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THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
m 
 
The War of the 'Sixties 
 
 COMPILED BY 
 
 E. R. HUTCHINS 
 
 W/io served in the United States Army, aud later in the United States 
 
 Navy, as an officer, from May, 1861, to December, 1865, 
 
 a?id who is now a physician 
 
 NEW YORK 
 THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 1912 
 

 ■ H9-f 
 
 Copyright, 1912, by 
 The Neale Publishing Company 
 
 v^^ 
 
 £CI.A312040 
 
"Fold up the banner, smelt the guns; 
 Love rules, her gentle purpose runs. 
 A mighty mother turns in tears 
 The pages of her battle years, 
 Lamenting all her fallen sons." 
 
PREFACE 
 
 With the large number of books on our library shelves con- 
 taining such a vast amount of information concerning the 
 four years of war betv^^een the North and the South, it would 
 seem almost presumptuous to attempt to add to it, yet it is 
 hoped that this volume will be an addition, of both interest 
 and value. 
 
 There are some of the survivors of that war who think that 
 they can give a detailed history of it, with minute descriptions 
 of all the engagements they were in. The Editor gravely 
 doubts this assumption. That there are a very large number 
 who were especially impressed with one or more incidents 
 there is no doubt. To such I have appealed for contributions, 
 and from such only have I accepted articles for publication. 
 My aim has been to collect real incidents — real facts from real 
 participants — from persons who were there. 
 
 These pages are not sectional, for it will be found that both 
 the Union soldier and the Confederate have contributed. 
 
 But two or three of the articles have been published before. 
 One or two appeared several years ago in Harper's Weekly, 
 but the manuscripts of these were sent to me by the authors, 
 and Harper & Brothers kindly permitted their use here. To 
 both I am indebted, as, indeed, I am indebted to all contribu- 
 tors. There have come to me scores of letters from the North 
 and South, conveying the most cordial good wishes, and ex- 
 pressing pleasure at the prospect of the publication of this 
 book. 
 
 I am particularly grateful to Mrs. Logan and Mrs. Pickett, 
 — distinguished women, — widows of two famous generals, a 
 Union and a Confederate, who, amid a busy life, cheerfully 
 found time to contribute an article each, and expressed an 
 earnest hope for the early appearance of this book. 
 
 It is a brief record of a few of the many deeds of two 
 
8 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 mighty armies, the bravery and heroism of which the world 
 has never seen paralleled, the equal of which will never march 
 again beneath the sun. Whether the men wore the blue or the 
 gray, whether they followed the Stars and Stripes or the Stars 
 and Bars, it is certain that better soldiers never again will 
 march to the music of fife and drum. 
 
 Better than all, when the curtain fell on the last act at Appo- 
 mattox, Peace, blessed Peace, had come. 
 
 "Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain 
 Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain. 
 Awake but one, and lo ! what myriads rise ! 
 Each stamps its image as the other flies !" 
 
 E. R. H. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAG£ 
 
 The Veteran's Song 13 
 
 A Glimpse of What the War Meant 14 
 
 Songs of the Civil War — A Thrilling Incident on the Skirmish 
 
 Line at Night 18 
 
 A Soldier's Story — Devotion in Enlistment — Devotion at Mis- 
 sion Ridge 20 
 
 The Rush to Arms in 1861 26 
 
 An Incident Occurring During the Battle of Mumfordsville, Ky., 
 
 September 14, 1862 30 
 
 Fredericksburg Campaign with the Army of the Potomac, Under 
 
 Major Generals McClelland and Burnside 36 
 
 How Our Regiment Saved Our Flags 51 
 
 Arthur Dehon S3 
 
 Andrew Jackson 60 
 
 An Incident of the War 61 
 
 Battle of Backbone Mountain 63 
 
 Incidents of the Blockade, i86i-'65 70 
 
 A Confederate's Early Experience in the War -jy 
 
 The Battle of Mark's Mills 80 
 
 A Strange Coincidence of the Civil War 83 
 
 A Fight and a Rout in Virginia 87 
 
 Some Experiences in the 'Sixties 90 
 
 The Battle of Oak Hills — A Fiery Baptism 93 
 
 A Wounded Soldier and a Copperhead Snake — A Gallant Act op 
 
 A Wounded Foe 98 
 
 The Confederate Cavalry — An Episode — Stirring Bravery and 
 
 Daring 102 
 
 A Thrilling Experience of a War Telegrapher 104 
 
 An Irish Lieutenant of the Old Second Dragoons 106 
 
 A False Alarm — The March and Bivouac Versus the Battlefield 112 
 
 Captured — A Prisoner's Life 115 
 
 Officers' Blunders — Capture and Release 123 
 
 The Battles of Franklin and Nashville 125 
 
 Carrying the Good News to Grant 134 
 
 The Atlanta Campaign — Death of McPherson 138 
 
10 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Three Good Stories of the Army of Northern Virginia . . . 150 
 
 Wounded at Shiloh and Left on the Field as Dead 155 
 
 History of "Spy" Company, Raised at Fayetteville, Ark 164 
 
 Heroism of James Keelan 177 
 
 A Story of Ashland, Va 179 
 
 The Responsibility of the Soldier on Picket 183 
 
 Varied and Thrilling Experiences of a Chaplain 187 
 
 One Day in the Service 189 
 
 A Battle Scene at Helena, Ark., July 4, 1863 193 
 
 The Battle of Fredericksburg, as I Saw It 197 
 
 A Story of Prison Life 199 
 
 Recollections of a Private 202 
 
 Three Bunkmates 208 
 
 FiTZHUGH Lee as a Lieutenant Colonel in a Skirmish .... 211 
 
 "Gus" Hopkins' Battle for Water 215 
 
 A Modest Request 218 
 
 General Lee to the Rear at Spottsylvania 219 
 
 Storming of Fort Steadman, On Hare's Hill, Front of Peters- 
 burg, Va., March 25, 1865 222 
 
 From Manassas to Malvern Hill — A Series of Fights .... 226 
 A Marriage in Chicago — The Honeymoon in Andersonville — A 
 Yankee Baby Born in Andersonville — Kindness of Confed- 
 erates 230 
 
 The Fight at Decatur, July 22, 1864 236 
 
 A Touching Story of the De.\th of Nine Confederates .... 239 
 
 The Sad War Experiences of Two Iowa Brothers 241 
 
 A Fourth of July in a Southern Prison — Escape — Perilous Jour- 
 ney North 249 
 
 Two Remarkable Incidents in the Crocker Brigade 262 
 
 Another Incident in the Crocker Brigade 264 
 
 The Friends of Yesterday 266 
 
 The Enlistment — The Farewell — The Scout — The Fight . . . 274 
 
 The "Bloody Fifth" Cavalry 278 
 
 Siege of Knoxville, Tenn., and General Averill's Raid .... 287 
 
 Personal Reminiscences of Sherman's March to the Sea . . . 298 
 
 A Remarkable Coincidence in the B.a.ttle of Stone River ... 301 
 
 Fighting Guerrillas on the La Fourche, Louisiana 303 
 
 The Stray Contraband, Lost and Found 315 
 
 An Incident of Hatcher's Run 317 
 
 The First Day's Fight at Shiloh, April 6, 1862 320 
 
 The Newsboy in War Times — One Who Was Hit By a Stray 
 
 Bullet 324 
 
 The Shirt Thief 327 
 
CONTENTS 11 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Thrilling Incidents With Bushwhackers 329 
 
 Revolt of Prisoners at Salisbury, N. C 332 
 
 A Scene of Interest in Front of "Fort Hell" 334 
 
 War Reminiscences from 1862 to 1865 33^ 
 
 Piedmont, Va., June 5, 1864 343 
 
 Recollections of a Bummer 345 
 
 Personal Experiences in the Volunteer Navy During the Civil 
 
 War 356 
 
 LiBBY ^7^ 
 
 The Defense of Little Washington, N. C 384 
 
 What Impressed Me Most 3^5 
 
 The Battle of Plymouth, N. C 386 
 
 Memories of Service Afloat from 1862 to 1866 387 
 
 "Lest We Forget" 394 
 
 The Fight at Jonesboro — A Capture and Escape 398 
 
 The Joy of Victory 4oi 
 
 An Incident of the Battle of Vicksburg, May 22, 1863 403 
 
 Incident on the Rappahannock in Which Well-Known Men 
 
 Took Part 4io 
 
 The Naval Battle in Mobile Bay 412 
 
 Fifty Years Next November 4^9 
 
 A Conundrum of the Days of '64 420 
 
 Incidents of Lee's Last Struggle — The Battle of Sailor's Creek . 424 
 A Remarkable Plea to the Soldiers of the Trans-Mississippi — A 
 
 Southern Woman Glories in Rebellion 432 
 
 Saw Jefferson Davis When Arrested — No Female's Clothing . . 438 
 
 The Siege of Mobile— "The Times That Tried Men's Souls" . . 442 
 
 A Sprinter in a Raid at Cloyd's Farm, May 9, 1864 448 
 
 One of the Last Battles of the War 449 
 
 The Last Battle of the Civil War 45i 
 
 A Story of the Mexican Border 455 
 
 The Loyal Women OF the 'Sixties 4S8 
 
 Southern Newspaper Extracts at the Close of the War . . . 460 
 
 Fresh Soldiers 466 
 
 Camp Life and Pickett Duty About Culpeper and Fredericksburg, 
 
 Va., in 1863 469 
 
 An Incident of the Battle of Shiloh 47^ 
 
 The 1ST Georgia Regulars at Malvern Hill 478 
 
 The Confederate Surgeon 484 
 
 Some Experiences in the Navy 486 
 
THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 THE VETERAN'S SONG 
 By W. W. Fink, Co. F, 23D Iowa Infantry 
 
 The following was written and presented to the Editor by his old 
 friend and comrade, and is a worthy addition to the "war songs" of the 
 land. — Editor. 
 
 'Twas not for gold nor fame we fought; 
 
 'Twas not to win an alien sod; 
 Nay; but to save what blood had bought — 
 
 A home for love, a land for God. 
 Life's Autumn comes. The leaves grow sere. 
 
 Chill frosts have checked youth's ardent glow. 
 Death comes apace — we will not fear; 
 
 He was our playmate long ago; 
 And we met him oft under weird white moons, 
 'Neath the burning skies, by the dark lagoons, 
 In the shock of war, by the fever's glow — 
 But that was long, so long ago, — 
 Aye, long ago. 
 
 Yet still the blessed years sweep round, 
 
 And still we journey side by side, 
 By golden bands of mem'ry bound 
 
 In the weal or woe, whiche'er betide. 
 Our lives are torches; yet, thank God: 
 
 Each light that failed so long ago. 
 Each brave who fell on Southland sod 
 
 Lent to our flag a deathless glow. 
 So it's shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart; 
 Close the ranks. Death presses the lines apart 
 As he did when we heard his bugles blow 
 In memorized years of long ago, — 
 So long ago. 
 
A GLIMPSE OF WHAT THE WAR MEANT 
 By E. R. Hutchins 
 
 The young people in our schools and colleges should be 
 taught the magnitude of the Civil War, and a just compre- 
 hension of the following facts will give some idea of what 
 that war was and what it meant. 
 
 From the beginning to the end of the war, 2,898,304 men 
 enlisted in the Union Army, and 1,239,000 in the Confederate 
 Army. Our troops were in 578 battles, actions, and engage- 
 ments, and nearly 6000 skirmishes and reconnoissances ; 
 385,245 were killed and wounded in the Union Army and 
 329,000 in the Confederate. The cost of the war to our 
 government was more than $6,000,000,000. Let me briefly 
 give an insight into a few battles. 
 
 "At Burnside's Fredericksburg fight there were 1284 Union 
 men killed, 9600 wounded, and 1769 missing. Of the Con- 
 federates 595 were killed, 4051 wounded, and 658 missing. 
 In the second Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville battle, on 
 the Union side 1575 were killed, 9594 wounded, and 5676 
 missing. On the Confederate side 1665 were killed, 9081 
 wounded, and 2081 missing." At the former fight we were 
 badly whipped. On the closing night after this battle I took 
 a train of ambulances filled with wounded across the river on 
 our retreat. There was no shelter, and there was a cold, driz- 
 zling rain. We laid the poor sufferers on the ground, and at 
 daylight the sight was pitiable. During the evening, before 
 the retreat was ordered, I was stationed in a large church, 
 doing my duty as an assistant surgeon. Occasionally a shot 
 or piece of shell would land in the church, wounding or killing 
 some one or more who had already suffered. The lights were 
 finally ordered put out and each surgeon was compelled to 
 
 14 
 
A GLIMPSE OF WHAT THE WAR MEANT 15 
 
 stand just as he was when the darkness came upon us. A step 
 or two taken would be Hable to end on some poor sufferer. 
 The groans and moans, the pleading for water, and even the 
 begging to be killed were entering every heart, and made the 
 stoutest quail. Out on the field there were "mangled forms, 
 rent and tossed, as if maddened beasts of the arena had run 
 riot among them. Limbs flung from their bodies, and half 
 trampled in the mire. Grave faces, stark and stiff and deadly 
 pale, looking like phantom lights. They looked like something 
 neither dead nor living, with a fixedness that was more than 
 stillness. There were the open eyes that saw not, and hands 
 still grasping muskets with a clutch that no living strength 
 could loose. Horses, cannoneers, dismounted guns, crushed 
 wheels, overturned gun carriages, the tongues upright in the 
 air, and the yokes swinging like gibbets on high." As we 
 retreated that night we realized that "war is hell." 
 
