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REMINISCENCES OE THE AVAR.By the Sdbgeon of Mosby’s Com-NINETEENTH PAPER.After a prolonged ;and deCidedly pleasant Interview with this pollite, courteous and accomplished officer, 1 arose to thank him for his magnanimous kindness and rare generosity before taking our final departure. He politely asked us to dine with him,and at the same time informed us that Geu. Torbett had sent a special invitation to take dinner at his quarters. With a pleasant gesture and a significant expression of his handsome features. this fine looking old Federal chief' said : “Gentlemen, as you have been on much mors intimate terms with Gen. Torbett than myself, and as you have given hini recently such good evidences of your regard, and alwavs received his visits with such warm if not affectionate cordiality, it may be more pleasant during your short stay with us to accept his invitation. Though Gen. Torbett claims the right to entertain you, I will be very much pleased if you will do me the honor of accepting a soldier’s hospitality and break bread with me today.” This was said in such a kind manner,and with such pleasing grace, that the most callous and obtuse Rebel would have been softened by the smooth and touching sentiments sofortably digest.Ool. Chapman wore ‘one more star his collar than I wore on mine,andappropriately expressed For two poor, forlorn, helpless, conquered Rebel soldiers, who presented themselves to the throne of Federal power as humble petitioners for mercy and justice to our outlawed Chief, to be treated as distinguished visitors by the august representative of absolute power was a shock to our previous calculations that threatened to take the atmosphere out of anybody’s lungs. This great and unexpected condescension tof potent military authority almost overpowered us. To think of two hungry and friendless supplicants in gray uniforms being asked to con fi r an honor on a great, big, powerful incut. General of the victorious Federal army by taking, dinner with him, was more than the best trained nervous system could bear. We could have been educated slowly and gradually to accommodate ourselves to thi§ change of feeling. We would have exhibited less, awkwardness under the shock we receiV' ed if the startling- compliment had been administered in broken doses; but taken all at once, it made us feel something like the poor relations in the Pickwick Papers—“all smiles and shirt collars,” My comrade, Colonel Chapman, was not a talking man, and Gen. Hancock’s extraordinary and almost oppressive kindness left me bewildered and confused. I endeavored to say something pretty, but; stammered something probably the reverse. Kind treatment was what Confederate soldiers knew nothing about. We had never receivSd any of it from our own officers or Government, and had no reason to expect it from our old enemies. At the death of poor old Peg Sliderscrew, the house-keeper of Arthur Gride, the miser, many suggestions were made by the -people as to the cause of the old woman’s sudden taking off, when a youth, who knew something of the true inwardness of old Gride’s household habits, said that “it was probable the old woman had seen something good to eat, and the surprise killed her.” Good treatment to a Confederate soldier would do as much violence.to the law of chronic habit as the appearance of dainty food was suspected to have inflicted upon the lean, hungry housekeeper of the inveterate miser, Arthur Gride. I tried to be as thankful and as polite as I could. I talked a good deal. My quiet friend Chapman afterwards told me that I talked loo much. I remember the feeling of gratitude tliat prompted me on that occasion much better than I can remember the words by which I endeavored to express it. It occurs to me that I looked the old General squarely in the face while he held my hand,and told him that if ever Fate decreed that I should live to get the better of him as much as he seemed to have the advantage of me, I should do my best to return all his distinguished favors with compound interest—that is, if the laws and the Constitution of the now-government, known as the United States at that time, should be so kind as to permit favors or any other curreney to bear compound interest or any other kind of interest;—that if I was unfortunate enough to live several hundred years more than Methuselah ever did, I should not then outlive tho profound gratitude I felt for his exceptional kindness and unmerited generosity; tliac should fortune ever turn his footsteps in the future towards the good old county of Albemarle, where I had a home whep I last heard from it, I would assuredly kill the fatted calf, and if the calf was not fat enough, or if Gen. Sheridan had not already killed it,he should have the first choice of all the pigs, chicken.. dueks, or any other thing that