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Bowling Green (Indiana, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.33
I looked back and saw some reckless cavalryman had ridden over Old Hines, bag and baggage. Old Hines scrambled to his feet and said I'll be durned, that was all. I was avenged. Old Hines Court-Martialed. While in winter quarters, near Bowling Green, Caroline county, Old Hines was court-martialed. When Christmas day dawned upon us Old Hines was missing. No one could tell when or whither he had gone; his plunder had vanished, too. Some said his mess-mates had killed him in revenge for dancing out the fire and for washing his face in the bread-tray, which was one of his amusements; others said he had deserted. Several days elapsed and no tidings of the lost one. At length word came from Bowling Green that Old Hines had rented the best room in the hotel there, and was living like a lord. A guard was dispatched for him, and he was found in his room in the hotel, seated before a roaring fire with a bottle of apple brandy on one side and a box of cigars on the other. This was
Fredericksburg, Va. (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.33
ets flew thicker, Old Hines' spirits arose in proportion, he would ply his needle with greater industry and sing Shoo, Fly with redoubled energy. Hines and Fredericksburg. Old Hines and Fredericksburg, the grotesque and dramatic, are inseparably linked in my memory. When the fogs lifted from the banks of the Rappahannock thFredericksburg, the grotesque and dramatic, are inseparably linked in my memory. When the fogs lifted from the banks of the Rappahannock the grandest battle-scene ever witnessed on this continent was revealed. The broad plain, level as a floor, stretching from the river to the position held by Lee and extending for miles to the right and left was literally blackened by the advancing lines of battle of Burnside's splendid army. In our front, covering the left flank cted their left flank, while Stuart's cavalry hovered in their front and protected our right. Far as the vision could extend to our left in the direction of Fredericksburg the blue-coated divisions were advancing to the attack, while the sun's rays glanced from ranks bright with steel, with flashing swords and glistening bayonet
Vesuvius (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.33
re blown up, guns dismounted, and the earth rocks and trembles to the hoarse bellowing of artillery. On our left the long, rolling volleys of musketry told that Burnside was grappling with Lee's matchless infantry, to be hurled back again and again in defeat and death. And then that crashing, deafening sound—like the roar of some mighty conflagration—a thousand buildings toppling and falling into volcanoes of fire, the forked tongues of light. ning that blast and wither and burn. Hecla, Vesuvius and Aetns vomiting fire and smoke and death. And then that yell, louder, louder and nearer, that told of battle lost and victory won. Silence, silence alas for the fallen brave. A cool proceeding. I turned and looked to the rear of the battery, on the top of a perfect pyramid of overcoats, blankets, knapsacks and frying pans, Old Hines was seated, with his legs crossed, tailor-fashion, sewing away for dear life, and right in the range of a dozen batteries. I had very improvidentl
Caroline (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.33
g by my gun I passed Old Hines, trudging along under a pile of plunder towering at least six feet above his head. He reminded me of the pictures of Atlas with the world on his shoulders. In a few minutes I heard a tremendous crash. I looked back and saw some reckless cavalryman had ridden over Old Hines, bag and baggage. Old Hines scrambled to his feet and said I'll be durned, that was all. I was avenged. Old Hines Court-Martialed. While in winter quarters, near Bowling Green, Caroline county, Old Hines was court-martialed. When Christmas day dawned upon us Old Hines was missing. No one could tell when or whither he had gone; his plunder had vanished, too. Some said his mess-mates had killed him in revenge for dancing out the fire and for washing his face in the bread-tray, which was one of his amusements; others said he had deserted. Several days elapsed and no tidings of the lost one. At length word came from Bowling Green that Old Hines had rented the best room in the
Stafford Court House (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.33
dancing in the air, dashed up with Pelham closely followed by the staff. Then was executed a novel manoeuvre to us—a charge of artillery upon artillery. Cannoneers scrambled on guns and caissons, and under lash and spur the whole battalion thundered across that field and took position in pistol range of the enemy's batteries. Then commenced the fiercest and longest sustained artillery duel of the war, prolonged as it was away into the night. The great guns of the enemy posted on the Stafford heights across the river, began a terrific cannonade, firing over the heads of their advancing troops, and now the batteries in our front and our own joined in the orchestra of battle. On left, on right and in centre cannon growled and grumbled and roared like wild beasts for their prey. Cannon speaks to cannon, growl answers growl, roar answers roar—an inferno of wild beasts. Shot and shell, shrapnel and cannister whizz and shriek and rend and tear. Trees are battered and torn to pieces; h