 "At Fort Donelson there were 500 Union soldiers killed, 
 2108 wounded, and 224 missing, while 2010 Confederates 
 were killed and wounded, and 21,000 made prisoners. The 
 fall of Vicksburg was like a death knell to the Southern Con- 
 federacy." 
 
 "At Shiloh 1754 Union men were killed, 8408 wounded, and 
 2835 missing. On the Confederate side 1723 were killed, 8012 
 wounded, and 969 missing." 
 
 At Antietam, which history says was "the greatest one-day 
 battle of the war, 2108 were killed on the Union side, 9549 
 wounded, and 753 missing, while 2700 Confederates were 
 killed, 9024 wounded, and 2000 missing." Here "the solid 
 shot slashed the timber, and the limbs literally covered the 
 dead. The underbrush was cut as if by hail. Bloody strips 
 of clothing hung on thousands of limbs." It was in this fight 
 that the beloved McKinley won distinction. 
 
 "In the Wilderness there were 2246 Union men killed, 12,037 
 wounded, and 3383 missing." This was a marvelous battle. 
 The Wilderness skirts the southern bank of the Rapidan for 
 fifteen miles. "The surface was covered with thickly growing 
 scrub trees and dense vines. Here Lee struck Grant's army in 
 flank, and here they fought two days. For difficulty of condi- 
 tions, there is no parallel in the history of warfare. The men 
 
i6 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 could not see each other for more than a few rods. Regiments, 
 struggling through the tangled vines, came unexpectedly upon 
 regiments of the enemy, and fought desperately for possession 
 of the ground, neither knowing how much, nor how little the 
 holding, the conquest, or the loss of position signified. To 
 valor, these two armies had added discipline and long use in 
 war. Their determination was that of matchless heroes, their 
 endurance that of insatiate machines." 
 
 "At Gettysburg the loss to the Union Army was 3155 killed, 
 14,529 wounded, and 5365 missing. The Confederates lost in 
 killed 3903, 18,735 wounded, and 5425 missing. At Grave- 
 lotte in the Franco-Prussian war, the German army lost 
 20,577 from 146,000 engaged. It will be seen that Meade, 
 with half as many engaged, lost more than this." Here, un- 
 questionably, Gettysburg decided the fate of the Confederacy. 
 
 *Tn the three Atlanta fights the Union Army lost in killed 
 and wounded, 11. 517, and the Confederates 20,397." 
 
 At Spottsylvania General Gordon says there were 5000 dead 
 piled up before the Confederate works. He says : "It was a 
 drama in three acts. First Hancock's charge; second, the 
 Confederates counter-charge; and third, a night and day 
 wTestle of the giants, on the same breastworks. Here was the 
 longest roll of incessant musketry fire of the war." Swinton 
 says : "Of all the struggles of the war, this was the fiercest 
 and most deadly. The slaughter continued till the ground 
 was literally covered with the piles of the dead, and the woods 
 in front of the salient were one hideous Golgotha." Horace 
 Porter says : "Skulls were crushed with clubbed muskets, and 
 men were stabbed to death with swords and bayonets thrust 
 between the logs of the parapet which separated the combatants. 
 The dead were piled on each other, in some places, four layers. 
 Below the mass of fast-decaying corpses were convulsive 
 twitching of limbs and the writhing of bodies, showing that 
 there were wounded men still alive, struggling to extricate 
 themselves from their horrid environment." 
 
 "At Chickamauga 1657 Union soldiers were killed, 9756 
 wounded, and 5676 missing. Of the Confederates 1900 were 
 killed, 14,674 wounded, and 1468 missing." Such was war. 
 our war. Did it pay? Yes, a thousand times yes. It saved 
 
A GLIMPSE OF WHAT THE WAR MEANT 17 
 
 the nation and the flag. That flag, "Old Glory," the Union 
 soldiers carried through the darkest hour and wildest storm 
 that ever overwhelmed a nation, and they brought it back 
 without a stain. There it floats; over every land, and on 
 every sea; floats in triumph, and every country of the world 
 takes its hat off to it. 
 
 The South had as brave soldiers as the North, and the best 
 thing that ever happened to that section of our country was 
 the triumph of our flag. No better proof is needed of the 
 South's loyalty to that flag and all that it typifies than was 
 seen when, in a later conflict, the younger Grant and the 
 younger Lee marched under it in its honor; and fighting Joe 
 Wheeler and the intrepid Lawton rode side by side, alike in- 
 spired by its Stars and Stripes. 
 
 Thank God for a reunited country and peace! 
 
SONGS OF THE CIVIL WAR— A THRILLING INCI- 
 DENT ON THE SKIRMISH LINE AT NIGHT 
 
 By General Isaac R. Sherwood, Member of Congress of 
 
 Ohio 
 
 There never was a war like the War of the RebelHon, and 
 there never will be another one. There never was a war that so 
 inspired the tone and flavor and quality of its literature. There 
 never was a war where the people, the men and women at 
 home, and behind the army, were so fierce and aglow with 
 fervent and all-pervading patriotism. There never was a war 
 where so many war songs were inspired, and where so many 
 soldiers voiced in song the inspiration of the war poets. 
 
 In the war of the American Revolution we had only 
 "Yankee Doodle," the origin of which no historian has been 
 able to tell us. The words are said to have been written by 
 an English army surgeon, who served under General Amherst 
 in the old French-English War, The tune passed through 
 various stages, and at the time of the Revolutionary War was 
 shrill and well adapted to the fife and drum. In 1784 the tune 
 appeared in Samuel Arnold's English opera, "Two to One," 
 under the title of "Yankee Doodle," that was played in 
 London. 
 
 Only one war song worthy the muse of history was written 
 during the War of 181 2, — "The Star Spangled Banner," — 
 written by Francis Scott Key, a lawyer of Frederick, Md. 
 This appeared in 18 14, after the British night attack on Fort 
 McHenry, Baltimore. It was an inspiration. The song was 
 set to music by Ferdinand Durang, who first sang it in a Bal- 
 timore tavern. The music was borrowed from "Anacreon in 
 Heaven," composed by John Stafford Smith, of London, Eng- 
 
 18 
 
SONGS OF THE CIVIL WAR 19 
 
 land, in 1772. The "Star Spangled Banner" is the most popu- 
 lar patriotic anthem of the nineteenth century, and is the only 
 precious poetic relic of the War of 1812. 
 
 "Maryland, My Maryland" was the most popular war song 
 of the South. In spirit and dash it is one of the best war 
 songs ever written. The author is James R. Randall, of Mary- 
 land. The poem first appeared in the New Orleans Delta, in 
 May, 1 86 1. Young Randall was then a stripling schoolboy 
 attending Louisiana College. It was written to induce his 
 State to secede from the Union. I first heard this song one 
 starlight night along the Holstein River in East Tennessee, 
 October, 1863. It was the first night of our arrival on our 
 march over the Cumberland Mountains. As field officer of 
 the day I was ordered to place a line of pickets and locate the 
 vidette posts for our army. While riding along the river 
 road I halted my horse quietly in front of a house, when I 
 heard a sweet-voiced girl singing with great feeling to an 
 officer, who stood beside the piano, these dramatic words : 
 
 "The despot's heel is on thy shore, 
 Maryland : 
 His touch is on thy temple door, 
 Avenge the patriotic gore 
 That flecked the streets of Baltimore, 
 And be the battle queen of yore, 
 O Maryland, my Maryland." 
 
 Just then a picket guard fired his musket at some object of 
 the night about twenty yards to the right, and the song stopped 
 at a semicolon, and a guerrilla captain, as I afterward learned, 
 escaped suddenly from the house and rode out into the dark- 
 ness. I never heard the balance of the song until after the 
 final surrender at historic old Salisbury, N. C. 
 
A SOLDIER'S STORY— DEVOTION IN ENLIST- 
 MENT—DEVOTION AT MISSION RIDGE 
 
 By J. S. LoTHROP, Captain Co. E, 26th Illinois Infantry 
 
 The English language does not supply words of sufficient 
 descriptive import to convey to the mind of one who never 
 took part in a battle an intelligent understanding of it. 
 
 I will tell of the services of a private soldier of my com- 
 pany, hoping that it may prove interesting, and in a measure 
 instructive, representing, as it does, the characteristics of the 
 great body of the young men who filled the ranks of the 
 Union Army in that memorable war. 
 
 My war service commenced as a private in Co. I, nth 
 Illinois Infantry, under the first call of President Lincoln in 
 April, 1861, the term of such enlistment ending July 25th fol- 
 lowing. August 24, 1 86 1, I again enlisted in a company then 
 being organized at Ottawa, 111. The men composing it were 
 practically all of them sons of farmers, hearty-looking, robust 
 young men, inured to labor, their ages ranging from seventeen 
 to twenty-four years, the average being about twenty. The 
 company was rapidly filled to near its complement, and when 
 organized was immediately ordered into quarters at Camp 
 Butler, near Springfield, 111., where it was assigned as Com- 
 pany E to the 26th Illinois Infantry. I was elected its 2d 
 lieutenant, and was given charge by the captain of the matter 
 of making requisitions and supplying the company with the 
 necessary equipment, through which the boys came to regard 
 me, for the time being, as the most important officer in the 
 company. 
 
 A few days after reaching Camp Butler a young boy, not 
 much past the age of sixteen, named Henry Hoxey, put in 
 
 20 
 
A SOLDIER'S STORY 21 
 
 appearance at headquarters of the company. He was from 
 the farm; was a strongly built, fine-looking fellow, larger 
 grown than usual for his age, with rosy cheeks, and a bright, 
 intelligent face. Quite a number of the company were his 
 neighbors and acquaintances at home, and he had run away 
 from home to go into the army with them. He was duly 
 enlisted, and enrolled as a soldier, 
 
 A few days later a man came to my tent, where I was 
 engaged on some company work. He was evidently a farmer, 
 broad-shouldered, a little stooping, face deeply bronzed, but 
 pleasing in appearance. He looked at me a few moments, 
 and then said, "I was directed to your tent, sir, and I want to 
 talk with you." I motioned him to a seat on a camp-stool, 
 which he took, and after a short space, during which he 
 appeared to be struggling with emotion, he said, "I am the 
 father of Henry Hoxey." I became interested at once, but 
 made no reply. 
 
 He continued : "Henry is an only child ; he is the idol of 
 his mother, and she is prostrated with grief over his going 
 into the war. I have left her with friends and have come to 
 see what is best to do about it. I know that I can take him 
 away with me, but mother and I have talked it over and we feel 
 certain that if I do so. he will run away again, for his heart 
 is set on joining the army, and in such case he might get in a 
 company where all w^ere strangers to him; so mother finally 
 consented for me to come here, and if some one of the officers 
 will agree to look after Henry, not give him any special favors, 
 but to advise him, take an interest in him, and such care of 
 him as may be done, that we would let him go, seeing that 
 he has so many of his friends in your company. And," he 
 continued, with a choke in his voice, "Captain" (probably not 
 knowing my rank), "if you will let me tell mother that you 
 agree to do that for our boy. it will be a great relief to her, 
 and we will let him go." 
 
 I asked if Henry knew he was here, and he said he did not. 
 I called one of the men and directed him to find Henry Hoxey, 
 and send him to my tent. He came in a short time, and as he 
 entered the tent I left it, in order that the boy and father could 
 have their talk and cry alone. 
 
22 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 Returning after a reasonable time, I explained to Henry 
 what service in the army meant; that he could not longer 
 have his own way, to come and go as he pleased, to be petted 
 and carefully cared for, but would be compelled to come and 
 go as he was told. I explained the service in the hardest lines 
 I was capable of; what, aside from the danger of battle, 
 he would be called upon to endure, and advised him, in view 
 of his youth and the present being the time for him to obtain 
 an education, he had better return home with his father and 
 wait a year or so, when, if the war continued, he would be 
 given opportunity for army service. 
 
 He said that he wanted to stay in the army. He urged the 
 general belief that the war would not last very long and he 
 wanted to help put the rebellion down. Finally, I told Mr. 
 Hoxey that he might take to the mother my assurances that 
 I would look after the boy as far as was in my power. And 
 so the father and son separated, as it proved, for all time. 
 The regiment was hardly organized and armed when it was 
 ordered to duty in Missouri, and thence, ever in hard cam- 
 paigns, was finally attached to one of the divisions of the Fif- 
 teenth Corps, then commanded by General Sherman. Henry 
 proved a good soldier, at all times ready for duty, faithful in 
 the discharge of it, obedient to orders, respectful to officers, 
 and generous with his comrades. He was careful of his person 
 and health, and developed into a hardy, fine-appearing young 
 man. He never missed a drill, a march, nor a battle. There 
 are many incidents in his army life that would prove interest- 
 ing, such as going at one time, at great personal risk, to rescue 
 a wounded comrade who was lying helpless and exposed. 
 
 On November 25, 1863, the army was lined up for the 
 desperate and sanguinary battle of Mission Ridge. Sherman's 
 army was at the north end of the ridge, and our brigade was 
 ordered to assault at the point just west of the tunnel in the 
 ridge through which the railroad from Knoxville to Chatta- 
 nooga passes. We formed in the shelter of the woods, prob- 
 ably one-half mile from the base of the hills, which arose 
 abruptly from the level fields over which we must pass in 
 making the charge. 
 
