ho were a disgrace
to mankind.

Sometime during the day (October 30th) we marched back to Montgomery
City, got on the cars, and again started for St. Louis, where we
arrived the next day, and marched out to old Benton Barracks, where we
took up our quarters for the time being. So we were once more "tenting
on the old camp ground," after an absence of nearly three years. But
the place did not look as it did before. It seemed old and dilapidated
and there were only a few troops there. As compared with the active,
stirring conditions that obtained there in February and March, 1862, it
now looked indescribably dejected and forlorn. But our stay here this
time was short. We left on November 5th, marched into St. Louis, and
down to the wharf, where we embarked on the steamer "David Tatum," and
started up the Mississippi. We were puzzled for a while as to what this
meant, but soon found out. We were told that the regiment was being
sent home to vote at the ensuing presidential election, which would
occur on November 8th, that we would take the cars at Alton and go to
Springfield, and from there to our respective homes. We surely were
glad that we were going to be granted this favor. The most of the
States had enacted laws authorizing their soldiers to vote in the
field, but the Illinois legislature since 1862 had been Democratic in
politics, and that party at that time in our State was not favorably
disposed to such a measure. Consequently the legislature in office had
failed to pass any law authorizing their soldier constituents to vote
when away from home. We arrived at Alton about 9 o'clock on the evening
of the 5th, and found a train waiting us (box cars), which we at once
climbed on. We had just got our guns and other things stowed away in
corners, and were proceeding to make ourselves comfortable for a night
ride to Springfield, when Lt. Wallace came down from the officers'
caboose, and stopped at the Co. D car. "Boys," he called, "get out, and
fall in line here by the track. The order to go to Springfield has been
countermanded by telegraphic dispatch and we are ordered back to St.
Louis." "What! What's that?" we exclaimed, in astonishment. "It's so,"
said Wallace, in a tone of deep regret; "get out." "Well, don't that
beat hell!" was the next remark of about a dozen of us. But orders are
orders, and there was nothing to do but obey. The curses of the
disappointed soldiers in thus having this cup of satisfaction dashed