The Story 01 Old Abe

By Malcolm and Marlaret Rosholt

The Story of Old Abe

Wisconsin's Civil War Hero

by Malcolm & Margaret Rosholt Illustrated by Don Mullen Copyright 1987 by Malcolm & Margaret Rosholt All rights reserved Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 87-090548 ISBN: 0-910417-09-1 . First Edition ROSHOLT HOUSE 406 River Drive, P.O. Box 104 Rosholt, WI 54473 Madison and Camp Randall

The Story of Old Abe Wisconsin's Civil War Hero

I am a bald eagle. My name is Old Abe. It is a name ofhonor as you will learn when youreadmy story. I have had a mostinterestinglife. I servedinthe Union Army for three years during the Civil War and took part in thirty-seven battles. I was wounded once when a bullet shot off some of my tail feathers. After the war I traveled in many states helping to raise money for hospitals,to take care ofwounded and disabled soldiers. But let me start from the beginning. Twenty years ago, in the spring of 1861, I was hatched from an egg in a nest in a tree top overlooking the south fork ofthe Flambeau River in northern Wis­ consin. I had a sister who was hatched two days· later. We both enjoyed the comfort ofa warm nest which my father had built of sticks and grass. My motherlaidtheeggs andbothmyfather and. mothertookturns keepingthem warm. Mymother told me she turned the eggs from time to time and .that she loved me even before I was hatched.

1 At thirty-nine days, she said, I pecked a small holeinmy egg shell andb"egan to cheep and cheep. She answered me and we talked together. It took me two days to get out ofthe shell completely. My mother couldn't help me but she encouraged me to get out. When I was hatched, I was covered with a soft grayish fuzz or down. My father had left a whole fish at the edge ofthe nest and my mother took a piece ofit to feed me right away. She could hardly get the food into my mouth because my head was so weak it wobbled from side to side. After one bite I fell asleep. When I awoke she fed me again and then I slept. After only one day I was stronger. Then I heard cheeping from the other egg and my mother answered. Two days later a little fuzz ball broke through the shell. That was my sister andI didn'tlike heronebitbecausemymotherwas fussing overher andfeeding hertoo. I wasjealous. I tried to grab the food away from her but my motherfed us both andthen we slept. I triedto peck my sister too but soon she was strong enough to protect herself. Everydaythefuzz on ourbodies becamethicker. We ate every four hours between naps. At the end offour weeks I weighedthreepounds andso did my sister. We were also beginning to grow stubby

2 wing feathers, and our claws were strong enough to grasp food for ourselves. When we were five weeks old my mother did not sitonthenestanymoreexceptatnight. Duringthe day my father and mother flew off,together in search offood. Butthey stillhadto'protect usfrom other birds. They screamed and whistled to warn strangers, like hawks and owls, to stay away from our,nest. This was their territory and anyone who came close could expect a fight. Our nest was so high in the tree we could see all around us, and we often watched the deer come to the riverfor a drink. Therewere beavers buildinga dam in the river too. Sometimes we heard the par­ tridge beating their wings, like distant drums. We eagles havesuchgood eyesightthatwe could see our parents returning to our nest while they were still far off. We cheeped and cheeped until they returned. We loved to watch them. Our parents were beautiful bald eagles with white heads and necks and white tail feathers. Their wings and body feathers were dark brown and shiny. They hardly moved their'wings to fly. They soared and circled most of the time, riding the wind currents, shifting their tail feathers to wing over, banking and turning, up and down, around and around. We knew that one day we would belike them.

4

At eight weeks we had all our feathers. Our mother taught us to put our beaks into the oil sack atthebaseofourtail andrub theoil on ourfeathers to make them shine. My sister slept more than I did. While she slept I walked around the edge of the nest exercising my legs and testing my wings into the wind to see if they were getting strong enough to fly.

6 Chapter Two Oneday while I was preeningmyselfattheedge ofthenest, a manwalked underourtree. He looked up and saw me. He started to chop at the tree with an ax. Whatin the world was he doing down there· shaking our nest? Pretty soon the tree moved and my sister and I began to shriek, hoping that our parents would hear us. The man had been chopping so fast that he did notcarewhich waythetreefell, and down itcame, crashing into a pile ofbrush. My sister was killed by a sharp stick that pierced her heart, and I was thrown from the nest and landed between the branches. I wasn't hurt but I did not know how to fly to get away. The stran·ger reached down be­ tween the branches and grabbed me. I screeched as loud as I could but that did not bother him. He stood there and gave a loud war whoop that could be heard up and down the Flam­ beau River. Two children rushed to his side and they looked at me and reached out to touch me. I pecked at them butmybeakwas softandtheylaughedwhen I tried to defend myself. 1"he man who kidnapped me was Chief Sky, a member ofthe Flambeau band of Chippewa Indi­ ans. He tucked me under his arm and away he went through the forest with the children running

7 to keep up. Finallywe cameto theirwigwam where the mother was making supper. She was boiling a piece ofbeavertailmixed with wild rice andmaple sugar. It smelled good. Thechildren, I counted three ofthem, treated-me well but sometimes they got a little rough and I squeaked in protest. But they just laughed and teased me more. Often they forgot to feed me, or maybe they did not have enough food for them­ selves. But the worst was that I had lost my freedom. I wondered whethermyparentswould everfind me. TheIndianskeptmetiedto a postwith a thinpiece ofbuckskin aroundoneleg. I wondered whetheror not I would ever soar through the air as I had seen my parents do. I don't remember how long I lived with the In­ dian family but one day Chief Sky told his wife that he was going to take me to a fur trading post and exchange me for some flour or corn. His wife agreed. She said I was extra work around the wig­ wam and shehad plenty to do without taking care of me. Besides, the children had grown tired of playing with me and I was left alone. Soon after, ChiefSky stuffed me into a sack and he and his family started walking to the trading post at Jim Falls. It was uncomfortable in that sack and it was hard for me to breathe.

8 The trading post was a place where trappers came to sell their furs and buy supplies. Loggers and lumberjacks also stopped there to buy things like soap, wool mittens, and tobacco. The post was owned by two brothers, Stephen and Daniel McCann, and Daniel's wife, Margaret. When Chief Sky took me out of the sack, Mrs. McCann said, "Oh, the poor creature. Whatis it?" "Him eagle, bald eagle," said ChiefSky. "Some day grow big, so big." He held his hand up to his waist to show how tall he thought I would be. Mrs. McCann agreed to give ChiefSky a bushel ofcornin exchangefor me andnow I belongedto a new family. The McCanns had two children and theyjumpedupand down andclappedtheirhands when they saw that their mother had bought me. Daniel McCann made a cage for me from an old wooden molasses barrel which he sawed in two. I .could see outbutI couldnotgetoutbymyself. I had to stretch my neck through a hole in the side to get myfood andto drinkfrom a panofwater. Themen caught fish for me to eat. They did not keep me in a cage all the time. Sometimes Mrs. McCann put a leash on one ofmy legs and took me out in the sunshine, and the children played with me. They held up a piece of meat for me to jump for, and they teased me by

9 holding it out ofreach. But after awhile they gave it to me and I gulped it down and screeched. This madethemhappybecausetheyknew I washappy. More and more I was allowed to be outside where I could flap my wings but I was not yet strong enough to fly. Sometimes in the evening we had music in the little log house, Daniel McCann played a violin and Stephen a mouth organ. The family sang and the children danced around. I was allowed out of my cage, and I danced too and screeched every time Dan McCann hit a high note on the violin. I always loved music and I think it was because I first enjoyed it with that happy family. One day I heard Dan McCann say to his wife, "I hear that President Lincoln is calling for volun­ teersto jointheUnionArmy. Some southernstates havebroken awayfrom theUnion andwe can'tlet that happen." "Indeed not," said Mrs. McCann firmly. "Well, I was· justthinking. I can't join the army myself on account of this bad foot of mine, but perhapsI canmake a smallcontributionto thewar effort. I hear that there are soldiers down at Eau Claire who are training to fight in the Civil War. The bald eagle is'asymbol ofour country, and our bald eagle sitting right here would make a good mascot for them. What do you think?"

10 Mrs. McCann nodded. "I think it's a splendid idea Dan. That little eagle there would make a perfect mascot, that is, ifthey want him." "Well, the only way to find out is to bring him to Eau Claire and see." Mrs. McCann nodded again. It was settled be­ tween them. I wasgoingto be offeredto a company of soldiers. I hated to leave here, especially the children, because we had spent so many happy hours together. I did not know it then but life had great things in store for me.

11 Chapter Three Again I was putinto a sack. Mr. McCanncarried me over his shoulder and walked fifteen miles to Chippewa Falls. We stayed over night in a board­ inghouse. Thenextdaywe joineda fleet oflumber rafts floating down the Chippewa River to Eau Claire. It was a good thing that we arrived when we did becausethesoldiers were gettingreadyto leavefor La Crosse, Wisconsin, on a steamboat, the Stella Whipple. The boat was lying alongside a levee on the Chippewa River on the city's West Side. There was a tavern near the river front on Me­ nomonie Streetwhere some soldiers were having a farewell party. Mr. McCann took me into the tav­ ern and held me up high for everyone to see. Of course, I caused quite a stir. "How much am I offered for this live eagle?" he asked. "He would make a good mascot for your company." "How much?" asked one ofthe soldiers. "Is three dollars too much? Itcost me that much to get here." The soldier shook his head. ·None of the others seemed to have any money either except for small change. Mr. McCann turned to the tavern keeper whom everyone called Mike, and said, "Mike,

12 would you like to donate an eagle to the company for a mascot?" "No, that's none ofmy business," he said. "What do you mean, none of your business?" said one ofthe soldiers. "We are going off to save the Union, while you stay home and get rich. Not fair. How aboutthatfellows? Theleasthecando is give us a mascot." "You bet," they answered. Bythistime, Mike realizedhewasintrouble. He threw up his hands and said, "You win, you win." He reached under the counter for an old cigar box where hekepthis cash. Hecountedoutthreesilver dollars and handed them to McCann. The men shouted, "Hurrah for Mike! Hurrah for the eagle!" McCann handed me over to the soldier nearest him and said, "He's all yours." The soldier took me but he looked confused. I don't think he knew what he was supposed to do with me. Then he asked, "What should I feed him?" "Feed him fish, dead or alive, feed him squirrel or rabbit. He likes beefsteak too but notfor break­ fast." Themenlaughed. "FromwhatI hear," oneofthe men said, "we'll be lucky if we get raccoon meat when we get to the south where we're going."