was good to eat or drink, that was yet left in that hospitable old county, provided that- infamous marauder, Gen. Sheridan, with his hungry swarm of human catterpillars known as.Sheridan’s mounted infantry, had left enough in his wake to feed so distinguished a Federal general as himself upon; that provided Gen. Sheridan had left anything in my old county, I would see to u (hat Gen. Hancock should have i:. Feeling a full and clear certainty that my intentions wereJttrst-olassH was not very cautious in the words I used on this occasion. I have, ever since that e-ventful epoch, believed that my earnest effort to please only succeeded in sadly boring my distinguished, host. The General had implied a handsome compliment to otir command in his reference to the several warm receptions we had given his friend,General J’orbett, as we bad recently repulsed ™im in a lively and splendid engagement at Warronton. Ho had also complimented our courage, skill, and bearing as gallant soldiers, and eulogized Mosby’s extraordinary genius and unprecedented daring. AH these things were exceedingly flattering to our vanity. All men have vanity,even a vanquished soldier, and human vanity always enjoys a good apetito and can digest an enormous amount of the crudest and toughest flattery. T hough conquered we were like other men—vain even of our defects and proud even of our follies. But, with all our human follies, when Gen. Hancock told us he would be proud ofthe honor two friendless, helpless and praved 1 lonely Rebel officers would confer by dinine with him, it was rather more than the very voracious apetite of human vanity could well receive or oom-I left it to him to decide whether we should honor Gen. Hancock or Gen. Torbett with our distinguished presence at dinner. The Ool. being somewhat slew, I put the question; ‘All who are in favor of dining with Gen. Torbett will say aye; those to the contrary say no.” The Ool. not being contrary said nothing. I voted in the affirmative,and as the Col.did not vote on either side,I decided that the meeting had voted unanimously for dining with Gen. Torbett. Tho noble old General smiled at this method of taking tho sense of our delegation on the interesting question of dinner. With an air of condescending through majestic dignity, he walked with us to the door. The street in front of the house was densely packed with Federal soldiers m blue. Gen Hancock said, with a smile: “It is rumored thatCol, Mosby is here; observe the curiosity of tho army to see your leader. Gentlemen, it is impossible for you to go out by the front gate.” Then turning to Col. Russol he asked him to conduct us out by the back way and escort usi to Gen. Torbett’s quarters. Ool. Russel kindly guided us through the rear way into an alley that led into a cross street. JJo sooner did the Federal soldiers obserye our movements than they made a great rush into the cross street, in a desperate effort to see the famous fierce fighter, Col. Mosby. We worked our way as best we could through the dense mass of uniformed humanity that surged and rolled arouncl us as blue and as restless as the sea. In answer to the many questions as to “Which is Mosby?” 1 would point to Ool, Chap--man and the Colonel would point them to me. Many were the comments made, and some not of a decidedly complimentary character, as to our appearance, Some of the men expressed great surprise that “Bloli an ’ornery’ man should have made sich a fuss in the worl’,” Others said they thought “he must hay’ bin an ugly cuss frum the way he behaved heself, but he wuz re’ly wus lookin’ thaii they had sposen ho wuz.” “Lor what a hard-lookin' feller ! No wonder he fout so, frum his looks, looks like a foutiu man, he do’ aint never see no wus lookin' man, I aint; he look like he wuz bought outon a drove of wild men, he do. He don’t look like lie tame yet, he dont dang’rous feller to turn lose now, you bet.” “He dont look like a bad man, he ugly though.” “I woulden like to trus’ him now, if ho has gin it up, I woulden.” “No wonder we coulden ketch him befo’; he look like a fox, he. do.” “Thank God he Joie give it up, I say.” “I didn’t think he looked like that, I didn’t.” Such were the running commentaries passed upon as we moved through the deuse mass of Yankee soldiers from Gen. Hancock’s to Gefi. Torbett’s headquarters As the various reflections cast fell equally upon myself and my comrade, Gol. Chapman, we divided the doubtful compliments between us the best we could, and felt any other sen-tment than vanity as we received lis running Are of criticism from the rank and file of blue uniforms before us. Col. Chapman insisted that I was the man mistaken for Mosby, and I with equal contumacy insisted that, as the Colonel was equally as ordinary looking an individual as myself and at least an inch or two more conspicuous, the doubtful compliments must have