that I packed my old jacket — now fastened together with wooden pins — full, and as it settled down crowded in more.
We drank so much coffee that we were nearly intoxicated.
We cheered the boys who had provided so well for us, and started for Wilmington
We did not march, but hobbled along as best we could, anxious to get as far as possible from the rebels.
We clung to our instruments, and carried the big base viol by turns.
It was my turn to carry it, and McGinnis
and I started down the railroad.
We had gone but a short distance when we met an officer, who asked me where I got the big fiddle.
I told him I had played it in church before I enlisted; that I carried it with me when I left home and had it on picket; was in the middle of a tune when the rebels came on me, and as I could not stop playing was captured.
The man looked at me and said, “I believe that's a d — d lie.”
“Well,” I said, “you have a right to think so,” and we moved along.
I do not remember what became of the instrument.
Arriving at Wilmington
, we were collected together and rations were served.
Here we were placed under guard to prevent our eating too much, but we would capture the rations each side of us and fill our pockets.
As soon as we had eaten all we could, we would pass out, and in half an hour try to flank in again.
The sanitary commission were on hand with barrels of weak milk punch and gave us all we wanted; as we wanted everything to eat or drink that we saw we destroyed large quantities of it. While standing on the street an officer rode up whom I recognized as Col. Henry A. Hale
, formerly a captain in my regiment.
He was serving on the staff of the general commanding the department.
He took me to a gunboat in the river and