ADDRESSES 163 



for the leeks and fleshpots of Louisiana! What visions of 

 sutler's delicacies opened up once more to those whom long 

 tick had gradually restricted to a Spartan diet of hard tack 

 and salt pork ! What thoughts of home and the money that 

 could be sent to loved ones far away, suffering perhaps for 

 lack of that very money ! But how to do it — there was 

 the question. Here we were in the very heart of the rebel 

 country, two hundred miles at least from New Orleans, 

 in the midst of an active campaign. No opportunity to 

 send letters except such as chance threw in the way, 

 and no certainty that such letters would ever reach their 

 destination. Added to this came the order to be ready to 

 march at four o'clock. Whither we knew not; but the foe 

 was ahead, and our late experience had taught us that 

 life was but an uncertain element and that a rebel bullet 

 had a very careless way of seeking out and finding its 

 victims. 



In the midst of all the bustle and confusion, the sergeant- 

 major came tearing along through the camp, excitedly 

 inquiring for Lieutenant Goodell. That estimable officer, I 

 am sorry to say, having received no pay, owing to some 

 informality in his papers when mustered in from second to 

 first lieutenant, had retired into the shade of a neighboring 

 magnolia tree and was there meditating on the cussedness 

 of paymasters, mustering officers, the army in general. In 

 fact everything looked uncommonly black, and never be- 

 fore had he so strongly believed in universal damnation. 

 To him, then, thus communing, came long-legged Symonds, 

 the sergeant-major, and said: "You will report for duty at 

 once to head-quarters. You are directed to receive the pay 

 of the regiment and proceed forthwith to New Orleans, 