13 "Goodbye, gentlemen," said McCann. "May the eagle bring you luck." He patted my wing and left. I was sorry to see him go. The soldiers in the tavern had volunteered to serve their country for three years. Their pay was tp.irteen dollars a month, plus food, uniforms, blankets, shoes, and a place to sleep. John Perkins, a local business man in Eau Claire, had joined the army in July 1861. Then he helped a recruiting officer to get other soldiers to joinbecauseAbrahamLincoln, thePresident, was calling for volunteers. By the end ofAugust, Perkins had helped enroll several officers and a hundred and twenty-five men to form a company. They called themselves the "Eau Claire Badgers." Later they would be called "Company C of the Eighth Regiment of Wisconsin Volunteers." According to custom, the men ofthe company could elect their own officers, and they elected John Perkins their captain. Intheseveralweeks before I cameto EauClaire, the officers of" the company had kept the soldiers busy, marching back and forth. They were learn­ ing to obey commands and to march together in line. The soldiers did not have uniforms yet andthey wore theirownclothesto drillin.Theydidnothave muskets either. Instead the men earned a stick

14 aboutfive feet long and made believe itwas a gun. The men practiced coming to attention and, at the commandofanofficer, holdingthestickuprightin front ofthem. The men thoughtit was funny to be carrying a stick, but they knew they would soon have real muskets with bullets and that was no laughing matter.

15 Chapter Four Meanwhile, the steamboat Stella Whipple was' notreadytoleave. Thecaptainwashavingtrouble with the paddle wheel atthe stern ofthe boat, and there was a delay ofseveral days. Duringthis delay, thesoldiers remainedcamped in tents on the lawn of the Court House on the city's West Side. I was kept in a box. When one ofthe officer's wives heard that I was in a box, she said, "This will never do for a proud eagle.·We mustfind a perch for him and a leash so he can move around." The next day, several women from the commun­ itycameto CaptainPerkins andshowedhimwhat theyhadmadefor me. Itwas a five foot pole with a cross bar at the top for me to stand on. They had even wrapped some red cloth around the cross bar to makeitlook better. They askedthecaptainifhe approved ofthe perch and he said, "I certainly do andI wishto thankyouladies. I havea feeling that this little eagle bird is.going to make history some day." The women seemed pleased and gave the perch to the soldier who was taking care ofme. He put a shortleasharoundmyleg andputme ontheperch. Thefirst thingI couldthinkofwasto flyaway and find my parents. I jumped into the air and was

16 jerked back by the leash. Instead of going up, I went down and there I was, hanging by one leg. Theladieslaughed. Some ofthesoldiersranover to see what had happened and they laughed too. I didn't blame them. I must have been a funny look­ ingsight, myheaddown andmytail up. My bearer putme backonmyperch. Thenheshookhisfinger at me and said, "Now you be a good soldier and stay. Understand?" Okay, I thought, I suppose I'll have to follow orders if I am going to be in the army. I stood straightup onthecross barandflapped mywings. "Atta boy," said my bearer. Someone found a piece of meat and a dish of waterfor me. Bythis time I was dryas a fish and I gulped several mouthfuls of water before I had enough. I stayed with my bearer and other soldiers in a tent on the Court House lawn, seated atop my new perch. One night I must have snored a little be­ cause one of the men woke up and laughed. The next day I heard him tell the other m~n that I snored. On September 7, 1861 all the tents were taken down and the men of the "Eau Claire Badger Company" marched down to the levee where the Stella Whipple was ready to sail.

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My bearer carried me on my perch next to the American flag at the head ofthe column qf· soldi­ ers. At the levee a large crowd ofcivilians, wives, mothers and fathers had gathered to saygoodbye. They kept holding hands and hugging each other so long that itlooked as though Captain Perkins was never going to get the men on board the steamboat. Seeing me on my perch gave him an idea. He cameto mybearerandsaid, "Son,taketheeagleto the top-deck ofthe steamer and hold him up high . for all to see. Then yell, Everyone going to La Crosse with the eagle, get on board now." "Yes sir," my bearer said. He did what the cap­ tain asked. I stood straight, spread my wings and turned my head from side to side. The people on shore pointed at me and clapped their hands. Someone yelled, "Look, they've got an eagle." Justthenthecaptainofthesteamboatpulledthe cord on the horn and there was a loud blast that could be heard up and down the Chippewa River. The soldiers hurried to the gang plank. As soon as the last man came aboard, a deck hand pulled in the plank. The. lines holding the boattothelevee werecastoff. A bigwooden paddle wheel in the stern began churning the water and

19 away we went down the Chippewa River. There were people with handkerchiefs to their eyes and tears running down their cheeks, for who among them could tell how many of the soldiers would return to Eau Claire? These young men had a na­ tion to save.

20 Chapter Five We were finally on our way, sailing down the river to Reeds Landing. From there we turned southonthegreatMississippi Riverto LaCrosse. I was standing on the bow of the steamboat. My bearer held my perch steady as we rocked to and fro through the mighty currents ofthe river. I was having a great time watching the scenery. At one turn oftheriverwe passed a raftofa thousandpine logs tied together, floating down theriver. A small steamboat in the back guided the raft to keep it from running ashore. Since there were so many soldiers on board, we were crowded, anditwas hardfor everyoneto find a placeto sit. Butonebyone, thesoldiers managed to get over to the bow where I was perched to get a look at me. They kept asking my bearer where I came from. He only knew that someone by the name of McCann from Jim Falls had brought me to Eau Claire and sold meto a tavern keeper who gaveme to the company. Finally,I heard one of the soldiers say, "We've got ourselves an honest-to-goodness mascot here. I'llbetthereisn'tanotheronelike himintheUnion Army. No sir." Hearing this made me feel good. I pulled one of my legs up under my breastfeathers and st~od on

21 the other leg, while I dipped my head a little and turned from side to side. The soldier said, "Look ·at that little fellow. I think he understands what we say." Despite allthe attentionI was getting, I was still lonesome for my parents. I wondered whether or not they were looking for me. I had no way of letting them know where I was. My instinct told me that I was getting farther and farther away from home. I wondered whether I would ever see my parents again. Ittook a day and a halfto reach La Crosse. Here we sailed up the Black River a short distance to a levee where we went ashore. We then formed up to march to the Milwaukee and La Crosse Rail Road station. Onthewaythroughthe citywe stopped at an hotel for a sandwich and a cup ofcoffee. At the railroad station, we boarded the train for Madison. Manyofthemenfell asleep becausethey had not slept on the steamboat. When we reached Madison, the men were or­ dered into a column offour to march through the city. I was up front atthe head ofthe column with the Stars & Stripes. Two of our men were musi­ cians; one had a flute and one a snare drum, and we marched to the tune of Yankee Doodle. One of the men said it was the same tune that General Washington's men had marched to nearly a hun­ dred years earlier.

22 People on the streets clapped their hands as we marched by on our way to Camp Rand~ll, the big trainingcenterfor soldiers. Onebystanderpointed at me and exclaimed, "Look at that bird. What is it?~;. "That's an eagle," someone replied. When we reached the main gate of the training camp, we were joined by the Governor ofWiscon­ sin, Alexander Randall, for whom the camp was named. With all the music and cheering, I was getting more excited all the time. I reached out from my 'perch and grabbed a corner ofthe flag in my beak, and then you should have heard the noise. I stood up straightandflapped mywings. People shouted. I was the star of the show right up there with the governor. He turned to me and I think he winked and I winked back to let him know I was proud to be here. We marched to headquarters where each man was given a number for a room in a long shanty, called a barracks, for the soldiers to live in. Many ofthesebarrackshadbeenbuiltin a hurryto house the thousands of soldiers who were pouring into camp every month for basic training. Here we be­ came Company C, Eighth Regiment, Wisconsin Infantry.

23 The next morning our company collected their uniforms, blankets, shoes, overcoats, raincoats, muskets, and knapsacks. Next, Captain Perkins wanted a special soldier from our Company C to take care ofme. He asked for volunteers and nearly everyone raised his hand. The captain smiled and said, "I need only one. How about you Private McGinnis?" "Yes sir. I'll do it," said James McGinnis. "You're from a farm and I think you may know something about chickens and birds. You'll know what to do for our eagle. First I want you to make him a betterperch. Theonetheladies madeinEau Claire is not strong enough. Can you make one?" "Yes sir," said Private McGinnis, standing stiff as a ramrod. "What are we going to call the eagle, sir?" "Call him?" Perkins thought for a moment. "How about Old Abe? That's what people are call­ ing our President these days." Private McGinnis smiled. "Yes sir, Old Abe it is." He saluted his captain and turned, taking me with him to make a stronger pole and cross bar. We went to the quartermaster's department. Thatiswhere allthesuppliesfor thearmyarekept. The quartermaster said he would make the perch.

24 First he made a shield which he painted with red, white and blue stripes. Then he ran a pole five feet long through the shield ~hich made the cross bar strong and easier for me to sit on. Two days later, McGinnis carried me out to the parade ground on my new perch and shield. Cap­ tain Perkins had the bugler call the soldiers to­ gether. "It's about time that Old Abe be mustered into the army as a regular soldier," he said. The men shouted their approval. The captain had found some red, white and blue ribbons. He walked up to my perch and wrapped these ribbons around my neck and shoulders. He saluted me and then swung around and faced the men. Smiling, hesaid, "Inow declare OldAbe to be one ofus, a soldier, ready to defend his country." Again there was shouting. "Hurrah, for Old Abe!" By this time, the whole Eighth Regiment at Camp Randall was beginning to take an interest in me. One day Colonel Robert Murphy,. com­ mander ofthe Regiment, told the soldiers that the eagle was a symbol of freedom and courage. He said that when Caesar's Legions were fighting for Rome two thousand years ago, each legion carried thefigure ofaneagle, paintedingoldleaf, ontop of a longpole. TheRoman soldierslooked to theeagle for leadership·and courage.