 The hills were in full view, and through the trees we could 
 
A SOLDIER'S STORY 23 
 
 see the black-mouthed cannon looking out through the em- 
 brasures of the redoubts which inclosed them, on the project- 
 ing point over the tunnel, and at other points along the crest 
 of the ridge. We could see the well-built lines of earthworks 
 along advantageous places from the base to the top, glistening 
 with the steel of the infantry. There were men lying there, 
 awaiting our coming, and we all knew the awful work that 
 was there laid out for us to engage in. 
 
 While awaiting the order to advance, I received orders — I 
 was captain then — to detail a certain number of men for duty 
 on the skirmish line, a formation to go in advance and be a 
 fringe for the charging column. Knowing the extreme peril 
 of such service, I hesitated about arbitrarily selecting the men 
 for it; so stepping in front of the company, I made known the 
 order and called for volunteers. There was but a moment of 
 waiting, when young Hoxey stepped out to the front, halted, 
 and saluted. I returned his salute, but I felt a bump in my 
 heart and a choking lump in my throat that for the moment 
 almost upset me. In an instant my mind swept to the prairie 
 home of that sad-hearted mother, who during the days of 
 their long separation, had, morn and eve, moaned her plea to 
 her God for the preservation and safe keeping of her boy. It 
 was a brief period of emotion, however, for the grim work of 
 the hour was close at hand. My detail for the skirmish line 
 was quickly filled by volunteers, and they were as quickly 
 ordered into position. 
 
 I never saw Hoxey again alive. He went out into that 
 hell of iron and lead, on toward the smoking hills, and fell 
 with many others of his comrades, who sealed their devotion 
 to the Union by the gift of their lives. 
 
 Early the following morning the army moved in pursuit of 
 the retreating army, thence to Knoxville for the relief of 
 Burnside, thence into northern Alabama, where about January 
 I, 1864, the regiment veteranized and was given a furlough 
 for a visit home. We went as a regiment direct to Springfield, 
 111., and there separated, companies or individuals, to their 
 respective homes. My company kept together with few 
 exceptions,, until we reached Ottawa. We were the first vet- 
 eran com.pany to reach that city, and were accorded a rare 
 
24 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 ovation. The city and the nearby country had turned out 
 en masse, and we were escorted along the street, packed by a 
 living, shouting mass of people. We were taken to a large 
 church, where, after an address of welcome, an elegant ban- 
 quet was served. As Mr. Hoxey lived quite a distance from 
 the city I had not expected to see him. 
 
 The dinner over, addresses were delivered by a number of 
 notables, and then I was called on for a talk. I gave a brief 
 history of the company's war service, its campaigns, battles, 
 etc., and then gave an account of each of those we had left 
 reposing in the soil of the South. I named each of them, and 
 justly made their virtues as soldiers the burden of my remarks. 
 Friends of some were present, and choking sobs were frequent 
 interruptions. The last I told was of Henry Hoxey. I told 
 of the manner of his coming into the company; of the inter- 
 view I had with his father; of his gallant conduct as a soldier; 
 of his voluntary offer of himself as a skirmisher at the Mission 
 Ridge battle, and of his tragic death. While I was talking, I 
 noticed that the people in the audience frequently looked over, 
 and past me, to my right. Turning, I looked in that direction, 
 and there, within a few feet of me, stood the father of Henry 
 Hoxey, his form quivering with emotion and his face drawn 
 and bathed in tears. As his eyes met mine, he put out his 
 hand. I took it, and, neither of us speaking, I put my arm 
 over his bowed shoulder, and in the presence of that large 
 audience, now awed into deep and sympathetic silence, we 
 both broke down, and my talk was finished. The stillness of 
 the audience was soon broken by the sobs from all parts of 
 the house. I loosed the tension by leading Mr. Hoxey to the 
 front of the platform and introducing him as the father of 
 young Hoxey, whose story I had told them, and proposed 
 three cheers for his gallant boy. The response was hearty, 
 but it was the unusual combination of mingled cheers and 
 tears. 
 
 Tliat is all. I have not told this story with a view of repre- 
 senting young Hoxey as an exceptional soldier, nor that there 
 was anything in the incidents of his service that was strik- 
 ingly unusual. 
 
 My thought is to illustrate, through him. the soldierly 
 
A SOLDIER'S STORY 25 
 
 qualities of the young men composing the Union Army in 
 that war. Young Hoxey was simply a type of the soldier to 
 whose fidelity, courage, and devotion the American Republic 
 is indebted for its preservation and present glory.* 
 
 * Through the kindness of my friend of many years, and my comrade 
 also (Captain Lothrop), I am permitted to publish the above article. It 
 was read at a meeting of the Loyal Legion, Commandery of Des Moines, 
 two or three years ago. — Editor. 
 
THE RUSH TO ARMS IN 1861 
 By W. S. Moore^ Co. E, 2D Iowa Infantry 
 
 The majority of people of the present generation have no 
 conception of the grandeur of the spectacle presented to the 
 world in April, 1861, in the alacrity with which the patriotic 
 young men of the nation flew to arms. The knowledge of the 
 events which marked that heroic epoch in our national history 
 possessed by those who were born within the last thirty-five 
 years is necessarily limited. Time is a great condenser of 
 history, and years hence a brief paragraph may tell the story 
 of the great war between the northern and southern sections 
 of the United States. To those of us who were old enough 
 to take part in the stirring scenes of 1861 to 1865, the lapse 
 of half a century has not even made misty the memory of the 
 rush to arms and the spirit that animated the volunteer. 
 
 In 1 861 I was a resident of Fairfield, la. Stepping into a 
 law office about eight o'clock on the evening of April 12th, I 
 found seated a group of young men discussing the event of the 
 firing on Sumter, and the call of the President for 75,000 men 
 to put down the rebellion. Three of them were law students, 
 one was principal of the public school, and all were of high 
 standing in the society of the town. One regiment was the 
 contribution asked from Iowa, and these young men resolved 
 at once to have their names on the roster of that regiment. A 
 roll was then started toward the formation of a company of 
 a hundred men, and all present signed it, and in twenty-four 
 hours the roll was complete. 
 
 But these were not alone in their promptness in responding 
 to the call. At the same moment that this roll was started, a 
 
 26 
 
THE RUSH TO ARMS IN 1861 27 
 
 similar movement was inaugurated in every town and city in 
 the State, and, besides, the captain of almost every militia 
 company had already tendered the services of his command 
 to the Governor. It soon became evident, therefore, that the 
 Fairfield company would not be a factor in the makeup of the 
 75,000 volunteers for three months. Closely following this 
 call, however, came one for volunteers for three years, or 
 during the war. This staggered some of the men for a time. 
 Three years seemed a long time. Some of them had wives and 
 children to leave behind; others had just married, and felt 
 that they ought not to go; and many of the young men would 
 be compelled to tear themselves away from their sweethearts. 
 But they were not easily swerved from their purpose. An 
 occasional man may have dropped his name from the roll, but 
 memory recalls not one. At all events, in an incredibly short 
 space of time one hundred men were enrolled for three years, 
 officers were elected, and they were ready for departure to the 
 field of conflict. After a few days of training in the manual 
 of arms they were off for Keokuk, to become distinguished as 
 a part of the subsequently illustrious 2d Iowa Infantry. 
 
 The scene at the railway station the morning the company 
 departed for rendezvous at the Gate City had its exact counter- 
 part at many stations all over the country, and will not be for- 
 gotten while a witness to it survives. But though vividly and 
 ineffaceably photographed upon my mind, an attempt at accu- 
 rate description would fail. It was a great emotional drama, 
 in which the entire population, covering acres of ground, were 
 actors. The spectacle of one hundred newly fledged soldiers 
 of various ages, from eighteen to forty-two years, accustomed 
 to the pleasures of home and devoted to the society of family 
 and friends, taking their lives in their hands, leaving behind 
 them all that was dear and sacred, and departing for the tented 
 field, was awe-inspiring and incomprehensible. Stout-hearted 
 men, gentle maidens, lovely women, and tender children were 
 there, and all were in tears. The weeping was infectious, if not 
 contagious; but the tears were not tears of sorrow — they were 
 the spontaneous outburst of patriotic emotion, sympathy, and 
 admiration for the heroic spirit of the departing volunteers. 
 
 The fortunes of war dealt kindly with a goodly number of 
 
28 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 these brave men, harshly with some, and cruelly with others. 
 Some were killed in battle, several died of wounds, and many 
 died of diseases incident to camp life, a mere fragment of them 
 returning to their homes at the close of the war. Of the group 
 of young men referred to as forming the nucleus of the com- 
 pany, the first man to put his name on the roll, Lieutenant 
 George Strong, died at St. Joseph, Mo., in less than two 
 months after being mustered in, his death being the second to 
 occur in the regiment and the first in the company. He was an 
 exceptionally promising young man. 
 
 The 2d Iowa Infantry embraced in its membership all classes 
 and conditions of men in the everyday walks of life, and in 
 this regard was similar to any other regiment of volunteers; 
 yet it is perhaps safe to assume that the men in its ranks were 
 more thoroughly representative of the impulsive patriotism 
 developed on the first call to arms than those contributing to 
 the makeup of regiments subsequently enlisted. It was the 
 first regiment that left the State, and was composed prin- 
 cipally of young men, the average age being but twenty-two 
 years. The spirit with which they were imbued and the senti- 
 ment that received unanimous endorsement by the rank and 
 file, was tersely expressed by General John A. Dix as follows : 
 "If any man attempts to haul down the American flag, shoot 
 him on the spot." 
 
 There was no scramble for ofiice and in the company to 
 which I belonged the offices sought the men who received com- 
 missions as the first officers. The oldest man in the company 
 was elected captain, and the first lieutenant enjoyed the dis- 
 tinction of having been the first man to enroll his name. Presi- 
 dent Lincoln was credited with the statement that there were 
 men in the ranks of every regiment fit to be President of the 
 United States, and recent history records the fact that a 2d 
 Iowa man was twice nominated for President, and made the 
 country vocal with his fiery eloquence — General Weaver. 
 
 The only man in the regiment specially known to fame 
 at the time of its organization was its colonel — Samuel R. 
 Curtis, who resigned a seat in Congress to accept the colonelcy 
 of the regiment. He was eminent as a civil engineer, an 
 advocate at the bar, and an orator and statesman. Indeed, he 
 
THE RUSH TO ARMS IN 1861 29 
 
 was too valuable a man to remain long as colonel of a regi- 
 ment; he rose early to the rank of major general, and became 
 one of the most illustrious men in the war. 
 
 This article recalls to my mind most vividly my own experience at the 
 breaking out of the war, and the great upheaval of patriotism which 
 pervaded every locality in the Union-loving North. I was a young student 
 in the Harvard Medical School. I frequently stood by the hour, in front 
 of the old State House in Boston, and listened to the burning words of 
 eloquence as they fell from the lips of Wendell Phillips, John A. Andrew, 
 Edward Everett, and others of historic fame. With other young men, 
 rather boys, I heard the call of duty, and enlisted for my country's defense 
 for three years. Those days of drill in old Faneuil Hall, the mothers and 
 fathers who came to give us their farewell blessings, and then the final 
 partings, and away to the front ! Ah, those days of heroic devotion ! It 
 was as glorious in the hearts of those who stayed at home as in those who 
 went out of the gate, down the lane, into the hell of battle — Editor. 
 
AN INCIDENT OCCURRING DURING THE BATTLE 
 
 OF MUMFORDSVILLE, KY., SEPTEMBER 
 
 14, 1862 
 
 By E. T. Sykes, Captain Co. K, ioth Mississippi In- 
 fantry, Chalmers' Brigade, Polk's Corps, Army 
 OF Tennessee, C. S. A. 
 
 The particulars and origin of the battle of Mumfordsville, 
 Ky., September 14, 1862, as known to me as a participant 
 therein, and in the campaign (Kentucky) prior and subsequent 
 thereto, were as follows : 
 
 General Bragg, on reaching Glasgow, Ky., with his main 
 force, sent forward the same night, September 12th, Chalmers' 
 Brigade of Mississippians to the railroad at Cave City, and 
 Duncan's Louisianian Brigade to the junction (Glasgow) next 
 south, with orders to intercept and cut off Buell's (the latter 
 was then marching up from Nashville) communications north- 
 ward by railroad to Louisville. General Chalmers surprised 
 and captured the telegraph operator and depot supplies at 
 Cave City, but owing to the information furnished the enemy 
 by Union citizens of the neighborhood, we did not succeed in 
 capturing any trains. 
 
 While at Cave City, General Chalmers, hearing from Col- 
 onel Scott, commanding a brigade of cavalry and operating 
 near Mumfordsville, that the enemy, about 3000 strong, and 
 supposed to be composed of new recruits, was near Mumfords- 
 ville, to wit, at the railroad crossing on Green River, fortified 
 and protected the iron railroad bridge, and, offering to co- 
 operate if he (Chalmers) would move to that point prepared 
 for action, induced the latter to move on the night of the 13th 
 from Cave City — and this without orders from or informa- 
 
 30 
 
BATTLE OF MUMFORDSVILLE, KY. 31 
 
 tion furnished his commanding officer — in the hope of win- 
 ning a major general's star. Marching rapidly during the 
 night of the 13th, he reached the vicinity of the fortified posi- 
 tion of the enemy about sunrise on the morning of the 14th. 
 The enemy's pickets were rapidly driven in, — but not without 
 the loss by serious wound of Major W. C. Richards, com- 
 manding the sharpshooters of the brigade, — and forming line 
 of battle, with Walthall's regiment (29th Mississippi) on his 
 right, and Smith's (loth Mississippi) regiment on his left, 
 the three other regiments and battery of artillery intermediate 
 advanced to the attack on the fortified position of the enemy. 
 This advance was through an opening in front of the lOth 
 Mississippi for fully a half mile, and under fire of the enemy's 
 artillery and small arms from behind what proved formidable 
 intrenchments and earthworks. 
 
