Rambling Anecdotes

Masonic bonds

It never ceases to amaze me the things one Mason will do for another. Here's an example:

Lietuenant Tinkham was among the many brave men who were killed at the second battle of Corinth. It appears that Lieutenant Timkham was not seriously wounded when the rebels took possession of that part of the field where he fell, but was only shot through the leg; and as the Union boys were contesting the advance of the enemy with desperate bravery, Lieutenant Tinkham raised himself upon his elbow to see the fighting, when another leaden messenger pierced his body, and he fell to the ground again. Seeing that he soon must be numbered among the slain, and that his life blood was fast flowing out, he made some sign to a passing rebel - which was said to be a Masonic sign of recognition - who immediately came to Tinkham's side, and rendered him all the assistance in his power. Just before the Lieutenant expired, he handed the rebel his watch and some money, with instruction to forward it to his family the first opportunity he had, - and in a few moments after saying this he expired. The rebel now pinned a small piece of paper on Tinkham's coat, stating his name and company, and left him. In this condition he was found by his company and by them buried. Time rolled on, and on the fourth of July, 1863, thirty-five thousand rebels surrendered to the victorious Federal army at Vicksburg, and among that vast multitude was to be found Lieutenant Tinkham's rebel friend - all honor to him! - eagerly searching for the Fourteenth Wisconsin Regiment. This he at last discovered, and, safely delivering the watch and money to one of its members, disappeared among the throng. The articles were duly received by the Lieutenant's friends. What it is to have an honest foe.

Tinkham is Lieutenant Samuel A. Tinkham of the 14th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry. As for the Rebel, his name was lost in the dustbin of history.
 
C'mon along now...

Not quite the British Bobby you've seen in Monty Python, but here's an early war speech given by Confederate General Wise who, from East Virginia, was attempting to rally men to him for his foray into Confederate West Virginia:

"Come and join me; bring a musket; if you have no musket; bring a rifle; if no rifle, a shotgun; if no shotgun, a pistol; no pistol, a gate hinge; no gate hinge, by God bring an India rubber shoe, but come."

Now those are words that will stir any stout hearted man to action.:D
For all his bravado, Wise rushed off and fought McClellan at Scarey Creek and got whupped. He retreated down the same road he had advanced on and called for General Floyd to meet with him. General Floyd did. Wise asked Floyd where he was going.

"Down that road."
"What are you going to do, Floyd?"
"Fight."

If looks could kill, Wise was annihilated. Without saying another word, Floyd rose, bowed and left. Floyd rode on, whupped the Yankees in a small fight and realizing that he had stirred a hornet's nest that was now coming down upon him, summoned Wise to join him. Wise never did. Outnumbered 3:1, Floyd was forced back. Enough history.
 
More uses of the garden snail

"A good water for consumption...

"Take a peck of green garden snails, wash them in Bear(beer) put them in an oven and let them stay till they've done crying; then with a knife and fork prick the green from them, and beat the snail shells and all in a stone mortar. Then take a quart of green earth-worms, slice them and beat them, the pot being first put into the still with two handulls of angelico, a quart of rosemary flowers, then the snails and worms, the egrimoney, bears feet, red dock roots, barbery rue tumerick and one ounce of saffron, well dried and beaten. Then power (pour) in three gallons of milk. Wait till morning, then put in three ounces of cloves (well beaten), hartshorn, grated. Keep the still covered all night. This done, stir it not. Distill with a moderate fire. The patient must take two spoonfuls at all times."
 
You will see them again... and I hope shortly.

"The house we were defending faced all the batteries of Bayonne looking to the north and the Citadel stared it in the face... Here we mustered the Company... about thirty only remaining. That rascal Notting called up Schauroth and myself, the Youngest officer, and desired me to enter the house with fifteen men while he stood behind to assist in the yard with Schauroth (Notting was the writer's captain).

"Putting the Serjeant and six men in the left room and four in each of the others, I superinteded the whole and began by firing the first shot myself. My poor fellows did their utmost. I lost two killed from the centre room and one in [the] right hand one. In about two hours more I had sent two wounded away from the left and had one more killed in the Centre. Just at this time the French poured in grape at us and one or two forty-eight pounders which filled the rooms with mortar dust and we fired back at random... Just then a violent scream from the next room, with a thundering noise announced the corners of the house being blown down... I ran out to keep the men in; and as I turned to the right I bawled into the yard, 'Send up some more men.' But my eyes were so full of dust that I could see no one and the noise was so great, perhaps, that they could not hear.

