CXI

Point Lookout, Md.,September 9, 1863.

BILL RAMSDELLhad his trial today, but I have heard nothing of its course or result. Bill told me he was going to plead his own cause. In any civil court he would be acquitted; but this is a military court, and Bill is only a private, and I am not so sure. It is getting to be more and more so that there is one law for officers and another for enlisted men. Shoulder-straps are a great protection to the men wearing them. For instance: At WashingtonColonel Bailey broke a sergeant for getting drunk, and issued a terrible manifesto decreeing condign punishment for any one who should disgrace the regiment in a like manner. Now for the sequel. A few days ago one of our officers appeared at guard-mount so gloriously drunk that he could not walk straight, and made a big bull of the whole ceremony, to the disgrace both of himself and the regiment. Has he been disciplined as the sergeant was? Not on your life.

Friday Evening, September 11.

Now for a tale of wild adventure! I came off guard at nine o’clock this morning, and Sam. Oliver and I arranged to go a-fishing. We did not get off until after dinner, which for Dan. and I consisted of a big mess-pan of potatoes and bread and butter. We worked pretty hard to find some worms for bait, but not a worm could be found on the Point; so we caught a few grasshoppers and a crab and started in a dugout for a point about two miles up the river. We fished diligently and faithfully, but not a fish came to our hooks. But we were repaid for our trouble by several very near views of the giant turtles which have lately made their appearance here. Several times they came up close to the boat. If they can bite as savagely as a “snapper” in proportion to their size—O, my! Their heads looked as large as a man’s, and their spread of flippers was tremendous. They would stick their heads out of the water, give a big puff, and lazily roll under again. As we couldn’t catch fish, we went ashore, had a good swim, and then went home. Then I found I had left a rebel officer’s belt on the beach, and I paddled the boat back again and picked up the belt.

Here is another: Colonel Bailey, Steve Smiley and a few others went out sailing, yesterday, in a dugout they had rigged up with a keel and a sail. They had no trouble running out before the wind, but when it came to beating back they couldn’t get anywhere. They went kiting about, hither and thither, and their boat did everything but what they wanted it to. One of our armed schooners fired two shots to bring them to, but they couldn’t heave to if the fate of the world had depended on it. At last they came within an ace of running down one of the gunboats, which obligingly lowered a boat and towed them ashore.

I do not know yet the result of Bill Ramsdell’s court martial,but he says he is perfectly satisfied with the way he got his side of the case in. The President of the court did not hesitate to say that Bill’s treatment had been “shameful” in some particulars.

We have not had a drop of rain here for some time, although it is cloudy almost every day and looks as if it was going to pour right away. But we have an almost constant breeze, which is very refreshing, although it is so late in the season that it begins to be a little cool.

Old Dan. is the prince of story tellers. He tells me stories of Ireland and of his own adventures there and elsewhere. I like to hear him. He will start in with some entirely reasonable and probable narrative. Then he tells me something a little steeper, which I pretend to swallow. Properly encouraged, he goes on, each time improving on his last, until Gulliver and Munchausen sink into insignificance. Then I say: “Och, Dan., what a divvle of a liar ye are!” He twists his picked nose, snaps his eyes, and the show is over.

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