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The Eighth Regiment was made' up often com­ panies and when the other companies heard the story ofthe Roman eagle, they asked Captain Per­ kinsifI couldbethemascotfor thewhole regiment and not only for Company C. Captain Perkins agreed. You can imagine how proud I was to be wanted by the whole regiment. And after that the Eighth Regiment became known as the "Eagle Regiment." To make it easier to carry me on the perch, McGinnis had a leather pouch made. He attached the pouch to a special belt around his waist. Then he put the bottom end of the pole into the pouch and leaned the pole against his chest to hold it straight up with both hands. At night he usually dug a small hole in the ground for my perch to stand in. Later, when we were onthemarchinMississippi andMissouri, we often hadto lie down onthegroundto rest. Atthese times, my bearer lay my perch on the ground too. I had a shortleash while we were marching, but a sixteen foot leash when we stopped to rest. This gaveme a chanceto stretchmylegs andpeck atthe grass. But at night I was on a shortleash because McGinnis did notwantanyonetrippingoverme in the dark. We spent several weeks at Camp Randall. At least three times a day the soldiers were on the

27 parade ground marching back and forth to the commands ofthe drill instructors. McGinnis took me out on the parade ground ev­ ery day after I had my breakfast. For breakfast I either had fish or a wild rabbit which local people brought into camp to sell. Now and then, McGinnis took me down to Lake Mendota for a bath. I waded into the water while he held the long leas.h. I could lift my wings and splash around and that made me feel good. Another important part of caring for me was to pick thelice from thefeathers aroundmyheadand neck. I had seen my' parents grooming each other and picking the lice from each other's necks and head, but I had no one to help me. I could use my beak to get at my wings, and even tail, but I could not reach around my neck. So I was happy every time McGinnis said, "OldAbe, it'stimewe lowered thepopulationoflice onyou before theytakeover." He used a coarse comb which he worked slowly up and down my neck and around my head. When hefound a louse, hecarefully putitin a papersack, and after he had found as many as he could, he burnedthesack. Thesoldiers hadlice too, butthey got rid of most of them by boiling their clothes. McGinnis said he couldn't boil me so he used a comb instead.

28 Chapter Six On October 12, 1861 thewhole EighthWisconsin Regimentwas orderedto leavefor the stateofMis­ souri where we would probably see ourfirst action against Confederate forces. We marched to the North Western station and boarded a train for Chicag_o. / The men in one of the companies .were from Janesvilleand sincewe were passingthroughthat city, theladies thereinvitedus to a picnicin a local park. I ate a meat sandwich but I didn't like the cake and ice cream. After the picnic and some patriotic speeches by local citizens, we marched back to the station and resumed our train journey to Chicago. In Chicago we had to change stations. We ar­ rived at the North Western station on the north­ side and we marched south several blocks to the Illinois Central station where we boarded another train. Governor Randall went with us as far as Chi­ cago, and marched with us between the two rail­ way stations. There were people standing along the boardwalks who cheered and clapped as we passed by. The train took us to Alton, Illinois, on the Mis­ sissippi River. There was no bridge across the river. We had to use a ferry boat which delayed us

29 severalhoursbefore allthesoldiers andequipment could get across the river. After we had reached the Missouri side, we marched south a few miles to St. Louis on our way to Benton Barracks, a Union headquarters on the north side ofthe city.* AtSt. Louis we were metbythemayorandother city officials who welcomed' us. We stopped to listen to some patriotic speeches. Then our regi­ ment was ordered to continue on to Benton Barracks. As we marched through the city, people along the boardwalks pointed at us, wondering whether we were Union s9ldiers or Confederate soldiers, because our men were wearing gray uniforms and they should have been wearing blue. The uniforms had been made in Wisconsin on orders from Governor Randall. What the governor had not been told was that the uniforms for the Unionsoldiers were supposedto beblue. TheSouth wore gray. It was no wonder that the people were confused. We hadcome from theNorthbutourmen were dressed in gray. Spectators began throwing eggs and tomatoes at us because they thought we were Confederate soldiers. When the officers saw what was happening, they realized something had to be done real fast.

*Presently the site ofFairgrounds Park in St. Louis.

30 Thequartermaster, wh"o wasin chargeofsupplies, said, "I've got a wagon full of blue winter coats. Could you use them?" The officers halted the march and handed out the coats. It was a warm day but the men had to wearthebluecoats. In additionto theircoats, each man carrieda knapsackonhis backpackedwith a blanket, raincoat, spare clothing, soap, knife and fork, and even a small frying pan, all together weighing fifty pounds. The march was resumed and at least twenty of our troops dropped out with sunstroke. Some of them had to be taken to a hospital. Then I heardpeople alongthestreetmakingfun of me. One voice I heard called me a "Yankee crow." Another called me a "wild goose." With allthenoise andshouting, I becamefright­ ened andI took offfrom myperchinonebigjump. I broke theshortleashMcGinnis hadonmyleg and I headed into the wind and rose steadily upward and landed atop a chimney on a tall building. Theregimentstoppedinthemiddle ofthe street. The soldiers scattered through the alleys, whis­ tling and waving their arms, and calling to me to come down. From my view at the top ofthe chimney, I could easily see McGinnis below, and he was waving a piece ofmeatinthe air. ButI washavingtoo much

31 fun watching everyone running around, trying to figure out how to get me down. Finally Colonel Murphyoffered $25 to anyonewho could catchme. After awhile I became a bit bored all by myself atop this chimney and I flew off, wondering what to do. ThenI noticed some scraps down inthe alley behind a store and I flew down to seeifI couldfind something to eat. As I was nibbling, a policeman sneaked up behind and grabbed me with both hands. I screamed. I was afraid he was going to hurtme. Buthewas a kindmanandtalkedto mein a quiet voice and earned me back to McGinnis. The policeman refused to accept the reward, but I heard Colonel Murphy tell McGinnis to find a stronger leash for me. He did not want me to get away again, he said. But it had been fun and it gav~ me a chance to test my wings. '

33 Chapter Seven A few days after we reached Benton Barracks our regiment was ordered to chase some~Southern soldiers who were dressed in plain clothes instead ofuniforms. They were burning bridges along the roads to the south of St. Louis. But we could not catchthem becausetheyknew where to hideinthe hills and caves ofMissouri. We returned to Benton Barracks. It was the first time I had been carried on my perch into a battle field, andI considereditanhonorto be atthehead of our regiment where everyone could see me. While we were still at Benton Barracks, our Eighth Regiment joined with four other regiments from the Midwest to form a "brigade." Thenthesoldiers from theotherregimentsinthe brigadewantedme to be theirmascottoo. I started as a mascotfor a companyinEau Claire, andthen a regiment at Camp Randall, Wisconsin, and now a whole brigade of 5,000 officers and men in Mis­ souri. We became known as the "Eagle Brigade." I had grown since leaving Wisconsin but my head and neck and tail feathers had not turned white yet. But I was happy because the men wanted me with them all the time. No matter where we went, the men asked, "Where's Abe?" They always wanted to know that I was safe.

34 One day a couple of soldiers with nothing to do watchedMcGinnis bringme a panofwater. SinceI was on the long leash in camp, I jumped to the ground and walked over to the pan. But I wasn't sure about those tw~ visitors. I had to watch my tail feathers because one time a soldier had pulled outone ofmyfeathers for a souvenirandthathurt. McGinnis pointed his finger at the water pan and said, "Abe, my friend, it's time for you to have a sip of this famous Missouri water. If you don't want it, I'll drink it myself." When I saw him touch the pan, I walked over to him and looked around to see if it was safe and then I began to drink. As I finished I clucked a bit. Thatreally surprisedthetwo visitors. Oneofthem said to the other, "Did you hear? That bird talks English." His friend answered, "Nah, he's just clucking." The other said, "You're wrong, sir. I heard his bearer tell that ea~le to drink or he was going to take the water away from him, and that bird walkedrightup to him and putonefoot ontheedge ofthe pan and started drinking. Just like that." The soldiers walked offbut I could see they were still arguing. Soon word got around camp that I could speak English.

35 We spent at least two months at Benton Bar­ racks, most of the time drilling, column left and column right. One day everyone got real excited when a report came in that a small army of Con­ federate soldiers hadbeen seen nearourcamp, and out we went. But we couldn't catch up with them and when we entered Fredricktown, a small city about seventy-five miles from St. Louis, the men went sightseeing. McGinnis tied me to the roof of the local Court House where no one could get at me, and he went off with the other men to enjoy himself. J sure didn't like standing up there all alone, with no­ thing to do. But when McGinnis returned in the afternoon I forgave him because he brought me fresh water and a big rooster to eat.

36 Chapter Eight During our winter stay in Benton Barracks, some of the soldiers got measles and the doctors did not know what to do for them. They died. Oth­ ers got mumps and typhoid fever. Finally, some men got smallpox"and were sent to a special place called a "pesthouse" to quarantinethem. Thenthe doctors vaccinated the other soldiers and the smallpox was brought under control. But during the war, four times as manymen died from disease and illness as from bullets. In January, 1862, after three months in Mis­ souri, the Eighth Regimentwas orderedto proceed by steamboats down the Mississippi River to t Cairo, Illinois. Here we met thousands of other soldiers arriving by steamboat from the Ohio River, and by train from Chicago. Cairo was a busy place. Hundreds ofwagons of food for troops andfeed for horses were storedhere until the supplies could be shipped farther south. General Grant was preparing for battle with Con­ federate armies defending the city ofVicksburg in Mississippi. I remember we had quite a few soldiers in our regiment called "veterinarians." These were men who knewhowto take careofhorses. Mostofthem were from the farm. These "vets" as they were called, drove the wagons with supplies when.the

37 army was on the move. They also drove the ambu­ lances for the wounded soldiers. The wagons had wooden sides and a roof to keep out the rain and dust. Our men did not like Cairo. We arrived there when the snow was melting and the streets were all mud. Horses could hardly pull the supply wag­ ons through the streets. Here.I got my first look at Brigadier-General Ulysses S. Grant. He was standing on the steps of the post office one day when we marched past and he was smoking a black cigar. Ulysses is Latin for the Greek name Odysseus, thekingofIthaca. Heledthe Greeks to victoryin a war against the Trojans ,thousands of years ago. So Granthad a famous nameto live up to. He later became head of all our armies in the North and after the war, he was elected the eighteenth Presi­ dent ofthe United States. Our Regiment remained in Cairo for a couple of months in the spring of 1862, and then moved farther southontheMississippiRiverto Memphis, Tennessee. Fromthere, on May5, 1862, we marchedtwenty­ five miles to Farmington, Mississippi, where I got my first taste of a real battle. I had no idea there could be so muchnoise, anddust, andblacksmoke

38 floating inthe air. Thesmoke camefrom theblack powderthatthesoldiers usedintheirmuskets. The Confederates used the same kind of muskets and the smoke rose from both sides. At Farmington my comrades came under heavy fire from the big guns ofthe enemy. The big guns were called cannon. Shells were flying right over our heads. Captain Perkins ordered our company' to lie down on the ground and let the shells pass over. He told McGinnis to take me to the rear somewhere where I would not get hurt. As I recall, M~Ginnis was standingin a pot hole and when Captain Perkins told him to take me awayhedidn'tdo it. I guess hethoughtI was safe. But when I saw my comrades lie down, I jumped from my perch to the ground. McGinnis grabbed my long leash and pulled me back. I jumped down again, and he pulled me back. But when I jumped the third time, he must have realized that I was scared. Finallyhelaydown onthegroundwithme. The shelling stopped suddenly after some soldi­ ers from our regiment started shooting back at the Confederates. We lost a few men in this battle but the one we missed most was our good Captai~ Perkins who was hit by a bullet and died a few hours later. I will neverforget himbecausehegave me my name, Old Abe.