 Before the advance was ordered Colonel Smith called his 
 captains to the front and center, and after pointing through 
 the haze of the early morn to the enemy's fortifications, on the 
 top of which bayonets bristled in the rays of the morning sun, 
 and also pointing to a fence skirting an abattis of fallen timber, 
 he said that the order to advance would be, "By the right of 
 companies to the front, quick time." Continuing, he enjoined 
 upon the captains the necessity of preserving the intervals be- 
 tween the several formations, so that on reaching the fence, 
 which the heads of companies should throw down, and passing 
 through, the order would be given, "Companies into line," 
 forming the regimental front. Then after the command, 
 "Captains to your posts," came the order, "By the right of 
 companies to the front, forward, quick time, march!" For a 
 while the advance and attack gave promise of success. 
 
 Walthall had reached the wide and deep ditch around Fort 
 Craig — a strong fortification on the enemy's extreme left — 
 and was preparing to cross it, when Colonel Scott, who had 
 agreed with Chalmers to co-operate in the attack, took position 
 and imprudently opened fire from an eminence several hun- 
 dred yards distant, throwing shell among Walthall's men, and 
 causing them to retire. The loth Mississippi had reached the 
 ravine, wherein was an abattis of beech trees that had been 
 felled about seventy-five yards in front of the enemy's right, 
 
32 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 covering the bridge and preventing the further advance of the 
 Confederates. Protecting themselves as best they could, the 
 Confederates were soon able to silence the enemy's fire from 
 their fortifications. In this position both sides remained, 
 doing virtually nothing save firing an occasional shot, nearly 
 two hours, the men of the loth Mississippi not being able, on 
 account of the timber to their right and the conformation of 
 the ground, to see or hear from their center or right. 
 
 About that time the enemy exhibited in an embrasure of his 
 fortifications in my immediate front a flag of truce, which was 
 thoughtlessly fired on by one Jim Franks, a private in the 
 company on my left. Taking in the situation, I assured the 
 bearer of the flag that it would be respected, at which the 
 young Indiana captain — I think that was his state — advanced, 
 and as the colonel (Smith) was lying helpless with a wound, 
 the lieutenant colonel (Bullard) lying lifeless near by, and 
 the major (Barr) w^as temporarily acting on General Chal- 
 mer's staff, it devolved upon me, as the senior officer present, 
 to meet the flag, which was done about midway the opposing 
 lines. The officer, a well-dressed, handsome, and intelligent 
 captain about my own age (I had not changed clothes since 
 crossing the Tennessee River at Harrison's Landing, nine 
 miles above Chattanooga, and presented quite a contrast), in- 
 formed me that General Chalmers had sent a flag in on our 
 right demanding an immediate surrender of the Federal 
 forces ; that the demand had been rejected, but that an armis- 
 tice for the purpose of removing the dead and wounded from 
 the field had been agreed upon and that ten minutes' notice 
 would be given before the flag would be withdrawn. I re- 
 turned to my regiment, and on communicating these facts to 
 the officers and men, they began at once to remove the dead 
 and wounded to the crest of the ridge whence we that morning 
 began the advance. This work of mercy was kept up until 
 not only the dead and wounded were removed, but likewise 
 everything of value. In the meantime I had returned to the 
 flag of truce, and during the truce the young captain, now my 
 friend, was supplied with a canteen of the "liquid fluid" which 
 "cheers" and ofttimes "inebriates," and which was much en- 
 joyed by us. At his suggestion, cards were called into requi- 
 
BATTLE OF MUMFORDSVILLE, KY. 33 
 
 sition and exchanged between us with deep feeling and sin- 
 cere expressions of mutual regard, and with the promise of 
 needed protection should fate make one a captive of the 
 other's army. 
 
 After more than an hour's interval, notice was brought to 
 us that within ten minutes' time the flag would be withdrawn. 
 Thereupon, with genuine courtesy and thoughtful considera- 
 tion for his necessitous and new-made Confederate friend, he 
 asked me which I preferred, "Whisky or brandy?" As 
 laconically, yet positively as possible, I replied in the language 
 of the Irishman, "Either is good enough foi- me." Thereupon 
 he wrote a note and sent it by one of his guard to his quarter- 
 master in the fortifications, and soon a flask of brandy was 
 presented me, with the jocular but considerate remark, "That 
 you may know it is all right. I take a bumper of it to your 
 health." After this we separated with mutual best wishes for 
 each other. 
 
 T will explain in this connection that, on rejoining my com- 
 mand I found that the dead of the regiment were being hastily 
 buried, and that orders were for the command to return to 
 Cave City. Observing my colonel (R. A. Smith) lying near 
 by and suffering excruciating pain from a wound received that 
 morning in front of the enemy's fortifications, though I 
 knew him to be a total abstainer, I insisted on his taking a 
 drink of the brandy. Finding it was of so much benefit to 
 him, I left the flask with those who were to remain with him. 
 On our return to the place with Bragg's army two days ( i6th) 
 after, the colonel was a corpse. 
 
 Just here I will add that often, since the war, when oppor- 
 tunity presented itself, I have made inquir}^ to learn the resi- 
 dence of the then young captain, but as often without success. 
 I wished the information that we might correspond and revive 
 memories of the incident. And should he be still in life, and 
 this article come to his attention, I will thank him to write 
 me. I imagine it would serve as a reminder to both of the 
 coming resurrection morn. 
 
 It is not out of place to state, and to use a common expres- 
 sion, I was "taken aback," on learning of the preparation 
 for the hasty retreat, for, during the truce. Watt L. Strick- 
 
34 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 land, aid-de-camp on the staff of General Chalmers, came up, 
 and calling me to one side, confided the information that Gen- 
 eral J. K. Jackson was advancing, and was then near by with 
 his division of infantry, and that on his arrival the attack 
 would be renewed and pressed to a successful end. It appears 
 that this — as it proved — misinformation had been indirectly 
 communicated to General Wilder at the time of the demand 
 made for his surrender; and if true, it was an unpardonable 
 military ruse on the part of Chalmers to extricate his brigade 
 from the perilous situation in which he had placed it. The 
 fact is, the truth had dawned upon General Chalmers that he 
 had been misinformed by Colonel Scott as to the number and 
 character of the troops he had so unadvisedly and without 
 orders from his superiors moved on with the hope of cap- 
 turing. Instead of raw recruits, the foe were veteran troops, 
 composed of the 17th, 60th, 67th, 68th, and 69th Infantry, a 
 company of Louisville Cavalry, a part of the 4th Ohio and a 
 section of the 13th Indiana Battery, numbering about 4500 
 officers and men, also ten guns, all commanded by Colonel 
 Wilder. Hence, when the latter refused to surrender, Chal- 
 mers resorted to the unjustifiable ruse aforesaid. Two days 
 later (i6th) General Bragg moved up with his army, and 
 surrounding the forces, then reinforced by Colonel C. L. 
 Dunham's regiment, who as senior officer assumed command, 
 demanded their surrender, which, shortly before day of the 
 I7t1i, was acceded to. Then it was that, in return for, and 
 recognition of, the gallant fight made by the loth Mississippi 
 on the 14th previous, it was sent in to receive the surrender, 
 my company (K) being placed in command of Fort Craig. 
 The supplies, both commissary and quartermaster, were in 
 abundance. 
 
 As the Federal forces were being marched out of Fort 
 Craig, I saw the captain who had treated me so generously 
 and courteously on the 14th, and there was a mutual recogni- 
 tion. Under the terms of the surrender it was recognized that 
 my interposition in his behalf was unnecessary, for, after 
 being paroled under the directions of General Buckner, then 
 just released by exchange from his imprisonment as a Fort 
 Donelson captive, the Federals were marched back under 
 
BATTLE OF MUMFORDSVILLE, KY. 35 
 
 escort to Buell, about fifteen miles on our left flank, and de- 
 livered to him. 
 
 In the engagement of the 14th the loth Mississippi lost 
 heavily. My company had six killed and twenty-five wounded, 
 a half dozen of the latter dying soon after from their wounds. 
 
 And here let me add that the account given of the battle of 
 September 14th, in the American Cyclopaedia, Vol. XVI, 
 page 797, and page 146 of the American Annual Encyclo- 
 pedia of 1862, is but a meager and misleading version. In 
 verification of this, one has only to read the two citations to 
 see that Brigadier General Duncan is named as the commander 
 of the Confederate attacking forces, whereas Brigadier Gen- 
 eral James R. Chalmers, commanding his brigade of Missis- 
 sippians, was the only attacking force. At that time General 
 Duncan, with his brigade, was at Glasgow Junction, more 
 than twenty miles distant. I have been credibly informed that 
 Colonel Dunham was more of a politician than military man. 
 Had he been otherwise, I can not see why he should have been 
 captured. Had Colonel Wilder remained in command of the 
 Federal forces I do not believe such a result would have fol- 
 lowed. He would doubtless have withdrawn his troops on the 
 approach of Bragg's army, at least before his position was 
 surrounded and a surrender became inevitable. 
 
FREDERICKSBURG CAMPAIGN WITH THE ARMY 
 OF THE POTOMAC, UNDER MAJOR GEN- 
 ERALS McCLELLAN AND BURNSIDE. 
 
 By B, F. Taylor, 2D Maryland Infantry 
 
 Comrade Taylor very kindly turned over the following diary for my 
 use in this volume, and I am sure the readers will appreciate this courtesy 
 as I do. — Editor. 
 
 October 28. Struck camp and entered upon a new cam- 
 paign. Marched down the valley and debouched upon the 
 Potomac, then south, along it, to Berlin (now Brunswick), 
 and crossed on pontoon bridge to Loudon county, Virginia, 
 and ascending the steep banks, camped upon a plateau spread 
 out in fertile fields. 
 
 October 29. Another regiment added to the brigade — nth 
 New Hampshire, Colonel Walter Harriman.* Our route this 
 day lay through Lovettsville to Wheatland, where tents were 
 pitched and the usual two months' pay-rolls commenced ; these 
 were furnished on the 30th. 
 
 October 31. Muster made occasion for a brigade drill, the 
 first since leaving Newport News in July, if our display under 
 hot fire before the regulars at Bull Run, mentioned by Porte 
 Crayon in Harper's Magazine, be passed over. 
 
 November 2. Ofi for Snickers Gap. From now on until 
 reaching Fauquier White Sulphur Springs, our movements 
 became dependent on the cavalry, sometimes in close prox- 
 imity to them, at others farther off, but always within call for 
 an emergency. "Cavalry fighting ahead," "Artillery in ac- 
 tion," was the refrain each day. Reported our cavalry drove 
 
 *The Editor was assistant surgeon in this regiment, when it left New 
 Hampshire. 
 
 36 
 
FREDERICKSBURG CAMPAIGN, ETC. 37 
 
 enemy through Snickers Gap, but it don't seem we are to 
 follow. Here the infirmity of one of our men first became 
 general property, though previously known to many. This 
 man, a jovial, witty fellow, the life of the camp, would tremble 
 and turn pale at the sound of artillery in the distance, and yet 
 go into the thick of the battle when on, and although he re- 
 enlisted and went through the war with fair credit, marked 
 as a veteran, he was known as a constitutional coward, a de- 
 fect that gained him the sympathy of his comrades and ban- 
 ished their scorn. Poor John! With him it was a struggle 
 to do his duty, while with so many others it was but an inci- 
 dent of their soldier life. Camped near Snickersville. 
 
 November 3. Through Bloomfield. Heavy skirmishing 
 ahead which receded as we pushed along. 
 
 November 4. Plaited after nightfall at Upperville, a pic- 
 turesque mountain town. House pointed out as scene of one 
 of the guerrilla Mosby's exploits and hairbreadth escapes from 
 capture and death. Cavalry camp among us. The cavalry 
 flitted in the night, leaving us to follow by daylight. 
 
 November 5. Camp at Piedmont. McClellan and Burn- 
 side rode side by side through our 9th Corps camps ; lined up 
 on sides of the road, which soon resounded with shouts and 
 cheers for our former corps commander, a demonstration the 
 Peninsular Army of the Potomac would have reversed. Burn- 
 side, handsome, stately, outlooked his chief on horseback as 
 on foot. Both unfortunate! 
 
 November 6. Passed through Little Orleans. Trying to 
 keep up with the cavalry ; the pace is fast. Took wrong road 
 and did not bivouac until 10 P. M. The first snow fell this 
 afternoon. The cause of our unnecessary and fatiguing march 
 attributed to General Ferrero, of Second Brigade, who led the 
 column to Waterloo, where we could not cross as ordered, the 
 bridge having been destroyed, and we had to retrace our steps 
 to the road to Gaskin's Mills, which we should have taken. 
 Everyone felt ugly until Division Quartermaster Captain 
 "Jack" Rapelje's doggerel obtained circulation, and restored 
 good humor: 
 
38 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 "Of all the marches that ever were made, 
 Since the days of old king Pharoah, 
 None ever equaled that of the 2d Brigade, 
 Under lead of General Ferrero. 
 
