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that all, as it seemed to me that every soldier on the grounds, in addi- tion to his jaunty zouave uniform, wore a black eye, a broken nose or a bandaged head, having just been recruited, and only getting over the usual enlistment spree. In my gold-trimmed, close-fitting full-dress uniform, my young heart beat with pride and ambition as I neared my destination, but I must confess a glance at the motley crowd of soldiers caused a sigh of regret that I had left my old com- pany, even to assume higher rank.
I was in it, however, and putting on a bold front, pursued my way through company streets in search of headquarters to report for duty. That remarks not altogether flattering were made in all modern lan- guages, I was painfully aware; but as I did not understand much of wh't was said, I held my temper in check until finally one fellow remarked to another in a rich Irish brogue: "Oh, Mike, look at that new lefttenant ! Don't he think he is purtty wid the new chicken guts (narrow gold lace, insignia of rank), on his arms. Look at his strut !" Then it was I broke loose and blessed the impudent rascal in vigorous language. 'Twas thus I first became acquainted with Private Dan Dunn, who subsequently became as brave as Julius Caesar. Poor, dear old Dan, whose name appears three separate times upon the roll of honor issued by the Confederate government! Rough, uncultured old hero and patriot, little thought I that day at Mandeville that in days to come you would be the one to rescue me from in front of the Yankee breastwork, and help carry me to a place unswept by shot or shell, until you sank yourself exhausted by the blood flowing from your own wounds !
"Such men they were the men I loved."
But I digress. I will, no doubt, digress quite frequently, other- wise my historical sketch will be dry reading.
If the enlisted men were somewhat mixed, the officers were gen- tlemen gentlemen in every sense of the word by birth and pres- tige, by education and travel, by wealth and social standing. Gay, bright, dashing young soldiers, ready at all times to dance or to fight. French Creoles, with a few exceptions, scions ot families which had furnished soldiers to every war in which Louisiana ever engaged, and to whom honor was dearer than life. Handsome boys, proud boys, most of whom fill warriors' graves. Happy days were those at Mandeville, notwithstanding the mixed and turbulent sol- diers to be subdued and subjected to discipline. But that was ac- complished and accomplished effectively.
This battalion was organized to become one of two regiments of