40 A few weeks later, I also lost my friend and bearer, McGinnis, who had taken care ofme ever since tr~ining at Camp Randall. He got sick and died. DavidMcLain, whom I hadknown sinceEau Claire too, took his place. After taking part in several battles here and there in Missouri in the summer of 1862, we were sent back to northern Mississippi to a village called Corinth, not far from Farmington. It was mid-October and the Confederate army had attacked another regiment of our brigade at Corinth and we were sent marching on the double to help them. The battle went on for nearly three days. I saw a colonel from one of our regiments jump from his horse which was shot from under him. Almost at the same time a bullet came my way and cutrightthrough my leash. It did not hurt me buttheforce ofthebulletknocked me offmyperch. I heard some soldiers from the Confederate side yell "Ya-hoo-o-o," when they saw me fall. We were that close, our two sides, the blue and the gray. Except for a short piece ofthe leash hanging to my leg, there was nothing to stop me and I hopped along the ground in front ofour soldiers who were firing at the enemy. Private McLain ran after me, afraid I might fly in the wrong direction and get captured by the Confederates. As 'he ran, a bullet passed clean

41 through his pantsleg, scaringhimbutnothurting him. Then anotherbulletcame mywayandhitme between my left wing and tail. And there went one ofmy precious tail feathers which I saw one ofour soldiers scoop up for a souvenir. Ofcourse, McLainwasjustas pleasedas I wasto be alive. He .caught up with me and tucked me underhis arm andran across a field andinto some trees. The noise of the battle could be heard in the distance, and clouds ofblack smoke floated in the air. We waited an hour and I saw some ofour men running into the woods to find a better place from which to shoot. TheConfederates were comingstraightatthem, their bayonets fixed, yipping and yelling like coyotes. It was something our men had never heard before. It raised goose pimples on my com­ rades. They were scared. So was I. But after the Confederates had cut through one part ofour line, ourcannonbegan shootingbackatthem andthey stopped coming. Then I heard a bugle blowing for them to pull back. Our soldiers had to admire the way these men charged into our gun fire. They were brave, these men in gray. OnthethirdandlastdayofthebattleofCorinth, new soldiers joined our brigade, and this time the Confederates had to retreat. At one point, one of their colonels was so sure he had won the battle

42 that he shouted for all to hear, "Corinth is ours!" and a split second later a bullet struck him dead. Our regiment lost some men too, and one man lost his courage and ran away. He was a deserter and a disgrace to our regiment. One ofmy friends was taken prisoner, but after the battle was over, the Confederates exchanged him for one oftheir men we had captured. Not long after the battle of Corinth, one of our officers told McLain that he would have to clip my wings to make sure I would not flyaway, espe­ cially in the middle of a battle. The soldiers were sure that I had helped them to win the battle of Corinth and they did not want to lose me. I did not carry a gun, the officer said, but I gave them courage. 1."hen one day a barber came to our tent with a pair of clippers, the kind that farmers use to clip the wool from their sheep. While McLain held me, the barber clipped my wings and tips of my tail feathers. I looked like a buzzard, and I was afraid my comrades would laugh at me~ McLain was so unhappy about what the barber had done to me that he did not want to be my bearer any more. He asked to be sent to another regiment. Next thing I knew, I had a new bearer, Private Edward Homiston, also from Eau Claire. He took care of me for more than a year, the longest of anyone. I liked him a lot.

43 Gradually my wing tips and my tail feathers grew back. I was growing taller too. I heard my comradesinthe regimentsay, "Thatlittle OldAbe isn'tso little anymore. He surehasgrown sincewe left Camp Randall."

44 Chapter Nine Onourlongmarches, which seemedto go onday after day, rain or shine, I heard the soldiers in the reartalkingaboutme. EverytwistandturnI made was'a matterfor discussion andittook theirminds off the boredom of the march. Some ofthe men thought that since I was a bird of nature that I could tell what the weather was goingto be. When I acted a littlemorefidgety than usual, they were sure it was going to rain. If I screeched a little, a. thunderstorm was coming. And when I stood on one leg and scratched my breastwiththe other, itwas a signthatsomething badwas aboutto happen. Actually, all I wasdoing was scratching the lice out of my feathers. And theyneverstoppedtalkingaboutthetimeI jumped to the ground at Farmington to dodge the shells flying overhead. On these long marches we often ran out offood, except for a cracker we called "hardtack." This hardtack was made from flour, salt and water baked in the oven like a big cookie, only square. Thegovemmentboughtthousands ofboxes ofthis hardtack for the Union Army to carry in their haversacks. The haversack was a leather pouch that hung by a strap around the men's shoulders withthewatercanteen. Themenatethishardtack when there was nothing else to eat. Believe me, we

45 went many days with hardly en~ugh meat and potatoes, mainly because our supply wagons couldn't keep up with us. Onetimewhenwe were outofflour,ourregiment captured a village in Mississippi. Here the men found an oldflour mill on a river. Themill wasrun by a water wheel which turned two big millstones. When the grain was fed into the stones it was ground into flour. The owner ofthe mill disappeared when we en­ tered the village but there were men from Wiscon­ sin who knew how to operate flour mills too. They found some bins of grain and they ground the grain into flour, poured the flour into sacks and hauledthemto ourcampto make bread. Before we leftthemill, themenburneditbecausetheydidnot want the Confederates to use it any more. It was a sad thing to see but that's the way it is in war. It gets awfully hotin Mississippi in the summer time and onthelongmarches I often becamequite thirsty. One day my throat got so dry, Homiston could see that I was gasping for air. He stopped and unhooked .his canteen and held it over my beak and poured a few drops ofwateronit. When I felt that water, I opened my mouth and he poured in a few drops ata time. Whata relief! I flapped my wings to express my thanks. When the other soldi­ ers saw me sharing the water from Homiston's canteen, one ofthem shouted to him. "Hey, Horny, you better get a canteen for Old Abe." Another

46 soldiersaid, "Ifyou need more water, you canhave some of mine." Homiston waved. "Manythanks, gentlemen. I'll keep you in mind." Hepicked up my perch andran to get back in front of the column. After that I usually drank from his canteen. Thatgavethemensomethingmoreto talkabout. On one ofour night marches, we stopped to rest on a hillside overlooking a wagon road. There was a full moon and down below we could see a long line ofcarts and wagons pulled by both mules and horses, all loaded with baggage and household goods. Alongside marched men and women and children. They were slaves escaping to freedom away from their plantation owners. They moved past us like ghosts in the night, no one talking. They were afraid that they would be seen and cap­ tured by Confederate soldiers and sent back. But the slaves were safe with us and we let them pass. After all, we were fighting for their freedom. Not long after the battle of Corinth, we learned that another regiment from Wisconsin, the 12th would be passing through our camp. To honor them, our boys lined up along both sides of the road, standing at attention to allow our visitors to pass between us. When the men ofthe 12th Regiment saw me on my perch, they saluted me as they marched by. Homiston tickled me and I knew that was my cue

47 to standup, turnmyheadfrom sideto side andflap my wings. Then the men cheered. Homiston told me that many ofhis friends were writing about me in their letters home. Newspap­ ers carried stories about me too. One newspaper quoted a Confederate Colonel who had offered a reward to anyone who could capture me, dead or alive. That was scary but I don't know ifthis was true or not. You can't believe everything you hear, you know. We wentinto camp a few days after the battle of Corinth for a rest and to wait for new soldiers to replace the ones we had lost in battle. Among these replacements we often got soldiers who joined the army to collect a special sum of money called a "bounty." We called them "bounty soldiers." There. was another type called a "substitute." The army began to draft soldiers when there were not enough volunteers to fill the ranks. Each town was given a quota to fill. Ifa man was drafted and he didn't want to go to war, he could hire someone totakehis place. A substitutecould getasmuch as five hundred dollars. We did not get a chance to rest much. We were constantly on the move. We had the reputation of being the troops with the longest legs in the army. We could marchfartherwithoutstoppingthanany

49 other. My new bearer, Homiston, who carried me on my perch on these long marches, never com­ plained. I knew itwas hard for him to carry me all the time. Butit seemed that all my bearers consid­ ered it an honor, and Homiston said he would rather carry me than a musket. I couldn't carry a gun either so that made two of us.

