speeches, while the pavement, the stone porch, and the floor of the galleries were covered with militia, trying to sleep amidst the din. The thought was enough to anger a saint — the Capital of the State threatened by the rebels, the Governor almost beseeching men to come to the rescue, and those who respond compelled to lie outside upon the stones and listen to the disloyal yells of the enemies of the country comfortably quartered within.
Lloyd, Andy[1] and myself went all over the building searching for a lodging place, and finally pitched upon the stone porch as the most eligible spot, being covered by a roof, more clean, cool and less crowded than the inside. Several of the men chose the pavement, but as it rained during the night they were driven within. I spread out my horse blanket, put my bread satchel under my head, and endeavored to go to sleep, but the novelty of the position, the solidity of the bed, and the unpleasant practice the man above me had of putting his boots on my head, rendered it almost impossible. I finally dozed and dreamed a little, with the shouts of the Copperheads ringing in my ears. About one o'clock they adjourned, and came out stepping over us, and went to their hotels, all of which they had previously engaged and crowded. The men groaned and cursed them, damned Woodward, McClellan, and traitors generally, and there were several fights in consequence. I awoke Andy and Lloyd, and proposed moving our quarters into the hall, which Andy and I did, and slept the rest of the night in the seats there, very pleasantly, but Lloyd remained outside. A number of our fellows amused themselves in destroying copies of the “Age” and other papers of like
- ↑ A. R. Whitaker.
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