Four or five members of Company H, Fifth Mississippi, while lying in the trenches around Atlanta in 1864, had a brief respite one morning from the annoying shot and shell. We had got a large lot of biscuits, and expected to have a fine time of it in enjoying the unusual banquet. But human hopes often deceive us. While we were sitting a la Turk on a blanket, pitching into the biscuits, and old Tommie R--, a long, lean specimen of Rebeldom, was stretching out his bony arms for the biggest one in the pile, a minnie ball took off a piece of his head as big as a five-dollar confederate note, and pitched him over upon our stock of biscuits. George H-- jerked at him and cried out: "Damn it, boys, don't let the old man bleed on the biscuits."
F.J.MASON.
Miss Pussy Whitty, of Missouri, a plucky and fearless girl of 19, did many acts of daring to decoy the Federals into the hands of her father's company. She went many nights in rain and snow to pilot small bands of Southern patriots and often carried baskets of provisions to the brush to feed the Confederates while recruiting in her State. In the summer of 1863 she rode sixty miles in the night to carry news to the intrepid Quantrell.
When General Butler was in command at New Orleans, during "the war," he was informed that Father Murphy had said he would even refuse to hold funeral service for his soldiers. General Butler sent for him in haste, and began roundly scolding him for expressing such un-Christian and rebellious sentiments. "General," the priest answered, "you have been misinformed. Nothing would afford me greater pleasure than to perform the funeral service over you and all your soldiers."
This is one of Gen. Gordon's stories: In the Confederate army Longstreet's corps was making a night march. About 3 or 4 o'clock in the morning when everyone was tired and worn out, a Georgia regiment stopped. A Georgia soldier put his rifle up against the tents on the other side of where Longstreet was. "Well," he said, "this is pretty hard--to fight all day and march all night. But I suppose I can do it for my country." He continued: "I can go hungry, I can fight; if need be I can die for my country, because I love my country; but when this war is over I'll be blowed if I'll ever love another country.
Christian Register
A Wounded Confederate Harder Hit in the Hospital Than on the Field.
During the summer of 1864, while the hospitals of Richmond were crowded with wounded, the ladies of the city visited them daily, carrying with them delicacies of every kind and vied with each other in their efforst to comfort and cheer up the wounded. On one ocasion a bright-eyed damsel of about seventeen summers was distributing flowers and speaking tender words of encouragement to those around her, when she overheard a young officer who was suffering from his wounds exclaim: "Oh, my Lord!" Approaching him rather timidly, in order to rebuke his profanity, she said: "I think I heard you call upon the name of the Lord. I am one of his daughters. Is there anything I can ask him for you?" A hasty glance upon her lovely face and perfect form caused his countenance to brighten, as he instantly replied: "Yes, please ask Him to make me His son-in-law."
Hugh Mc--, a son of the Emerald Isle, who had volunteered in the 6th South Carolina infantry, was stationed on the beach of Sullivan's Island with strict orders to let no one pass him without the countersign, and that to be communicated only in a whisper, Tow hours later the corporal, with the relief, discovered by the moonlight Hugh, up to his waist in water, the tide having set in since he was posted.
"Who goes there?" the sentinel shouted.
"Relief."
"Halt relief. Advance corporal and give the countersign."
"I'm not going in there to be drowned," replied the corporal. "Come out here and let me relieve you."
"Divil a bit of it." returned Hugh. "The leftenant toald me not to lave me post."
"Well, then, " replied the corporal, "I'll leave you in the water all night," and he turned as he spoke.
But the sentinel's gun was promptly cocked and levelled.
"Halt. I'll put a hole in you ef ye pass without the countersign. Them's me orders from the leftenant."
"Confound you," cried the corporal, "everybody will hear it if I bawl it out to you."
"Yes, me darlin," rejoined Hugh, "and the leftenant said it must be given in a whisper. In with yes. Me finger's on the trigger and me gun may go off."
The corporal yielded to this and waded in to the faithful sentinel, who exclaimed: "Be jabbers, it's well you've come-the bloody tide has most drowned me."