50 Chapter Ten When GeneralGrantmountedhislastcampaign to take the city ofVicksburg, our brigade was sent to help him. There were hills and hollows and ra­ vines all aroundus. When we were toldto advance,:" we raninto a hornet'snestofConfederatesoldiers: They were on some hills looking right down on us. Theremusthavebeen a million ofthem. Atleastit seemed that way to us and they filled the air with bullets andcannonfire. Someofourmenranback. Somecrawledtotheleft, someto theright, butthey­ had nothing to hide behind. They were trapped. Our whole brigade was being shattered. Confed­ erate shells shotdown theflags ofourEighthReg­ iment where I was perched. The flags were picked up at once by other men but Homiston did not know what to do with me. The Confederates were shooting at me as well as the flags. Suddenly Ho­ miston slipped, taking me with him to the ground. Just as he got up I made one big leap from my perch and I' pulled him with me and he fell and hit his head against a log. He was stunned for a se­ cond. When he saw our men with the regimental flags running back, he got up, put me back on my perch and we stumbled into a hollow. Here the funniest thing happened. As we crouched in that hollow, the soldiers saw a rabbit run into a brush pile and one ofthe men reached

51 into the brush and captured it. Even though they had to eat hardtack that day, they· wanted me to have the rabbit. I had hardly eaten for several days and I was hungry enough to eat the whole rabbit, fur and all. Before this battle was over, our brigade suffered the heaviest losses ofthe entire war. It happened on May 22, 1863, a day none ofus will ever forget. But if Grant could not conquer the Confederate army in Vicksburg by gun fire, he would do it anotherway. He surroundedthecity andcutoffall supplies, ammunition and food. The Confederates had 30,000 troops in and­ aroundthecityto feed andthey also hadto feed the people who lived inside the city. They were run­ ning out of food and many were starving. Grant waited. This was called a siege. After the defeat of our brigade near Vicksburg on May 22, 1863 it took a couple of weeks for new soldiers from the North to replace the men we had lost. When the replacements arrived, General Grantorderedustomarchfarthertothesouthand tightenthecircle hehaddrawn aroundVicksburg. In early June, our Eagle Brigade crossed the Mississippi River at Young's Point, Louisiana, where we stopped a day to rest and to swim in the river and wash clothes.

52· Homiston took me down to the shore line and let me splash aroundinthewaterandbelieve me that felt good in that hot weather. At Young's Point we had orders to set up camp and guard the road to Vicksburg and not let any Confederates escape. But we had to camp on low, swampy ground not far from the Mississippi River, and as a result many ofour men became sick. It seemed like there was a fever inthe air. Themen died becauseno one knew what to do for them. Furthermore, the cooks seldom washed their hands and disease passed from one person to the next. The city ofVicksburg was a key city held by the Confederate armies. Whoever. had control of the city controlled the Western states. Grant had to takeVicksburg orlosethewarintheWest. Finally, onJuly 4, 1863, outoffood and outofammunition, the Confederate commanderin the city was forced to surrender his army of30,000 troops. Although Gene~al Grant was victorious, there was not too much reason to rejoice because thou­ sands ofUnion soldiers and thousands ofConfed­ eratesoldiers, Americans all, died orwere disabled for life in the battles that were fo~ght around Vicksburg. One of the highlights or our stay in the camp near Vicksburg was a visit from General William Tecumseh Sherman. When he saw me in front of

53 my tent, he tipped his hat and smiled. That made mehappyandthesoldiers were proudto thinkthat the big general would salute me. Later I heard he was marching through Georgia.

54 Chapter Eleven After the surrender of Vicksburg, our brigade left Young's P.oint and marched north, directly through the city. You can'timagine how itlooked. There was hardly a building left standing and soldiers andcivilians were beggingfor food. Ittook a few days before Grant got wagons of food in to feed the civilians but he allowed the Confederate prisoners to return to their homes after he took away their guns. FromVicksburg we marchedfarther north a few miles to Big Black River Bridge. Here our brigade setup tents andmade camp. Here we were on high ground so only a few soldiers got sick. With the surrender ofVicksburg, itnow became fairly safe for businessmen from the North to visit our camp. They came to sell things like tobacco, soap, razors, socks and other necessities. With them also came photographers to take pictures of us. One day Homiston came into our tent and said: "Abe, my boy, you are going to have your picture taken. Some of my friends from Company Care outside andtheywanttheirpicturetakenwithyou to send to their families. And when the photo­ graphersaysfor everyoneto standstill, I'lltell you to stay. Understand?"

55 Of course, I understand. Anything to please Homiston. He picked upmyperch andwe wentout­ side to join his friends. There were seven men be­ sides Homiston and most of them were carrying Enfield rifles instead ofthe old muskets they had used earlier. Myron Briggs from Eau Claire was carrying the Stars and Stripes. While Homiston held my perch steady, the pho­ tographer took the picture. Then he said, "Relax, your picture will last forever." He was smiling, but he was right. This picture along with others sold by the thousands after the war at state fairs and veterans reunions to raise money for hospitals and to help wounded soldiers. The soldiers in the picture were· wearing blue coats over grayish trousers. They also wore tall, blackhats although notlong afterthis picturewas taken, they were issued blue caps with a sharp looking shade in front. The Confederates called us "blue bellies" or "Yankees," and we called them "Johnny Rebs" because they had rebelled against the United States. The Southern states had black slaves to work for them and they did not want to give them up. But President Lincoln said that Americans should not live halfslave and halffree. All Ameri­ cans had to be free no matter what their color. That's why we were fighting this war and that's

56 why our brigade was camped right here on Big Black River Bridge. After the surrender of Vicksburg, many of the soldiers thought the war would soon be over. But they were wrong. The fighting went on for nearly two more years. I remember an incident from this period. A young general, Joseph Mower, was trying to cap­ ture some Confederate horsemen. Our ·regiment was ordered to help him. To do this we had to marchtwenty-five miles inthenight, throughrain and mud. I had a new bearer too, named John Buckhart, who replaced Homiston. I knew Homis­ ton was a blacksmith, and the army probably needed him to fix wagons. On this long night march, Buckhart could hard­ ly keep up, and he struggled to stay ahead ofthe column, me on my perch as usual. Everyone was soaked tq the skin. But that long march was a success. Near Pleasant Hill, Louisiana, we cap­ tured some Confederate officers who were spend­ ing the night in an old plantation house. They never dreamed that anyone would be out on a night like this and they were caught off guard. General Mower told Buckhartto show me to the Confederate officers and tell them they had been captured by our eagle Old Abe.

57 On hearing this, one ofthem, a colonel, blinked and said, "Sah, am ah to believe that this little 01' birdis th"e sameone we have beenhearingso much about?" "Yes sir," replied Buckhart. "Well, ~h declare," said the colonel. "You-all got a nerve using an eagle to capture us. But ah am right glad" to meet this famous bird. What's he fixin' to .do next?" Everyonelaughed, themeninblue, andthemen in gray.

58 ,Chapter Twelve After that incident, it seemed to me that we marched from one end ofMississippi to the other, and allover Louisiana, advancing one day, pull­ ing back the next, riding steamboats, and wading across rivers and swamps. We halted once in awhile to set up our tents and rest. Also, the men had to take time to repair the leatherontheirboots, darntheholes intheirsocks and to wash clothes. They also went out on patrol looking for food, especially cabbage, onions, tur­ nips, and chickens, in fact anything to replace the salt pork they got from the army. When the soldiers made camp, they set up their tents in rows, one row facing the other with a wide walk space between. It was also a place to put up the cook stoves. The stoves had tall pipes to take the smoke away but when the wind blew, the smoke often came down and almost choked the cooks. The cooks threw scraps ofmeat, vegetables and flour into a kettle to make a stew. No one liked to serveascook becausethemenwere neversatisfied. Theycomplainedthatthefood waseithertoo salty or not salty enough. One night I heard a soldier ask the cook, "What are you going tQ feed Old Abe?"

59 Thecook replied, "I'llfeed himfirst, that'swhat, and ifthere's anything left, you get it." That brought loud protests from the men. But I do have to admit they always gave me the best they had. Many of the soldiers got packages from home with cheese, cakes, and cookies. Whenever anyone got a food package he had to share it with his tent mates because they were his friends and friends always share. By this time I had learned a new trick. I raised myrightlegto shakehandswithmybearer. When­ ever I did this, my bearer asked, "So what's with the handshake, my friend? Hungry again?" And I clucked to let him know I was hungry and he said, "Okay, you'll get something." By now, I felt so closely attached to my bearer that he often removed the leash from my leg and allowed me to walk about the camp. On my first outing, I walked into a tent where there were some soldiers seated on stools. One said, "Here comes Old Abe himself. What can we do for you?" I just gave them the eagle eye. Then they found some leadballs, thekindtheyusefor bullets. Theyrolled a ball across the rough, wooden floor ofthe tent. I ran afteritthinkingitwas a Junebug. Thiswasno bug I found out. This was a joke and the soldiers laughed because they had fooled me. I tossed my

60 head and walked out. But after that, chasing the bullet became a regular game we played. ThenexttentI wentintowasempty. Therewas a halfa pail ofwaterstandingonthefloor and since I was thirsty, I jumped to the rim ofthe pail and overitwent. Hello! Atthatmoment, a soldiercame in the door. He shook his finger at me, "Now, look what you've done. I carried that water halfa mile from the creek and you come along and spill it. Now beat it." Sorry Bud, I thought, and walked out. Never know about those pails. In another tent I found some men playing cards and one manhad a fiddle onwhich hewas playing an Irish tune, the same tune over and over again. No one was listening. Others were writing letters to their families, or reading letters and old news­ papers from home. When one ofthe men got a picture, called a tin type, he passed it around for everyone to see, be­ cause everyone was lonesome for something from home. One day I will never forget. My bearer took me offmy leash and said, "Take a hike Abe, it will do you good." OffI went, down the alley between the two rows oftents. Atlast,I cameto a tentwheretherewasno one at home. I walked in to run inspection, as they

61 say in the army. Lo and behold, there was a fried chicken on a stringtiedto thetop ofthetentpole. I made one jump for the chicken and managed to bite off a leg and hurried out before anyone re­ turned. When the soldiersinthe' alley sawme come out of the tent with that piece of chicken in my beak, they started to chase me. I clutched the chicken leg in my claws and flew sorile distance and perched in a big hickory tree. A whole platoon from the Eighth Regiment ran afterme yelling, "OldAbe's gotourchicken. Catch him." I hadfound a branchhighup inthetree andI put that chicken in my claws and started to eat. Those boys were going to have a hard time catching me now. The platoon was soon underneath the tree, wav­ ing and whistling for me to come down, and one of them even threw a stone at me. But he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. Finally, one of them crawled up thetree andedged overto me andwhile I was still picking atthechicken, hepushedme off thelimb andI fell to theground. I wasn'texpecting that. The men thought they had me now and they madea circle aroundme, crouchingforward, sweet­ talking me and whistling.