 "We left Orleans on strong legs, 
 With spirits gay as boys in blue. 
 Till end of day with worn-out pegs. 
 We met our fate at Waterloo." 
 
 November 7. Snowed all day. 
 
 November 8. Crossed Rappahannock River at Gaskin's 
 Mills. Burnside takes command of army, relieving McClellan, 
 in General Order No, i, dated Warrenton, Va., November 9, 
 1862. Extract : "Having been a sharer of the privations and 
 a witness of the bravery of the old Army of the Potomac in 
 the Maryland campaign, and fully identified in their feeling 
 of respect and esteem for General McClellan, entertained 
 through a long and most friendly association with him, I feel 
 that it is not as a stranger I assume command. To the Ninth 
 Corps, so long and intimately associated with me, I need say 
 nothing, our histories are identical." 
 
 Through Amissville. Immediately in support of Pleas- 
 anton's cavalry. Had we known General Lee's instructions 
 to Stuart, which the war records now disclose, the cavalry 
 might have found us poor reliance. Lee to Stuart: "I wish 
 you to interdict, as far as possible, all communication with 
 Amissville, as the smallpox is said to be in that region." How- 
 ever, we did not know of the existence of the dread disease 
 there, nor did any of our people contract it during our short 
 stay. 
 
 At sundown detailed in charge of advance picket on the 
 Baltimore Pike, so called for a village of that name to which 
 it led. It was not a dark night, but the moon at times was 
 obscured by floating clouds. Toward midnight, all being quiet, 
 I retired to the reserve for a much needed rest, and had just 
 comfortably fixed for it, when all were aroused by sounds 
 which seemed like a charge of horse coming down the pike. 
 The reserve was instantly under arms and on the alert, and 
 
FREDERICKSBURG CAMPAIGN, ETC. 39 
 
 hastened to the front only to find a dozen or more "blacks" of 
 all sizes and ages ; men, women, and children, brought up 
 standing by the videttes. The fugitives had passed or avoided 
 the rebel outposts in quiet and safety, but afterward, as they 
 left the enemy's and approached our lines, became stampeded 
 by their fears and took to rapid flight. But for the intelli- 
 gence and nerve of our men they would have run into real 
 danger and probable death, as they came rushing on without 
 respecting the challenge. The extreme quiet of the night and 
 state of the atmosphere conveyed and magnified the sound of 
 their fleeing feet falling on the hard macadam road so that 
 they counterfeited horses. I found a scared but happy band 
 of "darkies," and detaining them at the outpost until day- 
 light, turned them loose to face their fate as freemen. 
 
 November 10. About daylight the enemy got range and 
 shelled our camp, breaking up all preparations for breakfast. 
 As there was little to prepare, however, we were not much put 
 out in this respect. The change of base from Berlin, Md., to 
 Alexandria, Va., and failure to connect with the army from 
 last named and new base, left us short of rations. One good 
 hearty meal would have consumed all we had, but the sur- 
 prise and scurvy trick of Stuart's artillery caused the quickest 
 "pack up" and move the regiment ever made. It was one 
 time phlegmatic Quartermaster Sergeant Harry Scheibler 
 "got a move on him," and promptly started train for the road. 
 Pleasanton says, "The enemy from Culpeper attacked me in 
 force with a brigade of infantry, one of cavalry and artillery, 
 and at Corbin's Cross Roads drove in my pickets and com- 
 pelled me to concentrate my whole force to resist him. Sev- 
 eral prisoners say it was Longstreet making a reconnoissance 
 to find position of our army. If so, he did not succeed, being 
 repulsed later in the afternoon with severe loss. Our losses 
 were two men severely and two mortally wounded. General 
 Sturgis, who was at Amissville, quickly sent several regiments 
 of the division to the right of the enemy in a flanking move- 
 ment. This doubtless had great efifect in inducing the enemy 
 to withdraw." General R. E. Lee's report. Vol. XIX, Part II, 
 page 707: "Finding that the enemy had apparently halted 
 in his advance, I directed General Stuart to move with his 
 
40 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 cavalry, penetrate the line of pickets and endeavor to ascer- 
 tain his disposition. Accordingly this morning, with Lee's 
 brigade and two regiments of infantry, he drove them back 
 to Amissville, causing them to withdraw from Washington 
 (Little Washington, Va.) and to recall a party that was ap- 
 parently proceeding down the river below Rappahannock Sta- 
 tion. Upon reaching Amissville, the enemy advanced against 
 him with three brigades of infantry, which caused him to 
 retire. This was done in good order, and his loss during the 
 day was four wounded. A few of the enemy were killed and 
 more wounded." 
 
 Military reports, even when given by the highest authority, 
 are always to be taken with a grain of salt. We only had 
 two brigades over the river, and it is always safe to say "more 
 wounded than killed." Moving out of camp as soon as pos- 
 sible to get out of range of shell, took the advance road leading 
 toward Culpeper Court House and the enemy, after going 
 some distance, formed line of battle to the left of the road in 
 a thin curtain of woods, which was inclosed on all sides by a 
 worm fence, with cleared fields in front and rear. The field 
 in front sloped to a small stream, from which it rose again 
 to a knob or higher ground beyond, on which was posted the 
 battery that had caused annoyance at our morning meal. 
 Simultaneously with our arrival the bugles of two opposing 
 squadrons of horse rang out unexpectedly upon our astonished 
 ears. Until then we were not aware of the close proximity 
 of the mounted warriors. Never was more inspiring music. 
 The bugles vibrated their spirited cadences upon the crisp air 
 of early morn, creating martial sounds that made soldier 
 hearts swell with lofty courage, and urged the brave to daring 
 deeds. Everyone was instantly on the qui vivc to witness the 
 rare sight of an actual cavalry charge, with saber accompani- 
 ment. A consummated charge of two opposing bodies of cav- 
 alry is universally recognized as the most terrible and inspiring 
 spectacle of beastly war, and here before our very eyes, if all 
 signs failed not, it was to be enacted. Our "big gun" foes 
 upon the hill were forgotten and they, emulating our curiosity, 
 seemed to have forgotten us. Our men climbed trees, fences, 
 occupied stumps, secured any point of vantage that promised 
 
FREDERICKSBURG CAMPAIGN, ETC. 41 
 
 a good view, and all waited, critically expectant, the coming 
 onslaught. The two squadrons were now in full sight oppo- 
 site to each other, each at highest point of their respective 
 slopes, not over six hundred yards apart — the "Blue and the 
 Gray," or, to be more accurate, the dingy "butternut" and 
 dusty, faded blue. As the bugles poured forth their inspiring 
 music, sabers were drawn and flashed in the now rising sun. 
 Here, at last, was "glorious war" that the other fellow was 
 to engage in. The "Forward" sounded, and the columns 
 moved toward each other in most gallant style. Then the 
 "Charge," slowly at first, more rapidly, and then with head- 
 long speed until they neared the little ditch where ran a 
 "trickle" in the vale, that alone separated them. When, save 
 us! we, all in a tremor to hear the crash, to see brave riders 
 and their proud steeds go down in the shock of battle, and our 
 own horse ride forth triumphant, conquering heroes, got a 
 pall on our radiant hopes, a wet blanket on our patriotic en- 
 thusiasm. At the moment the impact should have come, when 
 the tempest of war should have burst forth upon our sight, 
 the fierce charging warriors suddenly wheeled, as if by con- 
 certed action, toward their respective slopes in solemn, stately, 
 ignominious grandeur. Bah! It was a relief to voice con- 
 tempt, and our "dough boys" gave it with a will. The Con- 
 federate battery pieces had, in the meantime, limbered up un- 
 perceived, moved off, and were out of sight. We also soon 
 moved away to another point to the left, where another attack 
 was threatened, but remained long enough for Co. B to catch 
 its breakfast by the tail. 
 
 In the field in rear of woods and regiment several yearling 
 calves were quietly pasturing, heedless of war's loud alarms, 
 unconscious of the demands of soldier hunger, and it only 
 needed a suggestion that veal was good to create a volunteer 
 forag-ing party; and as the suggestion came, Capp, Christner, 
 Christopher, Rafferty and Sweeney moved cautiously on "the 
 game," notwithstanding it took fright and flight. Justly so, 
 for the "gang" moving on them was not calculated to inspire 
 confidence in man or beast, and much larger and less timid 
 animals than calves would have shown discretion in making 
 themselves scarce with that crew on their trail. As the flying 
 
42 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 drove passed the edge of the woods where a lieutenant was 
 advantageously posted, screened by a clump of underbrush to 
 preserve his dignity as company commander, and at the same 
 time to encourage the raid for commissary supplies, he sprang 
 out, seized the tail of one of the now thoroughly terrified 
 herd, and though holding fast, was speedily and ignominiously 
 thrown to the ground, whirled on his back, and dragged at 
 race speed over the grassy field. The youngster held on, how- 
 ever, and was soon relieved of his lively prisoner, though none 
 too soon. Sergeant Sweeney declared, for at the rate and 
 direction the calf was going the lieutenant's head stood a fair 
 chance of violent contact with one of the many stumps which 
 thickly dotted the field, and of being reported as the only 
 casualty of the morning's battle. 
 
 The officer said afterward he was loath to hold on; guying 
 would come, he knew, hold on or let go, so for that he had 
 little heed, but the action of the new colonel, should he see 
 the performance, — and his measure had not yet been taken, — 
 were safest untested; anxiety for fresh meat, however, 
 barred the "let go," and Co. B feasted. For the balance of the 
 day the cavalry and artillery seemed to be sporting with each 
 other, playing a game of tag, while we poor infantry supports 
 acted as wet nurses and had our legs nearly run off in en- 
 deavor to see that our charge received no hurt. It was double- 
 quick here, and double-quick there, from early morning until 
 late afternoon, as the horsemen would change position, re- 
 ceiving or making feigned attacks. Double-quick upon the 
 parade ground is not the most pleasant recreation, but when 
 it is performed by soldiers fully equipped in marching order, 
 over rough, rolling ground in face of an enemy, it becomes 
 labor of the most fatiguing kind, and we would have much 
 rather gone to the foe single-handed, given or received a drub- 
 bing, than perform as we did, guarding Pleasanton's men. 
 
 An amusing incident happened as we were passing Tidball's 
 battery, 2d Artillery, in action. They were in full-dress uni- 
 form, and the lieutenant was remarking their neat and sol- 
 dierly appearance and the grace and ease with which they 
 handled their guns, when, at an interval in the firing, with a 
 wild yell, half a dozen of the cannoneers broke into a run 
 
FREDERICKSBURG CAMPAIGN, ETC. 43 
 
 down the slope toward us. They had recognized Sergeant 
 Sweeney, a member of their battery before the war. One 
 bright young fellow with rosy cheeks ardently saluted his 
 brother Irishman with a kiss. Did you ever see two Irishmen 
 kiss ? We had not. It was a revelation, and nearly took our 
 breath, and hours passed before we thought to laugh. Swee- 
 ney's comrades of former years urged him with all their blar- 
 ney to take advantage of the privilege granted volunteers and 
 join their battery, but in vain. After repeated efforts to gain 
 him for his former love, they good-naturedly gave it up and 
 returned to their guns. It was evident they knew and appre- 
 ciated his good qualities. 
 
 November 12. Back to Gaskin's Mills, from there over the 
 river to Sulphur Springs. Rations now so short from mis- 
 calculations in change of base that roll call was ordered each 
 hour to keep the men from wandering to procure food on 
 their own hook, which, as we were in the immediate face of 
 Longstreet's command, might have been attended with dis- 
 aster. Speaking for Co. B, although our calf had made one 
 good meal and nobly feasted us that far, we were without 
 any other food and very hungry. Some kale was found in 
 the garden of the burned hotel of the past summer, near where 
 we halted, and, cooked in clean water, satisfied for a time 
 those who could eat it, but many could not and refused it. 
 Strict orders were issued to the troops against foraging, and 
 Pope's Order No. 5, to subsist upon the country in which 
 operations were carried on, was again explained in Order No. 
 19 to mean such subsistence was to come through the com- 
 missaries, who alone were empowered to do the gathering in. 
 Thus the original order became a huge joke. All orders and 
 precautions to the contrary, the men could not be restrained; 
 hunger drove them out of camp seeking food. General Mar- 
 sena Patrick, provost marshal of the army, had his hands full. 
 Who does not remember "Old Marsena"? Surely all the 
 bummers do. Men found foraging were arrested, punished, 
 and their officers called to account. Still the foraging went 
 on, and although several of our men were caught, they escaped 
 punishment through the wit of Corporal Al. Capp, a boy who 
 went through the war without a day's sickness, never missed 
 
44 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 & fi^ht of any character or scope, and was without a wound 
 until the morning of the 2d of April, 1865, when he lost a leg 
 in a charge upon the enemy's intrenched picket. The corporal 
 and some comrades who could stand the pangs of hunger no 
 longer left camp, caught, slaughtered and divided a sheep, 
 and, captured red-handed just before reaching camp and 
 safety, were taken before General Patrick, who sternly de- 
 manded, "What have you there?" and received the astonish- 
 ing reply from the laughing Capp, "Pope's Order No. 5, sir." 
 His cheery voice and quick repartee saved the outfit, reaching 
 the General's humorous side. They were released at once, but 
 could not return to their mutton, nor was it returned to them. 
 About this time Colonel Sumner Caruth, 56th Massachusetts, 
 and some others, crossed the river and were captured in sight 
 of the camp at a big square house on a hill. 
 
