54. LIV.
A LITLE IDEA OF CAPTAIN BOGY'S.
Before proceeding with the rapid narrative of the great campaign,
of which I have given only the main historic outlines, I
shall invite the reader's attention to one of those comic scenes
which so often appear amid the carnage of war, and afford him
a glimpse of an old acquaintance, wellnigh forgotten, I fear, in
the rush of events and the crowd of personages on the imposing
theatre of the war.
I had been sent to the front with an order from Jackson, and
was returning to Winchester, when, just as I debouched into the
main highway between that place and Martinsburg, I described a
singular cortege.
A long line of Federal prisoners were marching on foot over
the dusty high road to Winchester, accompanied by a guard of
cavalry; and each one of the blue-coats carried in his arms a
negro child![1]
They toiled along through the hot sunshine, carrying the
squalling young Africans, and, as I approached, imprecations
greeted my ears, mixed with laughter from the guard, who
seemed to enjoy intensely the disgust of their late adversaries at
this compulsory dry-nursism.
I was about to ride on, when all at once I recognized in the
commander of the cavalry escort my old acquaintance, Captain
Bogy, with whom I had dined, in company with Johnston, Jackson,
and Stuart, just before the battle of Manassas. I knew that
the jovial Captain had joined Jackson with his company when
Ewell re-enforced us just before McDowell, but, in the rush of
official engagements, had not been able to visit him.
Bogy was, if any thing, fatter, rounder, and more jovial than
before. His sabre-belt sunk deeper into his enormous body;
his jackboots were heavier; his face more ruddy, and his smile
still more unctuous.
He recognized me at once, and saluted me with a wheezy,
deep-seated, contagious laugh.
“You see I am going back, Major,” he said, “with a few of
the spoils of victory!”
“In the shape of prisoners and contrabands!”
“Yes, that is a little device of mine, and I don't mind saying
I'm rather proud of it. Rather a neat idea, eh, Major?”
“Making the prisoners carry the darkey?”
“Why not? They enticed them away, and were carrying off
in their wagons whole families of these monkey-beings. They
are savage on their General Banks, and swear that it was all his
doing. They charge him with leaving behind his own wounded
to make room in his wagon for the ebo-shins.”[2]
“It is not possible!”
“Don't know; but I know they were carried off in shoals to
Martinsburg, and, as I captured 'em, I thought they ought to be
brought back by the same people who took them there. It must
be a pleasing occupation to tote 'em—they love 'em so!”
And, turning to a sullen-looking fellow among the Federal
prisoners, who carried in his arms an uncommonly dirty, chubby,
and squalling negro baby, Captain Bogy asked, with an air of
great interest, whether he was not “glad to have that close to
his bosom one of the poor down-trodden Africans?”
The reply of the Federal prisoner was brief but expressive:
“D—— the down-trodden African!” he growled. “I wish
the whole concern of 'em was in——!”
And he mentioned a place unnamable to ears polite.
Bogy burst into laughter, and the baby set up a squall.
“Hug him! hug the little darling to your bosom, my friend!”
said the Captain. “I don't myself admire the peculiar odor of
the African, but there's no accounting for difference of taste!”
And, amid the muttered curses of the burly nurse, who looked
as if he would very much like to strangle his burden, Bogy rode
on laughing.
“General order number one!” he called out as we passed on;
“if any prisoner drops his baby, give him two!”
And, shaking all over, Bogy turned to me and said:
“A glorious campaign, Major! a perfect stifler on Commissary-General
Banks!”
“Commissary-General?”
“That's the nickname given him by the men. They say that
he is Old Jack's commissary and quartermaster too. Wagons,
rations, sutlers' stores—he has provided every thing.”
“Very true, my dear Captain, and I'm much mistaken if so
old a soldier as yourself has not looked out for his mess.”
“Me!” exclaimed the Captain. “Oh, I never think of good
eating, Major!”
And the Captain chuckled.
“Remember that day I dined with you.”
“Was the bill of fare good? Delighted to hear it.”
“It was miraculous; and I'll bet you will dine as well to-day.”
“No, no, I fear not.”
And Bogy sighed.
“Come, confess, my dear Captain, didn't you secure some
small, unpretending wagon, which no one else would notice, and
yet whose contents were a real Arabian Night's Entertainment?”
Bogy looked modest, and was silent.
“Come! you look guilty! Confess, confess!”
Captain Bogy inserted one finger beneath his hat, scratched
his head, and replied, in an innocent voice:
“Well, I did get a small, a very small wagon, Major.”
“I could have sworn it! And now confess again! It was a
`head-quarters wagon.' ”
“Well, I believe it was.”
“Whose, my dear Captain?”
The Captain looked still more innocent.
“I think it was General Banks's,” he replied, with lamb-like
simplicity.
I began to laugh, and asked if its contents were satisfactory.
“Eminently so, my dear Major, as you will have an opportunity
of seeing, if you will come and dine with me to-morrow.
To-day is lost; I have dined on a cracker,” and Bogy sighed;
“but to-morrow! Ah! that's different! To-morrow I shall
really dine! Come and let us reconnoitre the wagon together.
I have already tried the brandy; it is genuine Otard: the wine is
not so good, and I wish these Yankee generals would cultivate a
purer taste. They rarely have what suits my palate. But the
sauces are excellent; I have tried them: and the cheese very
passable. Come, Major! come! Lucullus dines with Lucullus
to-morrow; drop in! I will send you word where to find me!”
Such was the hospitable invitation of Captain Bogy, and I
accepted it provisionally—if I could come. Unfortunately, to
anticipate, I was unable to be with the gallant Captain.
I left him riding gravely in front of his cortege, occasionally
issuing a stentorian order when the nurses flagged in their march,
or exhibited symptoms of rebellion at their burden.
That spectacle kept me laughing for many miles.