63 I rose straightintothe airlike an arrow andflew across the field and landed in another tree. And here come the brave hunters, barking like dogs, thinking they could scare me. Butthis was just as much fun for me as for them. This time they threw sticks at me. I was in the top ofan old oak at least sixty feet high, and they didn't get close to me. They stood there scratching their heads and argu­ ing about what to do. Then one man threw his hatinto the air to scare me, and the wind took the hat into the tree and hung it there. He squealed, "Soo-o-o-ee, there goes my hat!" The others laughed so hard they could hardly stand. Now, while the soldiers were arguing how they were goingto catchme, I sawmybearerapproach­ ing, on the double, carrying a live chicken. He stood below thetree whereheknewI could seehim, swinging that chicken around by its legs. It was squawking its head off. Themore I watchedthis, thehungrierI gotand I flew to the ground where Buckhart picked me up. We walked off, me under one arm and the chicken under the other. "Did you see that?" I heard one soldier say. "I told you that bird can talk." On the way back to camp, Buckhart told me I was a naughty boy and he was going to pull a feather out ofmy tail and make me eat cold beans

64 for supper. Of course, I knew he was teasing me. Insteadofcold beans, I wastreatedto a catfishone ofthe men had caught. It was the end ofa perfect day. My tent mates ate the chicken.

65 Chapter Thirteen The last battle I took part in was at Hurricane Creek, Mississippi. ItwasearlyAugust1864. I was upfront onmy perchwith Buckhartholdingwhen an ordercamefor usto attacka Confederatefort on a hill. But there was a river between us. Our men plunged into the river, holding their rifles and' bullet pouches above their heads. They waded : ashore on the other side and rushed the hill. When ' the Confederates saw us coming, they knew that we had more soldiers than they had, and they turned around and ran down the hill. We did not follow. Instead we were ordered to turn back and report for guard duty in a camp near Memphis, Tennessee. BythistimetheEighthRegimentwas entitledto go.home to Wisconsin. The men- had volunteered for threeyearsofservice andtheirthreeyearswere up. The officers asked everyone to sign up for another year but they got only a few to re-enlist. Then someofthemen saidthey would bewilling to rejoin the regiment if they were given permis­ sion to spend a month athome with their families. This request was granted and, as a result, most of them later returned to the regiment in Tennessee. Butthere were a few men who thoughtthey had had enough of marching and hardtack. They wanted to go home and sta-y home and their wish was granted.

66 But before the regiment temporarily broke up, thequestion arose: whatto do with me? ShouldI go on a furlough in Wisconsin and return to the regi­ ment later, or should I be mustered out for good? A meetingwas calledonthe paradegroundwith at least five hundred officers and men attending, all formed in ranks, company on company. Stand­ ing front and center was Colonel Lucius Hubbard, our new regimental commander, and in a loud voice he said, "Old Abe's term of enlistment has , expired. What do you wish to do with him?" One soldier raised his hand and said, "I think Old Abe should be mustered out ofthe army. He is more than a hero to us; he is a hero to the whole country north ofthe Mason-Dixon line. We should not risk his life any longer. The regiment can get another mascot, an owl or something, but it can never get another Abe. I say we~send him to the government in Washington." There was a buzz of loud whispers after this proposal, and another soldier raised his hand, "Sir." "Proceed soldier," said the colonel. "Ithink OldAbe belongsinEau Clairewhere he joined us. I know the people there ~ll be honored to care for him the rest ofhis life."

67 There was more buzzing, and a third soldier raised his hand, "Sir." "Proceed." "Old Abe has been an inspiration to everyone here and he should be taken to Madison and pre­ sented to the people of Wisconsin. He is already a legend, and he belongs to the state." Voices ofagreement filled the air. "Okay, Madi­ son it is," said Colonel Hubbard. I was standing on my perch offto the side while all this was going on. When the colonel finished talkillg, Buckhart tickled me and I rose to my full height and flapped my wings and that brought on a new wave of clapping and cheering.

68 Chapter Fourteen Within two days our regiment left Memphis in two trains, bound for Madison. We had to change trains in Chicago. Buckhart left our group in Chi­ cago butJohn Hill, also a member ofCompany C, took his place. Hill took care of me the rest of the way and escorted me to Madison. Captain Victor Wolf, who commanded Company C after Captain Perkins died, was also going to Madison with the troops. On September 26, 1864, Captain Wolf and John Hill took meto see GovernorJamesT. Lewis inthe Capitol Building. As we enteredhis office, thegov­ ernor rose from his chair and shook hands with Captain Wolf. He looked at me as ifhe had never seen an eaglebefore andsaid, "Pleasedto meetyou Old Abe, I've heard a great deal about you, and so has everyone else. What can I do for you?" Captain Wolf then explained to the governor how much I ~ad meant to members of the regi­ ment. He said that I had actually taken part in thirty-sevenbattles, big andsmall, thatI hadbeen a constant source of inspiration under fire, and thatI hadkept up the spirits ofthemen on many a long march. "Amazing," said the governor. "IfI may say so," CaptainWolfcontinued. "Itis the wish of the regiment that you accept this be­ lovedhero ofours as a sacredtrustfor thepeople of Wisconsin."·

69 "Agreed," said the governor. "And you can rest assuredthatI will personallyseethatheisgiven a good place to live. He will be treated with respect and honor." Captain Wolf thanked him and the governor in turn directed oneofhis assistants to takemeto the basement of the Capitol Building where quarters would be provided for me. Hill stayed with me a couple ofdays to help get me settled and to train a new man to take care ofme. Two adjoining rooms in the basement were' cleared out. Three saw horses were putin for me to ,jump around on, and also a high perch. I even had a bath tub and a table to eat on. The floors were covered with a layerofsawdustto makeiteasierto keep clean.

70 Chapter Fifteen It took me a few days to get accustomed to my new quarters in the basement of the Capitol in Madison. There weren't any soldiers waiting on me. It seemed quiet compared to all the noise and thunderofbattlethatI hadbeenlisteningto for so long. When Hill finally left, I felt deserted. When the weather was nice my new keeper took me outonthelawnoftheCapitol. Hehadbeentold that I would obey him but I fooled him once. I had been cooped up for a week and when he put me on the ground to stretch my legs, I took off. I saw a flock of pigeons sailing over head and I thought, let's have some fun. When the pigeons saw me coming, they picked up speed and headed for their hutch. I could not get into their tiny houses and they pranced around and cooed, teasing me be­ cause they had escaped. My keeperran afterme, andkeptcalling, "Come back, Abe, come back." I circled aroundandcamedown easyandlanded right on my perch. It was great to be flying. I whistled and clucked for the benefit ofmy keeper buthesaid, "Now, you'vehadyourfun, Abe. We're going back to quarters." A crowd ofpeople had collected and were watch­ ing me, mouth open. Then someone shouted, "It's Old Abe!"

71 As word got around that I was living in the Capitol Building, I began to get visitors, more and more every day. There were big glass doors which they could see through. People waved to me, espe­ cially the children. I fluffed my wings a little and they thought I was waving back at them and they laug~ed or giggled. By now the feathers on my head, neck and tail were white, while the feathers on my breast and wings were a rich brown. When the light shone on me, my feathers glistened because I cleaned them with the oil from my oil sack. My legs are bright yellow and my claws jet black. I weigh ten and a half pounds. When I stretch my wings out they are more than six feet from the tip of my left wing to the tip of my right wing. Thatis wider then my keeper with his arms stretched out. I suppose I resemble my parents now, that is, if they arestillliving, andI imaginethey arebecause we eagles live to be fifty to a hundred years old. Sitting here in my new quarters I have plenty of time to think about the life I have lived these last three years. I havetraveledfar and now I am back in Madison not far from Camp Randall where I was inducted into the army.

72

Memories flood over me when I think ofmy tour of duty with the Eighth Regiment. I narrowly es­ caped death more than once and I am thankful that the war is almost over. Butsometimes, I haveto chuckleto myselfwhen I hear some ofthe stories they tell about me. One newspaper man wrote that I flew off one day into the countryside looking for food. When I returned two days later, I had a lamb in my claws. I have trouble lifting a rabbit offthe ground. How could I lift a lamb and fly with it? No way. , On another occasion, some newspaper reporter said I flew over the battlefield, screaming to en­ courage our regiment. IfI had tried anything like that, the Confederate sharpshooters would have shot me dead on the wing. Still another story started after the battle ofCo­ rinth, in Mississippi, on the day my leash was cut offby that stray bullet. One ofour soldiers, or one oftheirs, saidhe sawme landon a stonefence and pick up a rockineach oneofmy claws andfly back over the Confederate troops·and drop the rocks on their heads. We eagles like to toss stones back and forth in the air, but not rocks, and not on people. But the wildest story I ever heard was the one about my flying down to a table outside an enemy tent and picking up a secret map and returning with it to our regiment. Can you imagine that?