 November 14. Provisions arrived, anxiety relieved, and 
 hunger appeased. It seems incredible that for the best part 
 of three days the army, so near plenty, almost in sight of 
 Washington, should have been practically without food. 
 
 Here was demonstrated to us for the first time (we had it 
 after), an object lesson in forcible, convincing terms, the 
 military axiom, "An army moves upon its stomach." 
 
 November 15. Enemy appeared in some force at Jeffer- 
 son, and as we moved down the river in the early morning 
 they ran their batteries out on the opposite heights and heavily 
 shelled our passing columns. At the bend in the road below 
 the Springs, our flank presented a fair target and they placed 
 their shells thick and fast among us, utterly demoralizing the 
 train, which moved on a parallel line. One shell burst over 
 an ammunition wagon, setting fire to the canvas cover, and 
 the frightened negro driver, thinking no doubt that his cargo 
 had exploded, put whip to the mules and started them on the 
 run, thus increasing by draught the blaze and his own danger, 
 and preventing anyone so disposed from extinguishing the 
 flames. In the midst of the confusion and excitement caused 
 by the hurrying trains and columns and bursting shells. Cor- 
 poral Capp set all in a roar of laughter by apt application of a 
 military phrase. 
 
 With the wagons and artillery the ambulances were also 
 
FREDERICKSBURG CAMPAIGN, ETC. 45 
 
 passing, and it happened that the special ambulance attended 
 by Private William F. Jones, detailed from Co. G, was near 
 this ammunition wagon. Jones was noted as a good personal 
 provider, a good feeder, and his tendencies that way had 
 caused him to seek service in the ambulance corps. On this 
 occasion, owing to an issue of rations the previous night, his 
 haversack was abundantly loaded, filled to overflowing with 
 hardtack, and their white edges could be plainly seen, as, 
 neatly crowded in and placed, they held the corner of his "war 
 bag" up. This excellent and bountiful storage caused the 
 haversack to stand, or rather set, well out from his body, only 
 touching it at a single point upon the hip. Almost simul- 
 taneously with the shell that fired the wagon cover, came 
 another that exploded overhead, sent its fuse cap in Jones' 
 direction, and as he ran in terror, his suspended haversack 
 was thrown further from his body, the fuse cap striking and 
 cutting the strap, causing the bag to fall. Jones looked back 
 with a complication of feelings, prominent among which was 
 a desire to recover his treasures showing in his whitened face, 
 but fear overcame this, and he continued his flight. It was a 
 comical sight. Many, looking in that direction, saw the catas- 
 trophe, but Capp first took in the situation and found words 
 to cover it, shouting, "Look, boys ! Look, boys ! Jones' sup- 
 ply train is cut off." 
 
 We soon passed behind the knob out of sight and range of 
 the enemy's guns, and moved quietly along till the noon rest. 
 General Wilcox thus mentions the incident, "November 15th. 
 The enemy opened upon General Sturgis' train as he was 
 leaving the Springs, with two twenty-pound rifled and one 
 gun of light caliber, supported by a regiment of cavalry and 
 two of infantry. General Sturgis protected his train with his 
 batteries, but they were light compared with those of the 
 enemy. A brisk cannonading ensued." Quoting from Fer- 
 rero : "The fire from the enemy's batteries was very severe, 
 nearly every shell exploding in the train or batteries. I have 
 seldom seen artillery served with such precision as were the 
 enemy's guns during the short fight." Durell, commanding 
 "Dutch Battery," says: "With the bursting of a shell fol- 
 lowed many more in quick succession." 
 
46 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 November i6. Crossed the Orange and Alexandria rail- 
 road at Balston, retracing our summer footsteps. Ninth 
 Corps marching in three columns. One division in the road, 
 the other two parallel to the right and left, making just as good 
 time through fields and wood, low-growing pines and cedar, 
 with which the route was lined. 
 
 November 17 and 18. Marched as on day before. Push, 
 push, all day long. 
 
 November 19. Arrive in advance of army, opposite Fred- 
 ericksburg, Va., occupied by a Rebel regiment of Barksdale's 
 Mississippians. A town of about 5,000 inhabitants, situated 
 just below head of tide on Rappahannock River, which is 
 here about four hundred feet wide, and bivouacked near the 
 Lacy house on the Chatham farm. Troops collect in groups 
 along the bank and engage the "Johnnies' " picket in con- 
 versation, getting much merriment and entertainment in the 
 doubtful compliments exchanged. 
 
 The Stafford side we occupied was much higher than the 
 Spottsylvania side, opposite, and we could look down into the 
 streets of the old colonial town, the home of Washington's 
 widowed mother, where clustered tender memories of his boy- 
 hood days. Slight elevation of the voice was required to con- 
 verse with the collecting Rebels, and we were getting along 
 nicely with the dusty colored jean-clad fellows over the way, 
 until the Pennsylvanians and Yankees put in their "chin 
 music," as the boys called it, then the "fur flew," and pro- 
 fanity wound up the sociable. Among much not printable 
 ■ were the following remembered passages : 
 
 Durell's Dutch Battery : "Why did you leave the old flag?" 
 
 Rebel Picket : "Oh ! Go to hell ! It's only a damned old 
 gridiron." 
 
 Durell's Battery: "Damn you, we'll roast you with Penn- 
 sylvania Dutch ovens (shells) in a few days and make you 
 respect it." 
 
 Another inquisitive Yank, (nth New Hampshire), in nasal 
 tones, rejoicing in a recent issue of clothes : "Why don't you 
 fellows wear good clothes?" 
 
 The answer came quickly back, sharp, short, and was a 
 
FREDERICKSBURG CAMPAIGN, ETC. 47 
 
 stunner to the luckless setker after information : "These are 
 good enough to kill hogs in." 
 
 He was the dirtiest, raggedest, greasiest of the lot, and 
 though he might have passed muster at a hog killing, distant 
 observation lending "enchantment to the view," he certainly 
 would not have passed anywhere else. Our Yank quit. The 
 guying he got from his friends was too hot. He disappeared. 
 
 Our "Jim" Arnold of Co. E, slipping down to the level 
 of the river, resourceful always, on a reconnoissance en force, 
 was soon on good terms with the fellows over the water. 
 
 About nightfall "Jim" procured an old leaky skiff, crossed 
 and remained some time at the rebel campfire, and before he 
 left he exchanged coffee for tobacco, of which he brought 
 over a goodly store. Maryland being detailed for picket that 
 night, "Jim" was caught on his return by his own company 
 officer and duly, not unduly, punished for \iolation of "no in- 
 tercourse or trade with the enemy." Lucky "Jim" ! 
 
 November 20. Here again a change of base, from Alex- 
 andria to Aquia Creek, ran us short of provisions, though the 
 interval was shorter than at Warrenton. A few shells thrown 
 over the river to-day, as if to verify the Pennsylvanian's 
 promise of "Dutch ovens." 
 
 "Why did we fail to cross yesterday? Why do we lie here 
 idle, when we were led to believe, on our hurried march here, 
 that the south bank was our destination and objective point? 
 It's a puzzle. Many, seeing a flutter of petticoats over the 
 way, chafe at the delay. Want of pontoons is given as reason 
 for failure. Here seems reason for criticism, but as this 
 diary is intended for incidents under my own sight or hearing, 
 I must leave this question to more pretentious writers. Yet, 
 that we could have crossed and occupied the town and hills 
 beyond, brushing aside Barksdale's Mississippians, is a fact 
 that every drummer boy knew. 
 
 November 21. Move back from the river and into camp 
 back of Phillips' house, near our position of last summer; 
 scarcely were we settled when orders came causing us to move 
 down the hills to Falmouth Station, near the river termmus 
 of the military railroad from "The Creek," which had been 
 
48 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 made a distributing point for supplies. Here we were sepa- 
 rated from the river and the enemy only by a narrow, high 
 bluff, which, however, was good protection and concealed us 
 completely as viewed from the south. 
 
 And thus ended this strategic march of the grand army of 
 over one hundred miles, a magnificent spectacle of celerity 
 and military skill, a miserable failure in results and strategy. 
 
 Happy would it have been had the troops engaged in the 
 campaign, conducted so brilliantly to this point, been met by 
 the pontoons as was intended. The duration of the great 
 war might not have been shortened, but the progress of the 
 Army of the Potomac would not have been marred by a 
 blunder. 
 
 The corporate authorities of Fredericksburg were sum- 
 moned to surrender by 5 o'clock P. M., under threat of shell- 
 ing, upon refusal. Mayor M. Slaughter convened the council 
 and replied that the Confederate authorities promised not to 
 occupy the town in the following dictum : "While the troops 
 will not occupy the town they will not permit yours to do so." 
 This postponed the promised "Dutch ovens." It turned out 
 that our camp was pitched in a damp, dreary spot, a gravel pit 
 excavated in the side of a hill which surrounded it on all 
 sides and hid us from the enemy over the near-by river. My 
 impression now is that the sun never cast a ray there, though 
 it must have done so slightly sometime in the day. Here we 
 went into what might be termed winter quarters. Some made 
 huts above ground, others dug pits, drained them and put in 
 little stoves made of boiler plate from the Planter, attached 
 flues, and erected shelter tents over all. The Planter was a 
 sidewheel steamer which, at the commencement of the war, 
 ran out of Baltimore, had been captured by the Rebels, and 
 burned when her recapture seemed inevitable. The wreck 
 lay near our camp on the north bank of the river. Adjoining, 
 also, but a little farther east, was the early home of George 
 Washington, a plain two-story frame house, said to be the 
 identical one to which Washington's father removed when the 
 birthplace of his illustrious son in Westmoreland County, in 
 the northern neck of Virginia, was burned. We were making 
 history on historic ground. 
 
FREDERICKSBURG CAMPAIGN, ETC. 49 
 
 Our duties in the camp were to guard the immense stacks 
 of hardtack and meat and other stores accumulated for the 
 use of the army; also to take charge of trains and inspection 
 of passes to Aquia Creek by railroad. From now until De- 
 cember 1 2th it was a monotonous round, a wretched, thank- 
 less service and miserable camp. We longed to get back to 
 the brigade, although there we would have had our tour of 
 picket without fires and with daily drills. 
 
 November 25. Pontoons arrived six days behind time, 
 Major General John G. Parke, our ranking corps com- 
 mander, having been appointed chief of stafif of the 
 Army of the Potomac. Brigadier General Orlando B. Wilcox 
 became commander of the Ninth Corps, which, with the 
 Second Corps, composed the Right Grand Division, com- 
 manded by that brave and accomplished veteran, Major Gen- 
 eral Edwin V. Sumner, who, after reviewing the assembled 
 corps on the Stafford Hills, gave the 2d Maryland a spe- 
 cial review near their "cracker piles and salt horse" at the 
 station. It came upon us unexpectedly; it was not one of our 
 "show days" ; we were taken unawares and drew no prize. 
 We succeeded, however, in making the acquaintance of the 
 old "Regular" and admired him. It never, however, reached 
 us that the admiration was mutual. By this time we were 
 fairly acquainted with all the famous leaders of our mighty 
 host, and could tell them from a Dutch staff officer or an 
 Irish brigadier in the dark. 
 
 December 10. It is now twenty-odd days since we arrived 
 before Fredericksburg, then occupied only by non-combatants 
 and a weak picket. At that time the heights on both sides 
 of the river were in a state of civilized nature; now a scien- 
 tific barbarism reigns supreme. The city is almost deserted 
 by its inhabitants; only a venturesome few remain. Its gar- 
 rison now is a strong guard of four Mississippi regiments 
 (Barksdale's Brigade) ; the 3d Georgia and 8th Florida. 
 
 Falmouth Heights, upon the Stafford Hills on our side, 
 some seventy-five or a hundred feet above the bed of the 
 stream, bristles with guns. It is arranged for and crowned 
 with heavy artillery, and on every available spot on the other 
 hills guns are placed. From Falmouth to Pollock's Mills on 
 
50 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 White Oak Creek, six miles below, one hundred and forty- 
 seven gnns are en battery. Lee's position over the river and 
 back from and immediately opposite the city, about three- 
 quarters of a mile, and covering about six miles of front, was 
 well-nigh impregnable. A range of well-wooded hills com- 
 menced near the river, above Falmouth Ford, receded from 
 it and terminated abruptly at an unfinished railroad, Fred- 
 ericksburg and Gordonsville, with Marye's Hill, which was 
 about seventy-five feet above level of the city, commanding it. 
 About eight hundred yards back, a second and higher range 
 extended down the river to Hamilton Crossing, the junction 
 of a country road with the Richmond and Fredericksburg rail- 
 road. These well-wooded ranges were all crowned with artil- 
 lery. There were some three hundred pieces. In every place 
 available on the heights, and in front of them, breastworks 
 and rifle pits had been thrown up, and v/ere needed; espe- 
 cially on Marye's Hill the artillery v^as protected by strong 
 redoubts the height of a man. On Marye's Hill were two 
 three-inch rifle and six twelve-pounder guns, a full comple- 
 ment for its length, and at the Howison house, over Hazel 
 Run, on the higher range, twenty-six guns, from three to six 
 pounds, bore upon and enfiladed the plain over which troops 
 attacking would have to move to reach Marye's Hill, at foot 
 and front of which ran a sunken road with a concealed stone 
 wall four feet high, capable of holding for effective work 
 four single lines of infantry; and although Professor Lowe's 
 balloon made almost daily ascensions from near Burnside's 
 headquarters to ascertain the features of the enemy's lines, it 
 failed to discover this fatal, and all-important obstruction to 
 an advance. The left of the enemy's line was protected by a 
 canal, the waters of which were drawn from the river about 
 two miles above and ran into the city. The low ground below 
 these fortified hills was a plain, somewhat irregular, and cut 
 below the city by Hazel and Deep Runs, which emptied into 
 the river. 
 
