The Sioux City Journal, September 10, 1901 (Photo of Civil War veteran)

The Sioux City Journal, September 10, 1901

THE BOYS IN BLUE OF ‘61

CAPT. J. S. LOTHROP. 

Capt. J. S. Lothrop told the following story of the war:

“The stomach of a soldier is the most delicate and responsive piece of furniture in the household of the human system, and it is as effectually hurt by letting it alone as by giving it a punch.  Indeed to be the cause of slighting it evokes a more enduring antagonism in the mind of its possessor against the offender than by any other form of injury.

“During a portion of 1862, Gen. Stanley commanded the division to which my regiment belonged, and from having had some semi-official and personal business with him in the conduct of which the general was very gracious and affable, I entertained a high regard for him, a sentiment that was wholly dissipated by a single act of indiscretion on the part of the general.

“We were on a march without rations, living from a closely foraged country and going into bivouac one night with a stomach so empty that it would not have filled a pint cup, and nothing to eat, I concluded to go out grubbing, so leaving my mess to set the extension table with the best china and make up the folding beds, I put out, and at a log house not far distant I engaged a woman to cook me some corn cake, the only article of food she had.  The corn meal had been nicely mixed up with water and salt, deposited in a Dutch oven, hot coals and ashes beneath it and on top, and I sitting by in a most delightful glow of anticipation, my stomach singing psalms and even then enjoying the pleasant tintinnabulation that was coming when those hot pones should be ready for military duty.

“Before the baking process was completed, however, Gen. Stanley and a portion of his staff came to the house with the evident intent of putting up there for the night; I didn’t care a rush for staff officers, and I had seen generals before and did not see any necessity for retiring.  I didn’t rush up to the general nor make any unduly familiar demonstrations, but in a very quiet and becoming manner waited for the advent of my cakes.   Pretty soon the general stepped up to me and in the most courteous manner in the world asked my name, which, having nothing to conceal, I gave to him.  He then asked me, ‘What is your company and regiment?’ Saluting in the most approved style, I replied, ‘Company E, Twenty-sixth Illinois infantry.’  Then came the shot: ‘Captain,’ said the general, ‘you will go directly to your command.’  Saluting again, I said, ‘General, I will go.’  To this the general replied in a tone that indicated that he regarded my declaration of acquiescence as superfluous, ‘Of course you will go.’

“I didn’t waste any more polite salutes on him, and went into the night, told the story to my hungry comrades and lay down on the ground with my stomach in tempestuous revolt and put in half of the night in cursing Gen. Stanley, whom from that day to this I have hated so intensely that had he been killed during the war I would have shouted with delight.  A hungry soldier’s stomach is a very tender spot.”