The western sentinel. [volume] (Winston-Salem, N.C.) 1887-1926, 1897-07-01
A WOMAN SOLDIER.

her husband IN the army. nave seen
Mrs. Barlow riding by the side of the gen.
earl on more than one march. I saw her
once when Barlow's division was suddenly
attacked by the enemy. The bursting of
shells directly over her head did not seem
TO scare her, and when the general directed
an orderly to escort Mrs. Barlow to place
Of safety she begged to remain. just then
q dozen shells and solid shot rushed over
their heads like train flying over a
bridge.
"FMy DEAR said General Barlow, sthis
is no place for you. Go back. can't fight
with my wife in such danger as this.
"'I'll go, general, said the lady, but
how must feel when 1 know my husband
is in such dangerf'
"Three or four of the Johnny camp ket-
ties, by the Whitworth gun route, dropped
over at that point, singing their well
known wisher wosher wusher boom bling
ping ping ping song, when Barlow called
out: 'Goodby, my dear. III be back soon.
Orderly. obey your orders. Take Mrs
Barlow away from here at once And the
orderly and the woman ganoped out Of
danger.
But I've told a war story with a WON
an in it when / started out to test you on
the question of woman soldiers. Did you
know of any,"
II said yes, and meant women soldiers,
not women with the army, such as you
have been talking about" was Colonel
Charley Richardson's answer-Richard
son, the printer, who was private, made
a prisoner by Mosby, but lived to get out
and become Dakota editor, a colonel and
a member of the legislature. Then he told
this story:
81 was made a prisoner soon after the
Kelly Ford fight, while a member of this
train guard. on our way with rations to
Culpeper. Upon reaching bit of forest
near Brandy Station, Mosby s men swooped
down upon us. The first thing ] knew
Mosby was within few feet of me, calling
for surrender and allowing me to lcok
into a six shooter. The guerrilla chief
caught sight of my fine new pair of high
topboots, for which the sutler had received
$12 the day before.
''Get out of those boots young fellow!'
was his second order.
1''Can't keep theIn?'
Back talk means hole through you
in a second. Get out of those boots!'
''That was enough. The boots came off.
s''Throw it up here, was his gruff order
when one was off. can see just how the
rough rider looked as he swung his right
foot over to the left, took off his well worn
shoes and threw thenl at my feet with an
order to put them on, and blank quick,
too, for we have nc. time to fool away
And they hadn't, for our cavalry had
heard the skirmish and were rapidly rid.
Ing to our relief. But they didn't catch
up with us. So, in time-it took a week
1--WE reached Libby prison.
My particular chum in prison was a
beardless young Virginian, Billy Gates,
whose family, he said, was loyal to the old
government and hadn't objected to his en-
tering the Union army. He had been cap
tured at about the time Mosby pluckeu
our squad. My chum was very nervous
and hated prison life worse than did, if
possible. He mingled but little with The
other prisoners. We shared our rations,
slept under the same blanket and became
very good friends.
"In January, 1864, the Richmond Wing
office was in great net q of printers The
foreman called upon Major Dick Turner,
the prison keeper, and the two came to
our floor and asked if there were any Yam
kee printers there. A Vermonter named
Baker and myself responded. They said
we could have work if we would take a
parole not to leave the city, give informa-
ton or do anything else unbecoming pa
rolled prisoners We readily agreed to the
terms.
''My chun, Gates, took on as badly as
If were his brother starting on a long
and dangerous tour. He begged me not
to go, saying he didn't want to make
friends with the others, declaring that /
had been a very brother to him. But ]
partially satisfied him by saying that it
was not likely that they would want us
more than a week or two, and that now
and then 1 would send him something
good to eat. But shall miss you ever Sc
much, Charley. Come back as soon as you
can
1T was II o'clock when they let us out
We were to go to work at 2. While pass
ing the SpOttswood House said: Baker,
let's 60 in and get a square meal. It's
been long time since we've had one
After registering, washing and brush
ing up we started for the dining room,
when one Of the Confederate officers, see
ing our blue clothes, asked us if we were
Yankees We told him yes.
"'What in the name Of blue blazes are
you doing heref'
"'We came here to dine.'
" 4 arrest you
"'I guess not said Baker, as he show.
ed his pass from General Winder and
copy of his parole. We were allowed TO
dine. My, but how we did eatl We were
both young fellows. was only II, and
we had boys appetites after that long, dry
spell in Libby prison. 1 had managed to
secrete $50 in greenbacks when captured.
l had most of that with me. Imagine my
surprise upon stepping up to pay for that
dinner when the clerk said, Twenty dol
lars EACH ] bad about $15 and Baker less
than $40. Suddenly it came to me that
his chal ge was based on Johnny money,
SO / said: We have none of your money.
How much is it in greenbacks? oh, it's
Yankee money you have. A dollar of that
will do
'sBut what about a woman soldier?''
Be patient. had Eeen at work on The
Wing a week or ten days when one day,
while on the way to the office, saw an
officer of the patrol guard, whom had
met several times, coming toward me. A
well dressed young woman was with him.
She looked at me as if she expected /
would recognize her. Seeing that 1 did
not, she laughed, extended Ter hand and
asked, Why. Cha1Ie.;, don't you know
mes'
1--we heard tie voice, but can't place
gou.'
sim Billy Gates, your Prison chup,,
not a boy, as you supposed, but girl, and
for the Union, if ti.sy hi.ng for it.
tHer Virginia frioEds Lad found out
where she was and by some means got
her out of prison. / learned afterward
from the officer that she was relative of
John Minor Bolts, at one time a distin-
guished Virginia congressman, who re-
manned true TO the Union. u. A. Wat
rous in Chicago Times Herald.
Tho Real Meaning.
"The poets license, my son. gaid the
genial cynic, .'is usually the liberty to
waste postage stamps and starve in gar
ret. "-Pittsburg News.