 The place was admirable for defense, the arrangements 
 well and skilfully planned, the whole formed an ampitheater 
 well calculated to exhibit and exploit the dreadful horrors 
 of war. 
 
FREDERICKSBURG CAMPAIGN, ETC 5i 
 
 I have followed this story with much deliberation and thought, having 
 marched as an officer over practically the whole ground depicted. If it 
 needed any corroboration, I could give it unhesitatingly. With keen regret 
 too, I vividly recall the terrible mistake of the absence of the pontoons. 
 Had our army been able to cross the river when there was practically no 
 defense of Fredericksburg by the enemy, the city could have easily been 
 taken, and the awful loss of life in both armies would have been avoided. 
 Further than this, I do not believe any army could have won a victory for 
 the Union side at Fredericksburg. No army could have taken that city 
 after the enemy had fortified themselves. It was impregnable. Recently, 
 in visiting Washington, I talked with a number of Confederate officers 
 who were in Lee's army at Fredericksburg, and all said that there never 
 was a time during, or before that fight, that any Confederate officer 
 thought our troops would be successful in the assault. — Editor. 
 
HOW OUR REGIMENT SAVED OUR FLAGS 
 
 By John E. Gilman, i2Th Massachusetts Infantry, 
 Past Commander-in-Chief G. A. R. 
 
 We had been standing in line for between four and five 
 hours, firing steadily at the enemy, and obeying the order to 
 dress on the colors ; we finally found ourselves grouped in the 
 center with three officers and thirty-two men left of the regi- 
 ment. The enemy had received reinforcements and were 
 charging upon us. Captain Cook, the junior captain, and the 
 only one left on the field, gave the order to fall back; we went 
 back a few yards, when Adjutant Dehon cried out, "My God, 
 boys, where are the colors?" His words had the effect of 
 paralyzing us for a moment or two, then, as if governed by 
 one impulse, we dashed back, and there were the national and 
 State flags peeping out from beneath a pile of dead men. We 
 grabbed the men and threw them right and left, not thinking 
 or caring at the time whether they were our tentmates who 
 had stood beside us a few moments before. Having thrown 
 off the last man, we raised our colors, shook them in the face 
 of the coming line of Rebels, and with their terrible yell 
 sounding in our ears, and their plainly heard words, "Sur- 
 render, you Yankee !" we ran back into the deep 
 
 cornfield where we were in hiding, our only salvation from 
 annihilation being the fact that the Rebels had discharged their 
 guns in the beginning of the charge and had not had the time 
 to reload. 
 
 This is my own personal experience. We have always 
 claimed that our regiment sustained the highest per cent, of 
 loss of any regiment of either side during the war, and as 
 Captain Hastings is ready at any time to make a sworn affi- 
 davit relating to the removal of his large company, it seems 
 to me it should be allowed officially; at any rate the official 
 list of 67 per cent, is, as you see, the highest on the Union 
 side in battle. 
 
 The fact I dwell upon mostly, however, is the narrow 
 escape of our colors from capture, which would have been to 
 all of us a personal disgrace after the remarkable fight we had 
 put up for over four hours without once being reinforced. 
 
 52 
 
ARTHUR DEHON 
 
 By George Kimball, Company A, i2th Massachusetts 
 
 Infantry 
 
 For the following interesting story, I am indebted to the commander-in- 
 chief, Grand Army of the Republic, Comrade Oilman of Boston, during 
 the war a member of the 12th Massachusetts Infantry, known as the 
 "Webster Regiment," and to Comrade George Kimball, of the same regi- 
 ment, and secretary of the Webster Regiment Association. The latter in 
 a personal letter to me says : "You will find, with the story of the colors 
 of our regiment, the story of Arthur Dehon. These are thoroughly re- 
 liable. Dehon was promoted for his gallantry at Antietam. The letter 
 to his father was loaned to me by his father. Our regiment lost (i^ per 
 cent, of its men at Antietam, according to official figures. I have always 
 claimed, however, that we lost over 80 per cent. We had nine companies 
 in line, the missing company numbering 70 men or more. It was taken 
 from us for provost duty at 11 P. M. on the i6th. It is fair to suppose 
 that the official loss was based upon the whole ten companies. But base 
 the loss upon the nine companies actually in line, and it makes our loss 
 over 80 per cent., or, as I figured it some years ago, 84.732 per cent. I 
 hope that the Dehon article will be of service to you. It contains solid 
 facts." 
 
 While the aforesaid Dehon letter is a sort of personal sketch of the 
 young hero, it contains so much of thrilling war history, it is not only 
 fascinating but valuable. It can readily be imagined that young Dehon 
 was far more than an ordinary soldier, when it will be seen that General 
 Meade contributes a letter about him. The reader will have no surprise 
 that Comrade Kimball should have written : "What a brilliant example to 
 the youth of America is furnished in the heroism and faithfulness and 
 devotion of such men as Arthur Dehon ! How aptly does his career illus- 
 trate the truth of the old aphorism: You cannot always judge by appear- 
 ances." — Editor. 
 
 In January, 1862, while in winter quarters near Frederick, 
 Md., the Webster Regiment had an addition to its roll of com- 
 missioned officers in the person of a young man from Boston 
 
 53 
 
54 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 named Arthur Dehon. Had the candidate for miHtary glory 
 stepped from the ranks in the ordinary way the matter would 
 have occasioned no surprise, but as he came from civil life, 
 with his commission as 2d lieutenant in his pocket, and came, 
 too, among men who had begun already to imagine them- 
 selves veterans, it is no wonder that his reception was neither 
 cordial nor enthusiastic among the rank and file. 
 
 Nor was this all. The young man's outward appearance 
 was not indicative of the possession of those traits which 
 mark the natural leader of men and the ideal soldier. He was 
 boyish-looking, slender, and beneath the average height for 
 a man of his years, while his face was pale and well-nigh 
 beardless. Although twenty-one years of age, he seemed at 
 least four years younger. He was born in Boston, and edu- 
 cated in Boston schools, and later entered Harvard. His 
 health broke down while there, so that when a Junior he was 
 compelled to give up and seek a return to health in a more 
 congenial climate. In California he had found it; his friends 
 and himself were buoyant with happy hopes of regained 
 health and strength. Evidently he was a patriot from birth. 
 The war broke out. He abandoned his search for health, be- 
 cause he felt his country needed him. After the battle of Ball's 
 Blufif and the death of the brave Lyon, he could wait no 
 longer. So he came to us. 
 
 The men of the regiment soon found that the young lieu- 
 tenant was a man of rare worth, and all began to love him. 
 He labored incessantly to prepare himself and others for the 
 coming ordeal. 
 
 On February 27, 1862, his active campaigning began, for 
 on that day the Potomac was crossed at Harper's Ferry. The 
 men suffered terribly from the cold and the hardships of the 
 march over the frozen ground, and at night, when they lay 
 down, were well-nigh heartbroken and discouraged. But 
 Dehon seemed to be everywhere, and he gave us an example of 
 patient endurance, although suffering as keenly as the rest. 
 
 On March i8th we all gained fresh inspiration, for upon 
 that day we passed the spot where John Brown was hanged, 
 and at Dehon's suggestion we made the welkin ring with 
 "John Brown's Bodv." 
 
ARTHUR DEHON 55 
 
 On up the valley to Winchester, back to Berryville, across 
 the Shenandoah and over the mountains, we at last, on the 
 29th of March, after great hardship, found ourselves at Ma- 
 nassas. We did not remain here long, nor did we care to. for 
 we were reminded of the old battleground of the year before, 
 and unpleasant reminders were everywhere, including half- 
 buried bodies of brave men who fell upon that eventful day. 
 
 The next four months were full of hardship and excite- 
 ment, marching and countermarching, skirmishing and recon- 
 noitering, and Dehon, who had now become a ist lieutenant, 
 bore his full share with that high sense of duty that every day 
 increased our respect for him. 
 
 On August 9th came the battle of Cedar Mountain. This 
 was our first fight. In a letter to his father, Dehon thus 
 speaks of his experience: 
 
 "The rifle firing lasted from fifteen to twenty minutes, and 
 the enemy were within fifty yards. . . . We were under fire 
 about two hours and a half, and only five men left the ranks, 
 none from my company. ... I did not feel frightened nor 
 want to run, but I could not help stooping to avoid the shells, 
 though they were not half so bad as the rifle balls. The crack 
 of the rifles made us feel a little nervous, but I was too much 
 taken up with the company to be scared." 
 
 Then came Pope's disastrous and discouraging retreat, dur- 
 ing which we were almost disheartened, but Dehon always 
 looked upon the sunny side of everything, and did much to 
 sustain our drooping spirits by his constant cheerfulness. 
 
 On August 30th came the Second Battle of Bull Run. The 
 nervousness caused by the "crack of the rifles," of which De- 
 hon speaks in his letter describing Cedar Mountain, now gave 
 place to coolness under fire that we had never seen excelled. 
 Through all the rush and whirl of that terrible fight he was 
 with the foremost, and in endeavoring to stem the tide of 
 Longstreet's advance, in which our brave colonel lost his life, 
 Dehon was with the last men remaining on the field. His 
 clothing was riddled with bullets. 
 
 After the battle Dehon performed an act that endeared him 
 still more to the men of the regiment, and should result in 
 placing his name high among the nation's heroes. Colonel 
 
56 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 Webster had been left on the field mortally wounded. Dehon 
 obtained permission to go inside the enemy's lines to search 
 for him, although he was informed that it was the intention 
 of the Confederates to hold everyone found upon the field. 
 In fact, he was detained, but urged his case so persistently 
 that he was finally released by Dr. Guild, Lee's medical direc- 
 tor, and allowed to proceed upon his errand of mercy. He 
 found Webster after a long search, but death had relieved him 
 of his sufferings. He buried the body, but subsequently, ob- 
 taining a horse, disinterred it, removing the soil with his 
 hands, as a spade could not then be secured. He strapped his 
 dead chief upon the back of the animal and brought him 
 safely to our lines, whence he was sent to Marshfield to repose 
 beside his distinguished father. 
 
 At the bloody battle of Antietam Dehon shone out again as 
 an ideal soldier. It was here that the Webster regiment sus- 
 tained, according to the number engaged, ihe heaviest loss in 
 killed and wounded of any regiment on the Union side. 
 Throughout the day, in the midst of the carnage, Dehon, now 
 acting adjutant, was conspicuous for his coolness and bravery. 
 As we pressed on through the cornfield in the face of that 
 murderous fire he was among the foremost. Upon Hartsuff's 
 Knoll, in that awful storm of shot and shell, and that tornado 
 of bullets, he was everywhere, rendering aid and stimulating 
 the courage of the men. 
 
 Writing of the battle a day or two later, after speaking of 
 the terrible loss of officers and men, he said: "Then they 
 seemed to come to me for orders, as I was the only field or 
 staff officer left. After the color sergeant was shot I ordered 
 three different men to take the colors up, and saw one after 
 another wounded; and when the last fell T had not the heart 
 to order another up, so I picked them up and brought them 
 off myself till we were out of danger, and then gave them to 
 one of the men." 
 
 When the regiment was relieved from duty in the front 
 line of battle it had volunteered to support a battery. Dehon, 
 thinking he could be spared from the regiment — it was now 
 so small, — offered his services to Colonel Coulter, who was in 
 command of the brigade, as Hartsuff had been wounded. For 
 
ARTHUR DEHON 57 
 
 several days he thus performed the duties of acting assistant 
 adjutant general of the brigade in addition to those of adjutant 
 of the regiment. 
 
 His bravery and faithfulness on that eventful 17th of Sep- 
 tember had attracted the attention of officers high in authority, 
 and our brave little adjutant was mentioned in General Orders. 
 We had become very proud of him now, but were destined 
 soon to lose him, for Major General Meade, having been ap- 
 pointed to the temporary command of an army corps, was in 
 need of the services of just such a man as Arthur Dehon; he 
 took him from us. He thus became an aide-de-camp upon the 
 staff of that distinguished officer. 
 
 In December, after a campaign of great hardship, came the 
 battle of Fredericksburg. Dehon, having passed from our 
 immediate view, the remaining particulars of his brilliant ca- 
 reer in this, his last battle, are given in his own words and in 
 those of his chief. Writing to his father under date of De- 
 cember 9th, he said: 
 
 "It seems quite funny to be sitting in one's tent, just as 
 comfortable as can be, with the consciousness that there will 
 be an action to-morrow. Generally, the night before a battle 
 we have been so busy or so tired that rest and sleep were most 
 sought after. But now one has a perfect opportunity to sit 
 down comfortably and contemplate it. We should cross, I 
 think, without a serious fight, and shall not have one till we 
 get near Richmond, but I cannot tell. I hope we shall thrash 
 them severely, and then there will be a satisfactory peace. I 
 shall try to do my duty to-morrow and be of what assistance 
 I can to the General, and thus endeavor to repay, by well- 
 doing, his uniform kindness." 
 
