Forty-Six Years in the Army | Page 4

My
mother was Caroline McAllister, daughter of John McAllister of Gerry.
We removed to Illinois in June, 1843, and, after a short stay in Bristol,
my father made a new home for his family in Freeport, where he began
his missionary work by founding the First Baptist Church of that place.
In all my childhood and youth I had what I regard as the best possible
opportunities for education, in excellent public schools where the
rudiments of English were taught with great thoroughness, and in a fair
amount of all kinds of manly sports, and in hard work, mainly on the
farm and in building a new home, which left no time and little
inclination for any kind of mischief. At sixteen years of age I spent
three months in surveying public lands in the wilds of northern
Wisconsin, and at seventeen taught district school in the little town of
Oneco. By that time I had chosen the law as my profession, and was
working hard to complete the preparatory studies at my own expense.
APPOINTMENT TO WEST POINT
The winter's school term in Oneco having closed early in the spring of
1849, I returned to Freeport and resumed my struggle with Latin. Then
an unforseen event turned the course of my life. The young man who
had been appointed to West Point from our district only a year or two
before had failed to continue his course in the Military Academy. Thus
a vacancy occurred just at the close of Mr. Thomas J. Turner's term in
Congress. There was no time for applications or for consultation. He

must select another candidate to enter the following June, or leave the
place to be filled by his successor. Fortunately for me, Mr. Turner, as
one of the public-school directors, had been present at an examination
where the subject with which I had to deal was mathematical; if he had
caught me at Latin, the result must have been fatal to all my prospects.
Besides, Mr. Turner had heard from his brother James of the stamina I
had shown in the public land-surveying expedition; and also from my
father of my determination to get a good education before beginning
the study of law. So he brought me a cadet appointment when he came
home, and said he believed a boy with that record could get through
West Point, the training there being, in his opinion, a good preparation
for the study of law.
The little savings from all my past work had been invested in a piece of
land which was sold to fit me out for my journey to West Point,
including some inexpensive visits en route. I reported at the Academy
on June 1, 1849, with less than two dollars in my pocket, which I
conscientiously deposited with the treasurer, as required by the
regulations. My reception was of the most satisfactory character.
William P. Curlin of the second class, and Hezekiah H. Garber of the
third, both from Illinois, found me out very soon after I reported, took
me under their protection in a brotherly way, and gave me some timely
advice--not to take too seriously any little fun the "men" might make of
my blue dress-coat and fancy gilt buttons, or anything like that; but I
never experienced anything even approaching to hazing. My rather
mature appearance may have had something to do with the respect
generally paid me. It was true I was only seventeen years and nine
months old, as recorded in the register, but my experience may have
had some visible effect.
I was assigned to a room in the old South Barracks, which were
demolished the next year. My room-mates were Henry H. Walker and
John R. Chambliss, two charming fellows from Virginia. We had
hardly learned each other's names when one of them said something
about the "blank Yankees"; but instantly, seeing something that might
perhaps have appeared like Southern blood in my face, added, "You are
not a Yankee!" I replied, "Yes, I am from Illinois." "Oh," said he, "we

don't call Western men Yankees." In that remark I found my mission at
West Point, as in after life, to be, as far as possible, a peacemaker
between the hostile sections. If the great West could have been heard,
and its more dispassionate voice heeded, possibly peace might have
been preserved.
My experience at West Point did not differ in many particulars from the
general average of cadet life, but a few incidents may be worthy of
special mention. My experience in camp was comparatively limited.
The first summer I was on guard only once. Then the corporal of the
grand rounds tried to charge over my post without giving the
countersign, because I had not challenged promptly. We crossed
bayonets, but I proved