been intended for him.Without further difficulty than the wild creations of Yankee fancy that greeted us on our way, we arrived at Gen. Torbett’s quarters. We found the General reclining on a couch. He informed us that he had been seriously indisposed for several days, but was glad to receive us as his guests, He spoke pleasantly of the interesting encounters he had had with us on previous occasions, and mentioned the affair at Warrenton as one of peculiar interest, particularly to his medical director. He introduced me to that officer and informed me that his Doctor had lost two very valuable horses on that occasion and would like to know something about them .The medical director seemed so deeply interested in the fate of his favorite quadrupeds that he gave me a graphic description of the animals in question, and anxiously asked if I thought there was any prospect of his ultimately recovering them. From his minute description I recognized the fact that our gallant Capt. Glasscock was the officer that had captured the Doctor’s horses. I told him that it was very probable he would finally recover his property. He saidjthey were great pets, or favorites, and he was willing to pay a full price for them. I had formed an .opinion that as we ware conquered we had no right to anything. We had unfortunately lost our liberties and could not conceive how we could maintain any legal right to property.1 therefore assured him that Captain Glasscock would doubtless take great pleasure in restoring the horses to their legal owner,without money and without price. I very much regret that I haTe forgotten the name ofthis medical director. I remember his appearance well. Ho was a small man, with small eyes and small side-whiskers—of small stature and still smaller ideas. His whole soul seemed to be totally absorbed with the hope of recovering his lost property. Every other officer at Gen. Torbett’s headquarters was thinking of the great events of the closing struggle that had shaken a continent and bathed a nation in the best blood that ever flowed from patriots’ veins. But this remarkable militarvM. D. seemed wholly absorbed with his horses.It occurred to mo that unfortunate indeed must, be tho brave soldiers whose welfn’ e in sickness and wounds would depend' upon such an officer, A commissioned officer, who could think only of his contemptible private property,in the throes and agony of a great nation, in the storm and convulsion of the hideous civil war that shed its horrid glare around us, must surely be unfit for the high and responsible duties of his almost sacred office. The narrow-minded creature forcibly reminded me of our own contemptible medical department with its hideous figure-head. What a great curse it is—incalculable in its cruel damage to humanity—for the medical department of an armyto be incompetent,and indifferent to the discharge of important functions, stupid, unjust, orde-Whenevar or wherever I incompeteucy, folly, and cruel injustice, I always thought of tho thoroughly organized heil of the medical department of tho Confederate States army, with its implements of torture in the irresponsible hands qf ignorant and cruel impostors. The medical department of our army, with its gorgon head, was well descri-Karl in ‘»Thn DfiVbed in “Tho Devil’s Drive” by the great Lord of British poetry:—III follow my taste,I will ride In a wagon of wounded men, And smile to see them bleed.The horribly shocking picture in Lalla Rookh, drawn by Tom Moore, when Mokiyia lifts his veil upon the ghastly scene of his poisoned victims, and discloses for the first time to mortal vision features too hideous to describe, and plainly tells them:Can add one curse to tlic foul thing I am”— is nothing more- nor less than the picture of thousands of mangled human bodies—the sick and wounded myriads of Confederate soldiers— looking intolerable anguish and despair into the face of the stollid representative of Confederate surgery. The veiled prophet of Korassan was more merciful to his deluded followers than was the great head of the Confederate medical department to its unhappy victims. “The Moon Maker” poisoned and killed without torture; but it was left for the prophet of the nineteenth century to transport thousands of living, mangled soldiers hundreds of miles for no other purpose than pruel torture. In discussing scientific ipatters with Geueral Torbett’s surgeon, I discovered, to my inexpressible disgust, that he knew nothing and had read nothingabout mat ters appertaining to his profession,but seemed to thmk only of his two pet horses captured at Warrenton by our gallant Capt. Glasscock.
Newspaper Details
Manchester Virginia Courier
Manchester, Virginia, US
Sat, May 31, 1879
Page 4
Full Page
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Kim W.
USA 22 Jan 2024
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