"I had just at this time the narrowest escape of all. I was leaning agains the wall opposite the Centre room, rubbing my eyes and collecting my senses, so horrible was the noise, when the Serjeant from the [other] room tapped me on the shoulder, saying, 'Sir, Martin is shot in the head.'

"I had not taken two steps to the left to proceed to the room when an immense sixty-eight pounder poured through the the house and made a large hole enough to jump through in the very spot I had that instant left.

"My men were now so few that I saw it would be useless. However I returned to the Centre room where Lather alone was, and after firing till my shoulder was black and blue, the French poured in so strongly upon us that I began to think of leaving the house as the Serjeant had advised me.

"The two corners of the house were laid open and near one hundred and thirty cannons pointing at us. My men were reduced from fifteen to five and the Serjeant. And I was just making up my mind when a confusion as if heaven and earth were in contact suddenly came over me. The roof fell in and buried the whole of us.

"As Lather and myself were in the middle place, we fell together. My left elbow was so nearly smashed that I carry my arm in a sling. The Shoe-maker's head was actually scalped and when I groped into the yard like a miller the Captain says, 'I thought you was killed... Where is the Company?'

'You will see them again,' I answered, 'and I hope shortly.'

'Why, where are they, then, Sir?'

'Gone to hell!'"
 
It's a miracle!

In the blackpowder days, the skill of a surgeon varied. Some "apprenticed" for a few years under another "surgeon" while others actually attended a medical college. Soldiers who saw the regimental surgeon during the Civil War were prescribed all sorts of medicine including the famous blue pill. Here's a case of a miraculous recovery without assistance from the regimental surgeon.

"One of the boys in the 2nd mess, Jaber Blackmer, lost his voice and was excused for several weeks from guard duty. But one unlucky night for him, he got to dreaming and talked as plain as any man in the mess. Some of the boys heard him talking and reported him, and from that time forth he had to do his duty the same as the rest of us."

Darn if that wasn't short of a miracle!

Now, that company was commanded by Capt. Scribner and the author tells us of his misadventures too:

"Captain Scribner had a good deal of trouble with his men. Some were in the guard-house about all the time. Some were fond of whiskey, and would contrive all ways to get it. He seemed to have a particular grudge against one named Sullivan; he told him he would put him in the guard-house and keep him there almost forever. One day he was drilling them in the manual of loading and firing. He told them he would put every man in the guard-house if they didn't do just as he wanted they should. He told them to load - aim- aim higher; about one half mistook the order for aim - fire and fired. It was fun to see the Dutchman rave and storm, using language not generally heard on drill. More of the men were put into the guard-house."
 
Repelling a Confederate amphibious assault - single handedly

Here's the tale of an unsung Union Hero as told by one of his regimental comrades:

"We had several members who were troubled with an optical illusion - especially in the night when on guard. They could see millions of boats, loaded to their utmost capacity with rebels armed to the teeth crossing the river to massacre us, advance, take Washington, and subdue the North. Just at the critical moment, when the Nation's life hung by a thread, he would fire. The Corporal with a file of men would double quick to his post to find out the cause. He would relate what he saw; but the dull eyes of the Corporal could see nothing but the running water on it's [sic] way to the sea. The next week an extract of the heroic soldiers letter would appear in the Westboro paper, through the kindness of friends, giving the details of the Nation's narrow escape through his vigilence." :D
 
Fatherly advice from an olde soldier...

“A woodsman who was noted as a ‘crack shot’ among his hunting companions felt sure he was going to win fame as a select rifleman in the army; for he said that in killing a squirrel he always put the bullet through the head, though the squirrel might be perched at the time on the topmost limb of the tallest tree. An Irishman who had seen service in the Mexican War, and was attentively listening to this young hunter’s boast, fixed his twinkling eye upon the aspiring rifleman and said to him: ‘Yes; but Dan, me boy, ye must ricollict that the squirrel had no gon in his hand to shoot back at ye.’ The young huntsman had not thought about that; but he doubtless found later on, as the marksmen of both armies did, that it made a vast difference in the accuracy of aim when those in front not only had ‘gons’ in their hands but were firing them with distracting rapidity. This rude Irish philosopher had explained in a sentence one cause of the wild and aimless firing which wasted more tons of lead in a battle than all its dead victims would weigh.”
 
