“Sic transit Gloria!” Got orders for good old
Donaldsonville, La. As usual, I got my share of the dirty work. The regiment
had been paid off, and many soldiers were in the city on passes when the order
came, so the Colonel ordered me to take a posse of soldiers and go down to the
city and get those out on passes on board “The Metropolitan,” lying at the
wharf; so I had a good time of it. Most every saloon had more or less drunken
soldiers in it. I hailed a passing market wagon on the street, and told the
driver I wanted him to take a load of soldiers down to the boat. “I can't do
it: I have not got the time.” “Yes,” I said, “but you must.” He looked at the
shoulder straps I had on, and at the posse with me, and decided to go. We soon
filled it, put a guard in, and sent them on, and I hailed another. I hailed
three in all. When the roll was called they were all there; so, at 5 p. m., the
prow of the “Metropolitan” was headed down stream. Lieut. Jones and the negro
boys looked after my luggage. We had to coal up two miles below. Got stuck in
the mud once, besides having much foggy weather.
General Gilmore came aboard at Helena, Ark., and got off at
White River Landing.
SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from
a Soldier's Diary, p. 141-2
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