74 Chapter Sixteen When I retired from the army, a new life began for me. But I was not content to spend my time jumping from one perch to the next in my base­ mentapartment, orto walk aroundthelawnofthe Capitol. I wanted to do something for people. Dur-

o ingthewar,themensaidthatI gavethemcourage. Now I wanted to give courage to the men who had

been 0 wounded and disabled, and comfort to the families ofmen who had been killed. When the war started, the army was not pre­ pared to care for the wounded. The United States SanitaryCommission was organizedafterthewar startedwithmoneyfrom privatecitizens andrelief societies. But the commission mostly took care of the wounded on the battle field. When the soldiers came home there were no hospitals for them. Thus, I was happywhen myoIdfriend from Eau Claire, the Reverend J.o. Barrett, asked Governor Lewis if he could take me to Chicago to the NorthwestSanitaryFair.Thefair wasto beheldto raise money for hospitals and nursing care for veterans. Barrett asked John Hill to come back to Madisonto take careofme onthe trip. Barretthad written a book about me which he planned to sell and he also wanted a picture ofme. To get a good picture, a photographer in Madi­ son asked Hill to take me to the roofofa tall build-

75 ing where there was plenty of light. I was to be photographed standing on my perch. While the photographer was getting ready to shoot the pic­ ture, I looked out at the blue sky and sawall that freedom out there, just waiting for me, and sud­ denly I had an urge to fly. Without thinking too much about it, I took off. But I forgot about that pesky leash. Bang! Next thingyou know I was draggingmyperch, hanging over the edge of the roof, head down. I screamed, loud andclear, andHillrushedto me andpulledme backup. Phew! Thatwas a close call. I hurtmyleg too and could hardly stand on it for a couple of days. ButHill gotme backonmy perch andgaveme a piece ofsausagehehadinhispocketandpettedme and that made me feel better. The photographer took several pictures of me and later selected the best one for Barrett to sell at the Fair in Chicago. In Chicago, thebuildingwheretheFairwasheld was like a museum. There were swords, guns, flags, canteens, knapsacks, andallkindsofthings from the battle fields. Butpeople wanted to see me more than anything else. Barrett sold thousands ofcopies ofthepicturethatalmostcostme mylife, and his book sold just as well. When the Fair closed four weeks later, my spon­ sors hadraised$16,000 for hospitals. A newspaper man from the Chicago Tribune said I was the

76

"grandestcontributortothefair." I wasgladthatI could be ofhelp to others. I heard that someone offered Barrett$10,000 for me. Later 1 heard that P.T. Barnum, who had a museum in New York City, offered $20,000 but 1 can't be sure ifthese stories are true. General Sherman was one of the more famous visitorsto thefairin Chicago. When hecameto my booth, he reached out to pet me. 1 didn't recognize him at first so I fluffed out the feathers around my -neck and gave him the eagle eye and he drew his handback. "Imustretreatthis time," hesaid. I felt badly that I did not recognize him. There were people watching him and when they heard him say "retreat," they laughed because they knew he was not in the habit ofretreating. Later, I was taken to Milwaukee for the opening ofa bigSoldiers Home FaironJune 29, 1865. They called it Soldiers Home Fair because the money raised would go towards a home for sick and wounded veterans. Thousands of people came to say hello to me at thefair, andmypictureandthebook aboutme sold fast, or as one person said, "by the baskets full." 1 was given a place to stand on my perch in the middle of a big canvas tent just outside the main ~xhibit building. Here a man namedM.C. Mc­ Cracken was showing live 'birds and animals and

78 other curiosities. He had arranged for me to be in the center of the tent, and around me were four smaller eagles, each named after a famous Civil War general, namely Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, and McClellan. He also had live birds and animals, including owls, hawks, and even a bear that one ofthe regi­ ments brought back from Virginia. He also had two sand hill cranes, some sheep, a cow, red foxes, a raccoon, two badgers, some stuffed beavers, ot­ ters, and a two-headed calf. It made me feel like I was living in a zoo. It was so warminthattentthatI became sick. My bearer took me away for a couple ofdays to get some rest and fresh air. After several weeks in Milwaukee, we returned to Madison. It was good to be home again and to strut around the lawn on the Capitol grounds and in the hallways. I did nothavemuchtimeto relaxbefore I wasput on a trainfor Janesville, Wisconsin, to be shownat a State Fair. Here I shared a tent with a raccoon that had been a mascot for the Twelfth Artillery Regiment. He wasn't much to look at and I would not have paid a nickle to see him but people were streaming through our tent all day, paying ten cents to see us. Ofcourse they paid more attention to me than that ratty raccoon.

79 At these fairs my bearer was kept busy answer­ ing all the questions that people asked about me. One girl even wanted to know how I carried a gun in all the battles I was in.. My bearer said I did not carry a gun but that I carried a pistol under one wing. Buthewinked atthegirl to letherknowthat hewasmakingup a storyandshesmiledto lethim ( know that she und~rstood. After the war was over, many of the veterans who came to the fairs and reunions brought their families to see me. Many ofthe men hadjojned an organization called the Grand Army ofthe Repub­ lic, better known as the G.A.R. Membership in the G.A.R. was open to all soldiers who had served in the Union Army during the Civil War. I liked to listen to the veterans when they got together to talk about what they did during the war. When the members of my regiment got to­ gether and talked about what they had done at Vicksburg, you'd think they took the city single­ handed. But who could blame them? They were alive. Theyhadleftbehind9,059 Wisconsin menin the cemetery at Vicksburg.

80 Chapter Seventeen On January 1, 1866 less than a year after the Civil War ended, Lucius Fairchild became gover­ nor of Wisconsin. He was a veteran who had lost an arm at the great battle of Gettysburg and he · was often calledthe"ManwiththeEmptySleeve." The governor and I became good friends, and he made sure that I had everything I needed. I had · little time to be lollygagging before I was off to Milwaukee again, this time with the governor to , attend the National Convention of Soldiers and Sailors. I marched down Grand Avenue with him. · There were bands playing and flags flying. After my return from Milwaukee, I was intro­ duced to my new bearer, Captain Angus Mc­ Donald. I could seethathelikedmeandI likedhim too. He was an officer in the Wisconsin National Guard andthegovernortold himto takegood care ofme. McDonald had been told by the veterans in our regiment that I would chase a bulletrolling in the grass or on the floor. He tried me and I chased the bullet although by now I certainly knew it was no June bug. Then McDonald taught me another trick. He removed a flintlock from a musket and laid it on . the ground and taughtme to pick it up in my beak and run with it. Then he made believe he was chasing me to take it away.

81 He also taughtmeto standonhishandandwalk up his outstretched arm as far as his neck and rub my white feathered head againsthis cheek. When we were attending reunions, this trick never failed to attract attention. People oh-ed and ah-ed, say­ ing, "Isn'tthat cute? Old Abe kissin' the captain." CaptainMacwas so kindto me thatI didlove him. In September of1866, more than a year after the warended, CaptainMcDonaldtookmeto a special meetingofveterans beingheldinPittsburg, Penn­ sylvania. It was called the "Boys in Blue" conven­ tion. There were several thousand men and their wives from every state in the North. Governor Fairchildwas one ofthedelegates from Wisconsin and he wanted veterans from the eastern states to see me. When we arrived in Pittsburgh, Captain Mc­ Donald took me to the best hotel in the city. The nextmorningwe marchedto the CityHallwhere a big meeting was in progress. When the audience saw Captain Mac approaching the speaker's plat­ form with me on my perch, they rose to their feet and cheered. Hearing the noise, I flapped my wings and that brought on more cheering. That evening there was a torchlight parade through the streets ofthe city. Also in the parade were gailydecoratedfloats, carriagesandbuggies, and red painted fire engines from the city's fire department. A band played Yankee Doodle.

82 lrodeinthebackseatofa carriagepulledbyfour white horses. Captain McDonald held my perch upright so everyone could see me. Several impor­ tant men of the city marched on both sides of the carriage as an honor guard. I turned my head from side to side so everyone could see my face. People along the boardwalks threw flowers at me, shouting, "Hurrah for Old Abe." Not long after this trip, someone asked the gov­ ernor if he could take me to Paris, France, for a World's Fair, but the governor said, "No, we can't risk losing Old Abe." It would have been fun though, to see Paris. So, instead ofParis, the governor said itwas all right for me to attend a meeting of veterans in Peoria, Illinois. Here a monument had been built on the Court House Square dedicated to the men who servedintheForty-seventh IllinoisRegiment. Thisregimentwas a partofmy old Eagle Brigade. Captain McDonald and a wounded veteran, Au­ gie Weissert, accompanied me on the train to Peo­ ria. When we arrived, an honorguard was waiting to escort us to the ceremony. I heard there were forty thousand people there. As I approached, McDonald carrying me, you should have heard the cheering. People were wav­ ing handkerchiefs and yelling, "Hurrah for Old

Abe," just like in Pittsburgh. When I flapped my wings, the children screamed with delight. Par­ ents were bothlaughingandcrying. Everyonewas happy that the war was over and that we were at peace. After Peoria we were invited to Elkhorn, Wis­ consin, for a veterans reunion. I heard people talk­ ing about General Grant and many of them thought that he should be the' next President. One ofthose who agreed was Governor rairchild. One day, Captain Mac came to me and said, "Abe, you·and I are going to Chicago with a hundred other people from Wisconsin. There is go­ ing to be a meeting down there to decide who will be the Republican candidate for the office of the President ofthe United States." So there I was on the train with a hundred dele­ gates, all going to Chicago. After we got there we joined a parade nearly a mile long and marched to a big hall to the music of a band. On the platform was a statue of the head of Abraham Lincoln who three years earlier had been assassinated by John Wilkes Booth. On the other side of the platform was a big picture of General Grant. When Captain Mac carried me up front, you might have thought, from all the shout­ ing, that I was being nominated for President in­ stead of Grant.

86 In any event, Grant was nominated and the band played "Hail to the Chief," and when I fluffed out my feathers and perked up my head, people saidI helpednominateGrantfor president. Laterthatyearhewas elected theeighteenthPres­ ident ofthe United States.

87 Chapter Eighteen I was home in my quarters in Madison most of the time in 1869, but I was never lonely because I had school children visiting me every day. Some­ times they visited with me when I walked up and down the hallways ofthe basement ofthe Capitol Building. Other times my bearer took me upstairs to the rotunda ofthe Capitol, a beautiful place to visit. When theweatherwasnice I was often outonthe lawn. My young friends were constantly wishing thatI mightsheda feather ortwo whichtheycould take home. I could have sold a basket full every day, I think, butI don'thavethatmanyfeathers to spare. What would I do without them? One day a little girl came to see me. Her name was Jane Addams.* Her parents had brought her to Madison by horse and buggy all the way from Freeport, Illinois, which is sixty-five miles, justto see me. I happened to be out on the lawn of the Capitol with my keeper leading me around on my leash. When Jane saw me, she walked right up to me, like she knew me. She reached out and stroked my

*Jane Addams(1860-1935), founder ofHull-House in Chicago to help immigrant families. Campaigned for child labor laws and eight­ hour day for women. Shared Nobel Peace prize with Nicholas Mur­ ray Butler in 1931.