From the pen of a soldier of the 114th New York Volunteer seving in Bayou Boeuf, LA.

"Friend... I am a Democrat; proud of my party. Proud of its success, its history, and its acts, but am no poltroon, fettering myself with the shackles of party when my country turns her bleeding hands to me and asks for my aid. He that calls himself a Democrat, and yet basely cries, Piece [sic] at any price! Peace with tarnished honor! Peace with the flag trailed in the dust! Peace when all we hold dear is threatened - when our promises to the world are falsified and our government is shaken to its very center, is a liar and a coward, and to such men, whether at home or in the foeman's ranks, I throw my gauntlet and are them to touch it. I have the steel for them that I have for the deepest traitor in Jeff Davis's ranks. If any one of them cries 'quit" from a mistaken sense of kindness to us, he little knows the temper of our boys or the mettle they are made of..."

This was dated March 24, 1863 and may be found in R. L. Murray's, "Madison County Troops in the Civil War," as published by Benedum Books.
 
When your nation calls... or this Bud's for you!

Departures of soldiers for service is always sorrowful for those left behind. Amid the fanfare of uniforms and martial music, it doesn't matter what country or culture, it's always been a tearful event. Here's an incident involving the 108th New York Volunteer Infantry as it left for the front. I give you your Bullwinkle Choice: (if you're old enough to remember how each episode of Bullwinkle ended): When your nation calls or This Bud's for you!

"It was a sad parting of the soldier boys from home and friends, that many were never to see again; but the last good bye was said, and amid deafening cheers the train moved slowl out of the depot. As the last car reached the river bridge, a portly German, with eye glasses upon his nose, a drawn sword in his right hand, and a foaming glass of beer in his left, rushed franctically after it shouting. "Stop dot train! Got in himmel, you have left der captain of Company I."
 
Cadet mischief

"When in the hospital, a very hot day in the summer of 1846, clad in my shirt sleeves, and white cadet pants, I was on the front porch. I saw a cadet coming down the walk; he stopped under an apple tree loaded with green apples, and took a seat on the grass. I went into the passage leading to my ward, and threw myself into a rocking chair and was soon enjoying a delightful siesta. I was awakened by footsteps in the hall. The hall intruder was the same short plebe I had seen take his seat under the apple tree, and he had both hands pressed on his abdomen. I at once saw a chance for fun. He had mistaken me for the doctor. I started from my chair, assuming the most ferocious look I could put on, and said, 'What is your name?' 'Brown,' he answered. 'Plebe Brown,' I said, 'have you studied the Academic regulations?' He answered, 'Not much.' 'So, I supposed,' I replied; 'if you had done your duty you would have informed yourself that it is a dismissable offense to awaken the chief surgeon of this post when taking his evening nap. What is the matter with you, sir?' 'Oh, doctor, my belly! my belly!' "Let me see your tongue; let me feel your pulse.'

"Starting back, I said, 'Plebe Brown, you have been eating green apples.' This he denied. I said, 'Don't tell a falsehood; every beat of your pulse to the skilful surgeon says, 'Green apples! Green apples! Now, sir, tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; how many green apples did you eat?' After some hesitation he said, 'I suppose about my cap full.' I started back, exclaiming, 'About a cap full! Plebe Brown, the only way I can save your life is to cut your abdomen open and take out those green apples. Come with me to the dispersary. Sit on that chair.'"

...to be continued.:D
In our next installment, you'll find out what devious things the "surgeon" did to Plebe Brown. I'll also divulge the culprit and his place in history.
 
Conclusion of the last post

Our story continues...

"I found a case of surgical instruments, took them out of the case and examined them. Browning was turning very plae. I said to him, 'Plebe Brown, I regret very much I can't cut you open now, as both my assistant surgeon and steward are absent, and I find I will need their assistance to hld you and keep you from wriggling. Brown," I said, "Do you think I could trust you not to wriggle?" Brown siad he was afraid he would wriggle. "Yes," I said, feeling his pulse, "I find you are a wriggler, and though I am disappointed not to cut you open, I will defer the operation for the present, and see the effect of medicine. If the medicine does not relieve you, come here after sick call tomorrow morning and I will ahve my assistant surgeon and steward here and proceed to cut."

