he had ‘just left’ every spot they reached.
Men in grey were in abundance, discussing the fight, but no mounted officer could be seen.
Civilians were joking with the rebel soldiers about the misfortunes of the Union
troops, and negro slaves were coming up with horses to bury the Southern
Soon a mounted officer rode by and the lieutenant inquired for a mounted officer to receive the flag of truce.
As the officer rode off, a rebel soldier, picking up a gun, asked the lieutenant what kind of a thing it was. He was told that it was an Austrian rifle.
he asked passing over another.
‘That's an Enfield,’ was the lieutenant's reply.
‘Well, this is the best,’ said the inquisitor, patting a Springfield, ‘if the d—d Yankees did make it,’ and then he offered the lieutenant a ‘chaw’ of tobacco.
While this conversation was progressing, a mounted officer appeared, and, in an insolent tone, said to Lieut. Dodge
, ‘Ain't you a d—d Yank
‘I'm a Yankee,’ he responded.
‘What do you want here?’
told the nature of his errand, but the officer seemed to doubt him. Several of the men, however, came to his aid, exclaiming, ‘Oh, we know all about it. The adjutant of the Seventeenth Mississippi called out for an officer to come over under a flag of truce, and we saw this officer come over.’
‘Where are your credentials?’
asked the officer.
‘I have none’ responded Lieut. Dodge
, ‘in our army the word
of an officer is sufficient.’
‘How in h— do we know you're an officer?’
Stepping on a small stone near by, the lieutenant drew himself up to his full height (five feet, three inches), jerked the blanket from his shoulders and replied as gruffly as he could, pointing to his shoulder straps.
‘There are my credentials’— and then turned his back upon the rebel officer, who rode away, growling: ‘Well, you ought to have credentials.’
Shortly after this, Lieut. Dodge
was met by Lieut. Tyler
, of the Seventh Mississippi, who, during a friendly chat, dammed