place were for groceries, more especially coffee, and had heard remarkable stories of the prices paid for such articles. So we had been saving of our rations, thinking, perhaps, that when we arrived at Nashville, we could realize something for them. We had grown tired of hardtack, and visions of warm bread, butter, etc., floated through our minds. So to saving we went; but as a true chronicler, we must state that some of the boys did not show that true honesty which ought to pervade all business transactions, but had been boiling their coffee without grinding it, and afterwards drying it, and storing it away in their haversacks, blankets, or any way they could, so when we finally reached Nashville, there was a considerable quantity of this article in the regiment. The next day after our arrival, the writer and his partner, obtained a pass to go to the city. Tying up our coffee, which, by the way, made a considerable package, we started on our trip. We arrived in the city without any trouble, and as we were walking up a street, was accosted by a woman who wished to know if we had any coffee for sale. We instantly showed our stock, and informed her that she could have it at the rate of one dollar per pound. This seemed in our eyes an outrageous price, but she closed with our terms, and after weighing it in a store near by, paid us for it in good greenbacks. We do not remember, at this late day, how much it was we received, but we pocketed it, all the same, and started out to find a place where we could obtain a square meal. This was a difficult task, for most all the stores and restaurants were closed, but at last we managed to find a little store open, and in we went. We enquired for something to eat; the proprietor informed us, a fact which we could plainly see for ourselves, that his stock had run down somewhat, owing to the difficulties of obtaining a new supply, and the best he could do for us, he said, was to offer us some tripe, which "What'll you take for a loaf?" was the enquiry. "Ten cents a loaf," was the reply. The consequence was that we did not go far until our bread was all gone at double the price we had paid for it. We then concluded to go back and get some for ourselves, but here was where we missed it, for on our again apply-for bread, we were told it was all gone, and no more could be had. We had contemplated having a good supper out of that light bread, which was of good quality, but we had foolishly let our desire for speculation run away with our supper. There was nothing left for us to do but return to camp without any, so away we went, cheering ourselves with the thought that if we had no bread, we had some money, which, as we had never yet been paid off by the Government, was something to be glad of. |