Blackfoot news. (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1891-1902, 1894-04-07


cheer from our line is hurled back
upon them, and shot answers shot
The roar of artillery is incessant. The
crash of muslSetry is deafening, and
the earth tremblcs from the eoncus-
sion and shock. Watch the play on
the faces OF the men, The eve flashes,
the face grows wild and grand, the
forms round out To their fullest limit,
and the plain. duh soldier boy rises
into the grandeur and glory of n
HOmerie god as he springs TO his feet,
with no thought of white flag or de
feat. full of desire To meet and destroy
the coming enemy All individuality
is lost in this wild dance of death.
The gray line again halts, trembles
and is gone, followed by wild cheer
that burst from the heroic line in blue,
telling in its own glad way that they
are victors ON the bloody field. Blue
and Gray.
An Errand OF Charity.
During the month of May, 1864, on
the Petersburg turnpike, three or four
days before the battle of Drewry's
Bluff, and about half way between
Petersburg and Richmond, Va, my
eomrade and /, who belonged to the
! second brigade col Griffin A. Stead
mans, second division. eighteenth
corps, started off TO the left of the
turnpike, or in other words. deliber-
ately swung to the left, in accordance
with Gen. Grants tactics of the cam
paign.
About a mile and half brought us
to farm house that had been pretty
well ransaeSed before we arrived.
Under the barn which had been over
looked. we discovered about a dozen
hens sitting quietly upon their eggs.
not knowing TN e order had gone forth
that the rebellion must be put down
if it took the last chicken in. the Con-
federacy"
Ny comrade crawled under the barn
and passed out the hens, through
which you could see daylight, SO far
had they been reduced, living ON
short rations and nobly doing duty
for the Cofederacy. He kept me busy
wringing their necks. after which we
I tied their legs together. swung them
over our shoulders and started back
to the turnpike, congratulating our
selves upon what a nice chicken din
ner we should have when we got back
/ to oar command. But our jubilant
! expectations were peremptorily de-
molished by the direct order Of a gem
eral.
just as we emerged from the thickct
I on the left Of the turnpike we came
in contact with Benjamin r. Butler!
The general beclioned to rs to come
up to where he was sitting on his
+ horse.
I After saluting him very respectful
IL, and trembling very pereeptibIy,
+ the first question he asked was:
( Where did YOU get those chickens"
/ Ny comradc, acting az spokesman,
replied:
at the farmhouse 70 the left, about
a mile and a half from here
the next question was poser.
What are you going to do with
I them?"
+ We thought we were in for It. and
We should be punished for capturing
old sitting hens, whereas nice fat
chickens might have passed with the
general as legitimate spoils Of war.
So my chum replied:
we are going to take them back 20
the hospital for the sick and wounded"
The hospital was about six miles to
the rear.
The general called an orderly, who
was mounted, and gave him the fol-
! lowing general order: Orderly, 90
back to the hospital with these men,
and see that they deliver those chick
ems to the surgeon in charge
If cannon-ball had struck US we
J could not have been more crestfallen.
J The next morning we were escorted
back to our commands. where we re-
manned during the battle Of Drewry's
Bluff, on the morning % the 10Th Of
May. 1864.
saw General Butler upon one oc-
casion after that, which brought
wildly to my mind that lost anticipat-
ed chicken dinner. q. w. Ford,
National Tribune.
Needed no Help.
There was no better. more loyal or
more fearless soldier than old Jack
Dublin, but lie had one fault and that
was an oyerweening fOndness for the
whisky bottle or rather for the tents.
He had boon companion whose real
name ! never knew, but everyone
called him Encle ST. While in camp
old Jack was taken i'll Of fever. and,
despite the unremitting attention Of
81, died. The corpse developed an I'M
usual rigidity after death and a