"I mixed in a pretty large glass some of every medicine on the shelves which I knew not to be poisonous - castor oil, sweet oil, epsom salts, common table salt, and red pepper I remember were some of the ingredients. I told Mr. Brown that I would excuse him from drill and evening parade, on one condition, that he was not to bother me any more that day, nor was he to come to sick call next morning. I was afraid of his seeing the real doctor and being exposed.

"I made Mr. Brown drink every drop in the glass. I watched him as he went up the walk leading to the encampment. He had not gone a hundred yards when he stopped, laid hold of the fence on the side of the walk, and I though before he got through, he would throw up everything inside of him. When the steward, my friend Stoddard, returned I told him what I had done and he excused Mr. Brown according to my promise. Brown never put in an appearance again."

Note: Frances G. Brown of Ohio never did graduate.

The culprit was West Point Cadet Henry Heth who later became a Confederate major-general commanding a division in A. P. Hill's Corps. His men were the ones who first wandered into Gettysburg and initiated combat that day.
 
One tough Indian who gave it his best...

"In the early settlement of Alabama, there lived on the south side of the Tennessee River, in Jackson County, opposite to where Scottsboro now stands, a couple of Creek Indians, who had built a little hut near Coffee's trading store and suported themselves by hunting. One of thse, called by the whites Creek John, was an excellent hunter, and always returned from the mountain loaded with peltries. late one evening he came down the mountain from a hunt, and instead of going directly to his hut, he stooped to get a drink. While in this posture an immense panther leaped from an overhanging rock on his prostrate form, and a desperate struggle ensued at once. The Indian being taken unawares, as placed at a great disadvantage, and the panther inflicted fearful damage on him before he could get out his long hunting knife; this he plied vigorously on his adversary, but it was too late to save his life. His abdomen was torn across by the animal's claws, and the muscles of his chest stripped to the ribs, while the blood flowed from other wounds. Yet he drove his long knife into the panther so vigorously that it was compelled to let him go and make off the field, leaving him victor of the despeate battle, but mortally wounded. He managed to drag himself to his hut, one hundred yards distant, where his companion, coming in a little later, found him in the agonies of death. The panther was tracked the next morning, by his bloody trail, to a ledge of rocks a short distance off, and found start and stiff, showing he had been dead some hours. He proved to be the largest specimen of his kind ever killed in that country. Creek John's Knife had passed through him in several places from side to side, showing the strength and vigor with which it was plied. With an equal advantage, there is no doubt but that the Indian would have escaped with his life."

One heckuva story.
 
Bear hunting made easy...

Here's an incident that happened after the Mother of American Family Feuds, the Late Unpleasantry Between States (1861-65):

"One night while a party was up after a load of logs, a black bear came into camp and got into a bean kettle that had been left standing about since breakfast. The bear evidently liked beans because he continued eating until he got to the bottom of the kettle, but by that time he had gotten his head so far inside that he could not get it out. About that time, he was discovered by the men and they had lots of fun with that bear with the camp kettle over his head. Being blinded, he did not know which way to retreat. One moment he would strike out in one direction and then, hearing a voice, would conclude to go in another, about the same as a cat will do if you blind her. We finally got tired of the fun and shot him and took him back to camp the next day."
 
Sounds familiar?

"I expect you will have some high times this fall. I some times think I would like to be there. Then I think perhaps it would not be so well, for a soldier in such times is very apt to get his feelings hurt by the remarks and actions of the home traitors. For it fairly makes my blood boil to read their speeches, let alone hearing a man uttering such traitorous sentiments. It would tempt a man to chastise such a person on the spot and then he would get into trouble. This is one reason why I would not like to be there during those exciting times. But there is no use of their trying for they are bound to be beat, they cannot win the day even by their secret and traitorous acts. They will go down to political perdition and all the sins of a traitor to his country will be brought against them to their entire condemnation."

This was written by a Civil War Yankee in the 83rd Ohio to his sister in Oct. 2, 1864. The November Presidential Elections was coming up and Abe Lincoln's grip on office was not seen as favorable. The Democrats under Maj. Gen. McClellan were talking of making peace with the Confederacy. Lincoln himself was worried as no president had been reelected since Andrew Jackson.

Still, it sounds very much like the position that we're in today, doesn't it? :) Hystery repeats itself.:p
 
True love was never better expressed...

