CAMPAIGNING WITH MAX. 127 



Guntown is far away in Northeastern Missis- 

 sippi. It is not laid down on the map of the 

 country, but it lies just across the Tishamingo 

 Creek, and it consists mainly of two plantation 

 houses and a school-house. Our stay there was 

 not long, and we were too much occupied to 

 study the locality minutely, but it is my im- 

 pression that the most important incident in its 

 history was connected with our visit. 



We were a force of about nine thousand in- 

 fantry, cavalry, and artillery, — some black and 

 some white, some good and some bad, — sent out 

 by Sherman as a tub to the Forrest whale; a 

 diversion to keep this commander from joining 

 Hood in Northern Georgia; though I doubt if 

 even General Sherman in his moments of wildest 

 enthusiasm anticipated just the issue that fol- 

 lowed. Our march out was not rapid, and it 

 was well ordered. We were allowed to take our 

 train, and old John Ellard's four stupendous 

 mules drew our headquarters' wagon, well laden 

 with the comforts we had accumulated during 

 a long service, including a brand-new, well-fur- 



