AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN F. LACEY 399 



party all to drink with him, and a man named Harris, 

 whom I would surely like to meet again, asked the judge 

 if it would be all right for him to take us home with 

 him for the night, as he lived on the road that we in- 

 tended to travel. Both the Judge and Mr. Harris 

 claimed to be secessionists, and after a conference it was 

 determined that we should go on with Mr. Harris. We 

 arrived at his house at dark and his family got us all a 

 good supper and I was one of the fortunate ones who got 

 a bed, and those for whom there were no beds slept in the 

 barn. Next morning Mr. Harris gave us our breakfast 

 and detailed instructions as to our journey, advising us 

 to spend the night with a certain Mr. Green who was, he 

 said, a Union man. I have always thought that Mr. 

 Harris was on our side though he did not dare let us 

 know it. 



At noon we stopped at an old tavern in a cross-roads 

 town and got a dinner of salt pork, corn bread, and water, 

 for which we were unable to pay, but were told it was 

 welcome, and that Mulligan's men had eaten them out so 

 that the fare was the best and all that they had. 



At dark we arrived at Mr. Green's. He and his fam- 

 ily made us welcome, fed us the best they could, and next 

 day hitched up teams to drive us to Hamilton, eighteen 

 miles distant on the railroad. As we got to the edge of 

 the town a train was just ready to pull out. We shouted 

 and the train stopped and waited for us. There were a 

 number of soldiers on the train and the old flag was fly- 

 ing from it. I never saw that banner look so lovely as it 

 did then. I had got heartily tired of the Confederate 

 flag and the everlasting jungle of " 'Way Down South 

 in Dixie." I never quite overcame my prejudice against 

 that tune till in 1898, during the Spanish War, when all 

 the old Union tunes and Rebel ones were mixed up by 

 the various regimental bands. 