In Collin's "Historical Sketches of Kentucky" about Lawrenceburg, Kentucky in Anderson County, he states that Lawrenceburg was first settled by an old Dutchman by the name of Coffman, who was killed by the Indians. When his good wife first heard of his melancholy fate, she exclaimed in the bitterness of her affliction, "I always told my old man that these savage Ingens would kill him; and I'd rather lost my best cow at the pail than my old man." Not even the bard Shakespeare could express love in a truer form.:p
 
Stripping for the ladies

"An order was issued from headquarters, forbidding any person wearing U. S. clothing (blue) that did not belong to the army, and authorizing the provost guard to strip any such person of all such clothing. The 20th was at this time doing provost duty. The boys used to go for such persons lively. One day, walking down main street, they saw a gent coming, with a lady on each arm. He had one of our blue blouses and a military vest. The boys asked the officer in charge what they should do. "Follow orders, of course." So they ordered the gent to strip, but he showed fight, inspired by the presence of the ladies. The boys knocked him down, and stripped him of his coat and vest, and left him to escort his ladies in his shirt sleeves."

In another incident, we learn, "On another occasion, they stripped a man of his pants also, leaving him in a still more unpresentable condition."

I know war is hell, but that's a helluva way to wage war on civilians.
 
Deth to all ablishners!

In conducting research, I've come across numerous examples of phonetic spelling. After a while, you get use to it and it becomes part of the "charm" of finding some obscure letter or book. Being more fortunate in having a dictionary which I should add that I should avail myself of with greater frequency, I don't sit in judgment of the writer. However, I came across one example of someone who, understandably because of the war, was less generous. I share this tidbit from over a century ago:

"Lieut. Borland sent home to the True Democrat an interesting relic from Fort Henry. It was an 'Arkansas tooth-pick,' being a knife about one foot long, made from an old rasp, and enclosed in a leather sheath, on which was rudely printed the words - 'deth to all ablishners.' I judge from the spelling that the schoolmasters had already been killed off in Arkansas.":D
 
Killed by a rabbit (almost a Bugs Bunny story)

"[O]ur regiment was ordered to double quick across Bull Run, and charge a battery that had been shelling us for the last twenty-four hours. We had not advanced more than half the distance before the order came to lie flat on the ground, our colonel having learned that there were more than thousands of Yankees between us and the battery. Young James Manning stood behind a tree instead of obeying orders, and a solid cannon ball, weighing twelve pounds, suddenly cut the tree int two, and his body was literally cut in two. He was the first of our company killed.

Many of our men witnessed the shocking sight, among these being the captain of a company from Wilson Co., who was a Methodist preacher. During the disaster a rabbit was frightened from its hiding place, and running about at last jumped with all force against this captain's side. He whirled over, and cried that a ball had killed him, and begged that his body be sent home. He was told that nothing had touched him but a rabbit, but he did his best to die. Failing in that effort, he disappeared.

"It was a most natural thing, after the war was over, for this to be the subject of conversation. In the summer of 1868, I met some very pleasant gentlemen on the train and entered into conversation with them. One of them asked me what command I was in, and when I told him, he asked me if I remembered anything of the rabbit scrape at Manassas, to which I responded in the affirmative, laughing heartily. He said, 'Young man, that preacher is still living, but the rabbit affair will live long after he is gone.'"
 
The unfaithful fiance, or wed or be dead.

Army of the Potomac Commander Maj. Gen. Ambrose Burnsides was an unlucky man. He was whupped at Fredericksburg by Lee and then when he tried to outflank Lee a while later, the heavens poured rained upon him, slowing his army down to a crawl in what is now known as the mud march. Shortly afterwards, he was sacked and replaced by Fighting Joe Hooker.

Even in civilian life young Burnsides was unlucky. He courted one young lady and you can see how that went (thank you Ranger Don Pfanz):

Bad luck was something of a theme in young Burnside’s life. One tradition has it that he became engaged to a young lady from Ohio, but when the minister asked the flighty young woman if she would take Ambrose to be her husband, she replied, “No, sirree, Bob, I won’t,” and fled the room.

(The story goes that this same woman became engaged to another man a short time later. The man apparently had heard about his fiancée’s earlier engagement, for as the wedding began he drew a pistol from its holster, showed it to his bride, and announced that there would be “a wedding tonight or a funeral tomorrow.” This time, the woman fulfilled her pledge.) :eek:

Burnsides did marry and after the war, was the first president of the NRA.
 
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