The Drummer Boy of Shiloh

   In 1932, a dottering old man dressed in an old army uniform asked for quiet.
   A crowd of well-wishers had gathered to celebrate his eightieth birthday. Everybody present, including the press, referred to him as Major John L. Clem, but wanted to be remembered as "the Drummer Boy of Shiloh."
   Johnny Clem was one of the youngest soldiers of the Civil War. He was just ten years old when he served as a drummer boy for the Twenty-second Michigan Infantry.
   The soldiers of Johnny's unit saw a little action in 1861, but it wasn't until the battle of Shiloh in early April of 1862 that they received their baptism by fire, and it just so happened that the young drummer boy got caught in the middle.
   On April 6, Johnny's unit was caught off guard and was almost pushed into the Tennessee River. During the fighting a Union soldier dropped right at his feet, nailed by a sharpshooter. Ten-year-old Johnny picked up the dead man's rifle and drew a bead on a Rebel colonel who had failed to see the small lad with the big gun. In the next instant, the Confederate officer was on the ground. Johnny Clem had killed him with one shot.
   The battle of Shiloh lasted two days and up to that time was the bloodiest conflagration that had ever been fought on the American continent. The North lost 13,000 men, while the South counted 10,700 casualties.
   An account of the battle of Shiloh of course made the newspapers, and in every piece, the story of Johnny Clem's bravery was told. Soon the entire nation knew about him.
   Johnny ended the war as a teen-age sergeant and sported a medal given to him by the secretary of the treasury. He remained in the army and retired at the age of sixty-five with the rank of major. When Clem died at the age of eighty-two, his military tombstone was inscribed with the usual information: name, regiment, company, and state, but in Johnny's case it also carried an epitaph: "Here lies the Drummer Boy of Shiloh." Now no one would forget.

A Blow to Southern Womanhood

The Sanctity of Womanhood:
   Every southern male was taught to respect it, and when Yankees invaded their homeland during the Civil War, they fought for it almost as fiercely as they did to keep slavery. Then along came Captain John Dowdy. On Christmas Day, 1864, one woman put him to the test, and all of his fine upbringing couldn't save her life.
   Captain Dowdy rode with Morgan's Raiders. He and his comrades raised such havoc in Tennessee and Kentucky that a $1,000 bounty was put on their heads. On September 4, 1864, Dowdy was encamped with the rest of the troopers about two miles outside of Greenville, Tennessee. General Morgan was headquartered in Greenville proper, at the Williams home. He thought he was safe there, but he had reckoned without Mrs. Williams, who had dollar signs in her eyes.
   Captain Dowdy rode in to the Williams home at four o'clock in the morning to receive orders from the general for troop movements that day. Morgan sent a directive to the troops to be ready to move by 7 a.m. Dowdy saluted smartly and took his leave. He never saw his commander again.
   At 6 o'clock over eighty Yankees came out of nowhere and surrounded the Williams home. The general grabbed his pants and boots and ran, still in his night clothes, into the garden to hide, but it was futile. His betrayer, yelled out, "There he goes," pointing to the shrubbery in which Morgan had secreted himself. His pursuers quickly found him and put several bullets in his chest.
   Meanwhile, the camp was also attacked, and Captain Dowdy was captured and taken to an Ohio prison. He remained a prisoner of war for almost four months and managed to escape. After crossing the Ohio River, the captain rode through Kentucky and Tennessee. He was headed back to Greenville to settle a score.
   On December 25, 1864, Captain Dowdy arrived at the Williams home. He didn't have to go to the house; he spotted Mrs. Williams coming up from the cow pen. With his arms folded, Dowdy blocked the path.
   "Oh Captain Dowdy," a stunned Mrs. Williams exclaimed. Dowdy responded with a terse, "Correct Ma'm."
   Sensing that she was in trouble, the woman cried out, "Captain, don't kill me. I'll give you a thousand dollars." Dowdy calmly replied, "If you have anything to say, you have five minutes to talk."
   The shaken woman dropped to her knees, preferring at that point to address the Almighty. When the five minutes expired, so did Mrs. Williams. Captain Dowdy shot her at point blank range, killing her instantly. He picked her up and carried her to the front porch. After crossing her hands, he rode off without looking back.
   Notwithstanding the fact that Captain Dowdy shot an unarmed woman in cold blood, chivalry remained alive for many years after. Women continued to be the objects of manly affections and respect, except for those rare instances when circumstances, such as Captain Dowdy faced, tore the mantle of virtue off the fairer sex, and they came tumbling down from their pedestal to a  more level playing field.