914

HISTORY OF THE ORPHAN BRIGADE.

quently meant mischief than bread and meat. He was brave and faithful, and the men gave him the honorary title of captain; but in the sharp skirmish at Smithfield, Tenn., he was promoted for "gallantry in the presence of the enemy," or rather by gallantry, etc. A comrade addressed him after the fight by his usual title, but he rebuked him with feigned austerity and informed him that he was now a major   pointing at the same time to a spangled mark on each side of his collar where a major wore his stars. A bullet had passed through the two ends of the collar, in front of his throat and his jugular, happily advancing him on the honorary roster instead of killing him. After the war he was for some years postmaster at Stanford; and whether in official or private station, he has retained the confidence and good will of his fellow-soldiers.

III. Henry Croan in Sequatchie Valley and at Mission Ridge.   A comrade who fought with Croan on many fields related the following: "About the time Capt. Jack Jones was killed, Henry Croan, who was riding by my side, exclaimed that he, too, was wounded. I think he said he was killed. I was then trying to help Capt. Jones, and had no time for anything else, and did not see him again until an hour or two afterward, when he was very much alive. ' Hello, Henry, I thought you told me you were killed 1' ' No,' he said, laughing, ' I wasn't killed, only desperately wounded.' ' Well, you are in a better humor than most desperately wounded men.' ' I may very well be,' he replied, ' I was wounded in a safe place,' at the same time holding up his heavy leather gun-sling, which had saved his life for the time, the bullet having lost its force in piercing it.

" On the retreat from Mission Ridge, the First Kentucky was in the rear, and late in the afternoon of the first day after the battle, we had a very sharp fight, during which my horse was shot. At the same time I heard an exclamation from Henry, and asked him what the matter was. 'They have got the general at last,' he said. (His camp nickname was 'general.') I knew that he was wounded, perhaps mortally. The fighting was brisk, and I lost sight of him, and supposed he had died when struck. To the great surprise of the company, he rode merrily into camp next morning, jauntily remarking that he had as good a thing as he wanted   a Yankee bullet had given him a furlough for the winter. He had a seemingly slight wound on the right shin, which sent him to the hospital for treatment. In three weeks word came that the gallant soldier had been granted an eternal furlough, and that our camp would never again be enlivened by his good-natured presence. The little scratch had killed him. He was a good soldier, a descendant of the gallant Croghan family known in the early history of Kentucky, and was mourned by the entire command."

IV. Attention There, Yank   Unlimber !     "Just before the battle of Mission Ridge," says a member of the First Kentucky, "I was sent with about a dozen men to picket the Tennessee at a point where it was quite narrow. Despite orders to the contrary, our men and the Federals frequently had amusing conversations across the stream. One day I heard a great sounding of bugles and beating of drums on their side, and was much astonished to see a splendid battery brought into position and unlimbered, the guns bearing directly on my