L. P. Brockett, The camp, the battlefield, and the hospital: or, lights and shadows of the great rebellion

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“Well, sir, I perceive that you thoroughly appreciate the art of war, and have become a veteran in half a year. Were you a green soldier I should order you under arrest, and have you court-martialed; but, on account of your veteran proclivities, I shall recommend you for promotion!” and putting spurs to his horse he rode away, shaking his sides with laughter.

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Making a clean sweep.

If the practice of plundering the house of an enemy of all its provisions were ever justifiable, it would seem to have been partially so in the following instance, which is related by a veteran of the Army of the Cumberland:

We had had but a scanty allowance of food for several days, and the boys were getting to be pretty wolfish. Not far from our camp-by the way, this was down in Tennessee, in ‘62-there was a large rebel plantation, with a fine house, which the niggers said was actually overstocked with every thing nice. Some of the boys went there to try and raise something to eat. Several very stylish-looking ladies came out on the portico; but when we asked them for food-gracious!-how they abused us! It was perfectly savage! They presented pistols, and said they'd blow out our brains, and in fact “carried on” as only “reb” women can. Well --we retreated.

About an hour after, Major W — and several others of our officers went to the same house, where the ladies gave them a luncheon, and at the same time provoked and annoyed them as much as possible, by giving an exaggerated account of the manner in which they had,