looked
hard. Many of us were barefoot, and our clothes in general were dirty
and ragged. But Col. Marcy knew we had just come off a march, he was a
very sensible man, and capable of making some allowances. In accordance
with the regulations, he passed in front of us, walking slowly and
looking at us critically. As he came opposite each soldier, the latter
brought his piece into the prescribed position for examination, but
Col. Marcy contented himself with a sweeping glance, and did not take
the musket in his hands. Then he passed to the rear of the ranks, and
walked slowly along behind us, while we stood immovable, with eyes
fixed to the front. It was soon all over. He then approached Col. Ohr,
said something I did not hear, but which was evidently pleasant, for
the Colonel smiled, then turned round facing us, and with a sweep of
his arm in our direction said,--loud enough for many of us to hear,
"Good soldiers!" whereupon we all felt much relieved and proud,--and
the dreaded inspection was a thing of the past. Several years
afterwards, when in civil life out in Kansas, I learned that Col. Marcy
was not only a grand old soldier, but also a most interesting writer. I
have two of his books in my library now, and have had for many years,
one being his official report of the "Exploration of the Red River of
Louisiana, in the year 1852;" the other, "Thirty Years of Army Life on
the Border." Both are highly interesting, and I frequently take them
from the shelf and look them over. And when I do so, there always rises
up on about every page the recollection of the tall, imposing figure of
Col. Marcy, as he stood beneath the oaks at Devall's Bluff, Arkansas,
on the morning of July 4th, 1864, and waved his arm towards us, and
said in a kind tone, and with approving look: "Good soldiers!"

There was in Company D an original sort of a character, by the name of
Ambrose Pressley Allender,--for short, generally called "Press." He was
at this time (1864) about thirty-five years old. He had been a private
in a regiment of Kentucky infantry during the Mexican War, but what the
length of his service may have been I do not know. But in his Mexican
War experience he had at least learned every possible trick and device
that could be resorted to in "playing off," as the boys called it; that
is, avoiding duty on the plea of sickness or any other excuse that
would serve. He was not a bad man, by any means, but a good-hearted old
fellow. He ha