Maine (Maine, United States) (search for this): chapter 1.33
e or shirked a fight, but he never did any fighting. When the fighting commenced he would begin to hunt for plunder all over the field. No danger daunted him, nothing came amiss in the way of clothing or camp equipage; friend and foe fared alike. Gathering up his booty he would seat himself on the ground in the most exposed situation near the battery, and calmly proceed to overhauling and mending the overcoats and other garments he had picked up, singing the while Shoo, Fly, Don't Bother Me. The thunder of artillery and rattle of musketry were nothing to Old Hines. Guns dismounted, caissons blown up in thirty yards of him were matters of indifference. If a shell burst very near him, Old Hines would cock up his eye, give a vigorous shake of the head, troll out Shoo, Fly, Don't Bother Me, and proceed to sew on a button or mend a rent place in the garment. A useful non-combatant. While Old Hines never did any fighting, he was useful; he was an inspiration and a perpetual joy
John Pelham (search for this): chapter 1.33
ted in a road before going into action. I looked to the right, and there, a few yards from the road, seated on the ground, was Old Hines with his pack close by. He had made up a fire, taken off his shoes, turned his back to the panorama, and was slicing off huge hunks of corn dodger, which were disappearing in his capacious jaws. A notable artillery duel. Just then there was a commotion on our right. Stuart, the Prince of Cavalrymen, his black plume dancing in the air, dashed up with Pelham closely followed by the staff. Then was executed a novel manoeuvre to us—a charge of artillery upon artillery. Cannoneers scrambled on guns and caissons, and under lash and spur the whole battalion thundered across that field and took position in pistol range of the enemy's batteries. Then commenced the fiercest and longest sustained artillery duel of the war, prolonged as it was away into the night. The great guns of the enemy posted on the Stafford heights across the river, began a ter
ne ever witnessed on this continent was revealed. The broad plain, level as a floor, stretching from the river to the position held by Lee and extending for miles to the right and left was literally blackened by the advancing lines of battle of Burnside's splendid army. In our front, covering the left flank of the advancing Federal infantry, were massed the field-batteries of the enemy, which we were soon to engage, long lines of cavalry protected their left flank, while Stuart's cavalry hovemaimed and mangled, are struggling in dumb agony over dead and dying men; caissons are blown up, guns dismounted, and the earth rocks and trembles to the hoarse bellowing of artillery. On our left the long, rolling volleys of musketry told that Burnside was grappling with Lee's matchless infantry, to be hurled back again and again in defeat and death. And then that crashing, deafening sound—like the roar of some mighty conflagration—a thousand buildings toppling and falling into volcanoes of f
Peter Hines (search for this): chapter 1.33
ceed to sew on a button or mend a rent place in the garment. A useful non-combatant. While Old Hines never did any fighting, he was useful; he was an inspiration and a perpetual joy to those who did. Everybody knew him-cavalry, infantry and artillery, all smiled when Old Hines took up his position. As the fighting grew heavier and the bullets flew thicker, Old Hines' spirits arose in proportion, he would ply his needle with greater industry and sing Shoo, Fly with redoubled energy. Hines and Fredericksburg. Old Hines and Fredericksburg, the grotesque and dramatic, are inseparably linked in my memory. When the fogs lifted from the banks of the Rappahannock the grandest battle-scene ever witnessed on this continent was revealed. The broad plain, level as a floor, stretching from the river to the position held by Lee and extending for miles to the right and left was literally blackened by the advancing lines of battle of Burnside's splendid army. In our front, covering th
Henry S. Carter (search for this): chapter 1.33
t length word came from Bowling Green that Old Hines had rented the best room in the hotel there, and was living like a lord. A guard was dispatched for him, and he was found in his room in the hotel, seated before a roaring fire with a bottle of apple brandy on one side and a box of cigars on the other. This was too much for a Confederate soldier—even for Old Hines. He was marched back to camp under the guard. In a few days he was hauled up before a court-martial then sitting. Major Henry S. Carter, a tobacconist, now of our city, then an officer of the Third Howitzers, was one of the court. Charges and specifications having been preferred, Old Hines arose, and with a wave of the hand, said: Gemmen, I don't make no practice of leaving camp, but I allus keeps Christmas—I allus does. This was the longest speech Old Hines had ever been known to make, and it electrified the court. He was sentenced to remain in camp one week, and wear suspended around his neck a board on which wa
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