Still another class, mostly made up from the old Raider crowd, enlisted from natural depravity.  They went out more than for anything else because their hearts were prone to evil and they did that which was wrong in preference to what was right.  By far the largest portion of those the Rebels obtained were of this class, and a more worthless crowd of soldiers has not been seen since Falstaff mustered his famous recruits.

After all, however, the number who deserted their flag was astonishingly small, considering all the circumstances.  The official report says three hundred and twenty-six, but I imaging this is under the truth, since quite a number were turned back in after their utter uselessness had been demonstrated.  I suppose that five hundred “galvanized,” as we termed it, but this was very few when the hopelessness of exchange, the despair of life, and the wretchedness of the condition of the eleven or twelve thousand inside the Stockade is remembered.

The motives actuating men to desert were not closely analyzed by us, but we held all who did so as despicable scoundrels, too vile to be adequately described in words.  It was not safe for a man to announce his intention of “galvanizing,” for he incurred much danger of being beaten until he was physically unable to reach the gate.  Those who went over to the enemy had to use great discretion in letting the Rebel officer, know so much of their wishes as would secure their being taker outside.  Men were frequently knocked down and dragged away while telling the officers they wanted to go out.

On one occasion one hundred or more of the raider crowd who had galvanized, were stopped for a few hours in some little Town, on their way to the front.  They lost no time in stealing everything they could lay their hands upon, and the disgusted Rebel commander ordered them to be returned to the Stockade.  They came in in the evening, all well rigged out in Rebel uniforms, and carrying blankets.  We chose to consider their good clothes and equipments an aggravation of their offense and an insult to ourselves.  We had at that time quite a squad of negro soldiers inside with us.  Among them was a gigantic fellow with a fist like a wooden beetle.  Some of the white boys resolved to use these to wreak the camp’s displeasure on the Galvanized.  The plan was carried out capitally.  The big darky, followed by a crowd of smaller and nimbler “shades,” would approach one of the leaders among them with: 

“Is you a Galvanized?”

The surly reply would be,

“Yes, you ——­ black ——.  What the business is that of yours?”

At that instant the bony fist of the darky, descending like a pile-driver, would catch the recreant under the ear, and lift him about a rod.  As he fell, the smaller darkies would pounce upon him, and in an instant despoil him of his blanket and perhaps the larger portion of his warm clothing.  The operation was repeated with a dozen or more.  The whole camp enjoyed it as rare fun, and it was the only time that I saw nearly every body at Florence laugh.