88 head and said, "Old Abe, I love you. All summer I have been looking up at the skies toward the Wis­ consin state line hoping you would fly over our apple orchard. I hoped that some time you would break away and fly to freedom. But since you haven't come to see me, my sister and I have come to see you. You are my hero because you fought to free the slaves. I want to be like you and help people." She stroked me again. She had a gentle touch which made me feel good. Then her mother came up and said, "Now Jane, it is time we leave. You have had your wish. You have met a hero." They turned to leave, but I could see that Jane did not want to go. There were tears in her eyes as she waved goodbye. That same year, I got an invitation to take part in "the 4th of July parade at Whitewater, not far from Madison. There I rode on the barrel ofan old cannon being pulled by a team of horses. The weather was hot. My throat became dry and I whistled to my temporary bearer, Eugene Bowen, and he knew what I was whistling for. He found a glass ofwater and held it up for me to drink. That r~ally impressed the folks along the way and I heard them say, "Look at that, will ya, Old Abe drinks from a glass." Shucks, that was nothing. They should have seen me drin~ froni Homiston's canteen when we were marching through Louisi­ ana.

89 During the fall of1869, Governor Fairchild was travelingalloverthestate, askingvotersto re-elect him to office a third time. Almost everywhere he went to speak he took me with him. If it wasn't McDonald carrying me it was someone else. I re­ member we were in Fond du Lac, Burlington, Elk­ horn, Evansville, La Crosse, Eau Claire, and Chippewa Falls. In November, Governor Fairchildwasre-elected for the third time. I was happy because I knew as long as he was governor I would not be neglected. LaterthatyearI attendedreunions oftheGrand ArmyoftheRepublic'in Racine, Wisconsin, andat Ann Arbor, Michigan. GovernorFairchilddidnotrunfor office in 1872. He was replaced by C.C. Washburn, a one-time armygeneral, andthenthings beganto changefor me and not for the better. My good friend and companion, Captain Mac, a secretaryinthestategovernment, wasinchargeof helping veterans. Every day he had to answer so manyletters askingfor helpthathehadlittletime to be with me. There was a financial panic allover the United States in 1873. Many banks closed and people lost their jobs. Governor Washburn, who had replaced Fairchild, got blamed for the panic in Wisconsin. He lost the next election to William R. Taylor.

90 When Taylor took office, the first thing he did was to dismiss many people who were working for the state. He also fired my friend McDonald. Things gotworse for me then. My newkeepers had no experience andtheywere careless aboutfeeding me and grooming me for lice. I became ill. I lost weight and could hardly stand on my two legs. Luckily, Hugh Lewis, a veteran who had served in the Iron Brigade at Gettysburg, and now was working in Madison, came by one day. When he saw how sick I was, he said, "This is no way to treat a famous veteran." He found a blanket to wrap around me and or­ dered special food. He stayed with me and I got better. AfterI hadrecovered, I was taken to anotherbig veterans reunion in Milwaukee. Here I rode in a carriage something like the one I rode in at Pitts­ burgh. As the parade marched down Grand Avenuewe were caughtin a freezing rain andI got a badcold. Thistimeittook me severalweeks to get well.

91 Chapter Nineteen One ofthe greatest moments ofmy life came in 1876 when the state legislature voted to spend five hundreddollars to sendme to Philadelphiato take part in the lOath birthday of the signing of the D~claration of Independence. There was also an International Exposition held there at the same time. There were Centennial celebrations held in ev­ ery state that year but the main event had to be in Philadelphia where the Declaration of Independ­ ence was signed in 1776. HarrisonLuddington, ournew governor, wanted me to represent Wisconsin at the Centennial. He got myoId bearer, John Hill, and the Reverend Barrett to go with me. I was happy to be with old friends again. Therewere severalbighalls attheInternational Exposition and I was given a booth in the Hall of Agricultu~e. Here people came to see displays of farm produce and machinery, and here is where I spent the summer of 1876. My picture, painted in oils by James R. Stuart, was also on display with the Wisconsin exhibits. I neversawso many peopleinmylife. Theykept coming, day afterday, manyspeakinginGerman, French, and other foreign languages. They came

92 from allover the world and when the exhibition closed more than eight million people had visited Philadelphia. Revered Barrett sold thousands ofcopies ofmy life story, and Hill sold pictures of me. He taught me to make a peck markonmy pictures andpeople paid extra for what Hill called my "autographed" copy. Occasionally, when Hill wanted to entertain a group of school children he waved an old battle flag infront ofme andthatwasmycue to jumpand flap my wings. The children begged Hill to wave the flag again and we went through the same mo­ tions and everyone squealed with delight. Again and again, as people went by my·booth, I heard someone say that I was a national symbol. Butsoldiers who wentbysaidthatI was more than that: I was a national hero. From Philadelphia, the Reverend Barrett took me to Boston where he came from originally. The people in that city were concerned about the Old SouthMeeting House. Itwas an old church, which was in such bad condition that it was going to be torn down. The governor ofMassachusetts asked Barrettto stay a few days. When the newspapers wrote a story about me, I became a star over night. Hun­ dreds ofpeople paid to see me and the city raised a lot ofmoney to save the Old Meeting House.

93 Two years later, in December of 1878, I was in­ vited back to Boston. A new bearer, Peter Field, was sent along to take care ofme. We had a booth inside the Meeting House where people could eas­ ily see me. Mr. Field and I entertained the visitors with the old walk-up-the-arm trick and also chas­ ing the bullet. To mark my farewell appearance, there was a program held on Washington's Birthday, Febru­ ary 22, 1879, in the Old South Meeting House for the children of Boston. Alice Baker read a poem shehadwritten aboutme, and a churchchoirsang a special song written in my honor. After the program the children came up to pet me. There were some children who were blind and they strokedmyhead, neck, andbackbecausethat wastheonlywaytheycould tell whatI looked like. I neverknewtherewere children who could notsee. I closed myeyes andtriedto imaginewhatitwould be like to be blind. When we returned to Madison, Field took me backto myquartersinthebasementoftheCapitol. It was too cold outside for me to exercise in the snow. I got most of my exercise walking up and down the halls in the basement. Mike Smithwas thenextmanto takecareofme. He took me on one ofmy lasttrips out ofstate. We went to Chicago for a political rally for former

94 President Ulysses S. Grant who was thinking of running for President again. We stayed at the elegant new Palmer House Hotel. At first the manager did not want to give Smitha room. Buthetoldhimiftheywantedmeto attend the banquet that night at the hotel, he had to give us a room. Back in Madison, just about the time I was get­ ting used to Smith, he had to leave, and George Giles took his place. Giles and I went to a few meetingsin Wisconsin andtotheMinnesotaState Fair in St. Paul. Finally, we attended a soldiers reunioninRockford, Illinois. Andthatwasmylast hurrah. The winter of 1881 was extremely cold and I could not go out much. In the latter part ofFebru­ ary, a fire broke outin the basement ofthe Capitol where oils and paints were stored. The fire was quickly brought under control but while it lasted, the black smoke from the paints driftedintomyquarters. I inhaledthesmokeandit hurtmylungs andI gotsick. I lostmyappetite and asthedays passeditbecameharderandharderfor me to breathe. I knew that I was dying. Now I havetold you my story. I havehad a good life ofservice to myfellow man andto my country, but this is the end. Giles is holding me in his arms to make it easier for me to breathe.

95 Epilog OldAbe, Wisconsin's Civil War Hero, died inthe arms of his bearer, George Giles, on March 26, 1881. Veterans organizationstalked aboutholding a military funeral for him in a local cemetary at Madison. But others thought he should be pre­ served through taxidermy, and this decision was adopted by the state authorities. However, taxidermists of the period were not ableto recapture thereallikeness ofOld Abe. Most people agreed it was his heroic bearing that was mIssIng. On September 17, 1881, Old Abe was exhibited for the first time in a black walnut glass case. The case stood next to a number of regimental flags broughtbackto Wisconsin byveterans ofthe Civil War. The case was taken to Milwaukee for the

96 State Fairin 1891, and to Chicago for the World's Columbian Exposition in 1893. In both cities Old Abe still attracted wide attention. TheStateHistorical SocietyofWisconsin moved into its new building on State Street in 1900, and Old Abe's case was moved to the Society's Mu­ seum, together with regimental flags and ·Civil War memorabilia. But veterans around the state objected and asked thathebebroughtbackto theState Capitol, and in 1903 Governor Robert M. LaFollette asked the Society to return Old Abe and the flags.

In 1904, less than a year after Old Abe was re­ turned to the Capitol, the wing of the building in whichhewasexhibitedcaughtfire. Itwas coldand the fire fighters had trouble bringing the blaze under control before it destroyed most ofthe wing where OldAbewas kept. Itmightseemthathehad methis destiny; hedied as theresultofonefire and his body was consumed in the flames of another. Letters of condolences on the final passage of Old Abe came from school children around the state and as far away as Detroit and Boston. Betweentheyears 1901 and1907, thestatelegis­ lature ofWisconsin approved a total of$131,000 to build a memorial to the Wisconsin soldiers who gave their lives in the attack on Vicksburg. The Memorial stands in the Vicksburg National Mil-

97 itary Park and is featured by a handsome column ofgranitefifty-seven and a halffeet tall, cappedby a six foot bronze statue of Old Abe. Governor Francis F. McGovern went to Vicks­ burgwith a delegationofveteranstoformally ded­ icate the monument on May 22,1911, forty-eight years to the day after the Eagle Brigade suffered its heaviest losses. Bronze statues of a Union infantryman and ca­ valryman adorn thebaseofthecolumn andbronze plaques at the base record the names of9,059 offi­ cers andmenfrom Wisconsin who diedinthe cam­ paign to capture the city.

The spirit of Old Abe, the Eagle hatched on the southfork ofthe FlambeauRiver, lives on. In 1926 Eau Claire Memorial High School adopted the name "Old Abes" for its athletic teams. For more than a century the J.1. Case Company of Racine, manufacturers of farm machinery, has used the replica of Old Abe atop a globe ofthe world as its company logo. In 1987 an original sculpture of Old Abe, three feet high, was mounted ontop ofa newbandstand on the grounds oftheWisconsinVeterans Home at King, Wisconsin. TheChippewaValley Museum atEauClairehas a replica ofOld Abe at the entrance to the grounds

98 in Carson Park, and a mounted eagle in the mu­ seum to represent him. In World War II, the lOlst Airborne Division adopted a shoulder patch of an eagle's head on a black shield and called themselves the "Scream­ ingEagles." They stilluse this patch. OldAbe was an inspiration to the men in World War II even as hehad beento themeninblue eightyyears earlier. There will never be another like him.

99