 The next day he added a postscript to his letter, saying : 
 
 "No orders for us yet, though some of the artillery has 
 been put in motion. Good-by. The batteries are moving." 
 
 The rest of the story is told in the following letter : 
 
 "Camp Opposite Fredericksburg, Va., 
 
 "December 16, 1862. 
 
 "Dear Sir : It was my painful duty to telegraph you yes- 
 terday of the loss of your son Arthur. He fell on the mom- 
 
58 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 ing of the 13th instant, while endeavoring to carry an im- 
 portant order to one of my brigade commanders. He was 
 seen to fall from his horse, and was immediately approached 
 by an officer in the vicinity, who, finding life extinct, removed 
 his watch from his person. The ground on which he fell, re- 
 maining at the close of the action in the possession of the 
 enemy, his fate was involved in uncertainty until yesterday 
 afternoon, when, under a flag of truce, a search was made 
 for our dead and wounded, and Arthur's body was found 
 where he was seen to fall. 
 
 "My experience of the unnecessary suffering occasioned to 
 relatives and friends by the premature announcement of the 
 loss of officers, and the hope I would not abandon, till forced 
 by positive evidence, that it might please God in His infinite 
 mercy to spare Arthur, induced me to make no effort to tele- 
 graph you till the result of yesterday's examination proved 
 he was no more. His body was immediately taken charge of 
 by the officers of my staff, and every respect paid. This 
 morning my aide-de-camp, Captain Coxe, has taken him to 
 Washington, with his servant, his horse, and his personal 
 effects, and was directed to telegraph you of this fact, and 
 make such arrangements as you might desire. 
 
 "In addition to the pain which always accompanies the duty 
 I am now discharging, I have now to mourn the loss not only 
 of a faithful and efficient officer, but that of a valued and 
 cherished friend. During the brief space that Arthur and 
 myself have been officially connected, I had time to learn his 
 many good qualities, his high sense of duty, his amiability of 
 disposition, and that which most particularly charmed me, his 
 earnest desire to promote by every means in his power the 
 happiness of yourself and the other members of his family. 
 
 "I am aware, my dear sir, of the impossibility of offering 
 consolation to one afflicted as you a^^. All I can offer is sym- 
 pathy and condolence, in which I am joined by the whole 
 division, to whom Arthur had become endeared by his manly 
 character and the exhibition of his personal gallantry. In the 
 army your son is sincerely and truly mourned; and if it were 
 possible to be reconciled to the sacrifice you have been called 
 on to make, the reputation he had acquired, the love that was 
 
ARTHUR DEHON 59 
 
 borne him, and the grief his death has occasioned, might in a 
 measure soften the severity of the blow. 
 
 "Believe me, I feel most deeply for you, and earnestly pray 
 God w^ill give you strength to support the affliction which He, 
 for some good purpose, has visited you with. 
 
 "Most truly and sincerely yours, 
 
 "George G. Meade. 
 
 "Wm. Dehon, Esq." 
 
ANDREW JACKSON 
 
 By John E. Oilman, i2th Massachusetts Infantry, 
 Past Commander-in-Chief G. A. R. 
 
 Andrew Jackson was born in West Bridgewater, Mass., 
 November 30, 1838. April 27, 1861, he enlisted in Company 
 F, 1 2th Massachusetts Volunteers. He was with the regi- 
 ment at Cedar Mountain, Rappahannock Station, Thorough- 
 fare Gap and Second Bull Run, and in these battles, and in 
 fact throughout his whole army career, showed unostenta- 
 tious but unflinching bravery and faithfulness. 
 
 At Second Bull Run he was wounded and taken prisoner, 
 but was exchanged and returned to the regiment in season to 
 take part in the battles of Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville. 
 
 At Chancellorsville he "got the drop" on three Confeder- 
 ates, an officer and two privates, as the regiment was advanc- 
 ing over the ground which had just been so hurriedly vacated 
 by the Eleventh Corps. Jackson, by his determined bearing 
 and resolute orders, compelled all three of the "Johnnies" to 
 accompany him as his prisoners to regimental headquarters, 
 although each one of them towered head and shoulders above 
 the plucky captor, for Andrew, be it known, hardly reaches 
 the average in stature. 
 
 Jackson was made a corporal on the ist of January, 1863, 
 and at Gettysburg, as stated above, he seized both flags as 
 their bearers were successively shot down, and brought them 
 both in safety through that "mouth of hell" which all had to 
 enter who reached Cemetery Hill at the close of that fateful 
 day. 
 
 The next day, the second of the battle, he received a wound 
 in his shoulder from a spent bullet; this gave him a lame 
 shoulder for a week or two, but he remained on duty with 
 the regiment. 
 
 He carried the national colors till January i, 1864. ^^ 
 March ist he was made sergeant. At the battle of the Wilder- 
 ness, May 5, 1864, he was again wounded ;md sent to the hos- 
 pital, but in thirty days was found on duty and thus remained 
 to the close of the war. 
 
 60 
 
AN INCIDENT OF THE WAR 
 
 By David A. Hollingsworth, Private 25TH Ohio Vol- 
 unteer Infantry, Member of Congress from Ohio 
 
 Ulysses S. Grant, the great captain of the Union forces, 
 when he said "Let us have peace," meant it from the bottom 
 of his big loyal heart, and every true soldier of the North re- 
 sponded, "Amen: so let it be." They had learned to respect 
 Southern valor and Southern courage. They have kept the 
 faith. 
 
 When Robert E, Lee of Virginia, Grant's famous rival, the 
 real idol of the Southland, with calm dignity and a nobility 
 of soul born of his own belief in the righteousness of his 
 cause, feeling that his personal honor was untouched, but rec- 
 ognizing the inevitable, bowed his head in sorrow and handed 
 his sword to General Grant in token of capitulation and his 
 acceptance of terms, the most generous ever offered by a victor 
 on the field of battle, he acted in good faith, intending thereby 
 the full significance of his action. When he said, in anguish 
 of heart, to his devoted followers, "Boys, the war is over," he 
 meant it, and they, too, like their comrades in the North, re- 
 sponded in fitting approval. They also have kept the faith. 
 
 My own part in the great drama of the sixties was an un- 
 important and modest one. A year or more of service as a 
 private in the 25th Ohio Volunteer Infantry did not furnish 
 many opportunities for distinction or for doing harm to the 
 Confederacy, but, simple and uneventful as it was, I am proud 
 of it, and have no apologies to make. 
 
 I have a little keepsake given to me by a Confederate pris- 
 oner I captured in one of the minor engagements of the war. 
 It is a fractional bill of one dollar and a half, issued August 
 I, 1 86 1, by the Metropolitan Savings Bank, Richmond, and 
 payable in current funds of the kind then in use in the South- 
 ern States. It is a curiosity to-day, but its value and signifi- 
 
 61 
 
62 THE WAR OF THE" 'SIXTIES 
 
 cance to me, then and now, are shown by a memorandum of 
 facts entered by me on its back after my return to camp. It 
 follows : 
 
 "This note was given to me December 13, 1861, on the 
 battlefield of Alleghany Summit, Virginia, by a Confederate 
 soldier whom I personally captured. He belonged to a Geor- 
 gia regiment. I shot at him once before he surrendered. Af- 
 ter throwing down his gun and giving up, he remarked that 
 he was nearly starved, and I gave him enough for a good 
 square meal out of the cooked rations in my haversack, before 
 turning him over to the prisoners' guard. He thanked me 
 very cordially, said the 'Yanks' were not such bad people 
 after all, and asked that I accept the note as a keepsake. I 
 felt a boyish pride in having captured a full-grown Rebel when 
 I was only seventeen years and twenty-two days old." 
 
 God bless that particular son of the South ! I am glad my 
 shot went wild of its mark. I called him a Rebel then, and 
 he called me a Yank, in the common language of the time; 
 but I shared with him my "flitch and hardtack," and if he 
 is still living, and will visit me in Washington, I shall be glad 
 to entertain him with the best meal the Capitol cafe can afford. 
 
 In reply to my letter to Mr. Hollingsworth, he said: "I am sending you here- 
 with a few lines. They are part of a speech which I made in the House of 
 Representatives." The above are the lines from this speech. — Editor. 
 
BATTLE OF BACKBONE MOUNTAIN, ON RETREAT 
 FROM FORT SMITH 
 
 By Colonel A. V. Reif, C S. A. 
 
 I think no account of this engagement has ever appeared in print save 
 a brief reference in the report of Colonel Cloud, the commander of the 
 Union forces, which appears in the Records of the Rebelhon, and in that 
 account the thrilling story of the ambush which appears in the following 
 pages is not given. — Editor. 
 
 In 1863, I think it was, General Hindman had fallen back 
 to Little Rock, leaving northwest Arkansas in possession of 
 the Federal forces who occupied Fayetteville, also Fort Gib- 
 son, on the Arkansas River, General Cabell's brigade of cav- 
 alry and Colonel Alorgan's regiment of infantry remaining 
 at Fort Smith. Colonel Cloud, commanding quite a force of 
 Federal troops, moved down the river on the south side. Gen- 
 eral Cabell met them at the crossing of Poteau River, and had 
 quite a skirmish with them. Finding that Cloud was crossing 
 Poteau south of Fort Smith, which would throw him in our 
 rear, we took up a line of retreat southward, through a large 
 prairie, Colonel J. C. Monroe's regiment of cavalry bringing 
 up the rear. Very soon the Federals showed up. As major 
 of the regiment I had charge of the defenses in the rear. 
 Dropping out a company at favorable points I would fire on 
 their advance and fall back through other formation, and 
 then take up stands at other good points. We were armed 
 with British Enfield rifles, which had a very long range — I 
 believe the best infantry gun in service at that time — and also 
 had a few pistols. The Enfield rifle was a muzzle-loader and 
 discharged a long hollow-ended bullet. The wind whistled 
 over this hollow end in its flight, and made a most terrible 
 noise. Later, a Federal officer inquired of me about the kind 
 of gun we used, saying : "You killed some of my men every 
 time we came in sight, and wounded others, over a mile dis- 
 
 63 
 
64 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 tant." Each man of the Federal advance company was armed 
 with two six-shooters and a breech-loading carbine. With 
 our Enfield rifles we kept them at a respectful distance with- 
 out loss to ourselves, and finally reached the timber and Back- 
 bone Ridge. 
 
 Captain Lyon, who commanded the Federal advance, was 
 a gallant and brave officer, but had little discretion or judg- 
 ment. In passing through skirts of timber I discovered that 
 he had no flankers or scouts on either side, and thought how 
 easily he could be ambuscaded. As we reached the foot of 
 the ridge, our regiment was ordered to dismount and move 
 down the road 300 or 400 yards, to hold the enemy in check 
 while General Cabell and Colonel Monroe prepared for battle 
 on the ridge. Lieutenant Colonel O'Neil moved the regiment 
 down and fronted into line, half of the regiment on the west 
 side of the road, the other half in bushes so tall that you 
 could not see twenty yards ahead. I said, "Colonel. I think 
 this is a very bad formation. Let us ambush them — they 
 have no flankers at all out to-day." He re])lied, "If you wish 
 to try it, T will turn the command over to vou, provided you 
 will assume the responsibility." I told him that I would do it. 
 although there was quite a risk, rather than fight with half 
 the regiment hidden in the bushes. 
 
 I had noticed a long field extending northward with a 
 fence about twenty steps from the road, the tall brush cut 
 down, evidently to move the fence to the road. This space 
 was now grown up with sprouts from two to four feet high. 
 It was an ideal place for the purpose, only a little too close. 
 I strung the men along in single file in fence corners, told 
 them to lie flat down and to make no noise, and I thought 
 I would make a success of the scheme, as the enemy had 
 used no flankers that day. As I rode along in the rear, each 
 soldier understood my plan and obej'^ed orders. I told them 
 if they were discovered to make the best fight they could in 
 the fence corners, and that I would fire the signal gun at the 
 south end of the line. 
 
 About the time I reached my position I beard our last com- 
 pany lieutenant (Chastain) firing about half a mile in the 
 rear. In a few minutes the lieutenant approached on a gallop 
 
BATTLE OF BACKBONE MOUNTAIN 65 
 
 I halted him and asked, "What news?" He repHed, "They will 
 be here in ten minutes." I then sent my horse back and told 
 Lieutenant Chastain to dismount his men and to place them 
 so as to protect us when we mounted. Very soon I saw four 
 soldiers (not in blue uniforms, however) advancing cautiously 
 along and on the lookout, with pistol in hand, and butt of 
 gun on boot and in saddle. Just as they got opposite wnere 
 I was lying, one said, "By God ! Here's been infantry." My 
 feathers fell, as I thought they would halt and make an in- 
 vestigation; but presently another replied, "I see the rear 
 guard." "No," responded the first who had spoken, "that is 
 an ambulance," and they passed on, talking. Everything down 
 the fence was as still as death. There were a few bushes on the 
 inside where F. H. McDaniel, our sergeant major, and myself 
 could rise on our knees without exposure. Soon the head of 
 the column appeared, an officer with a clean white laundered 
 shirt and collar in front, an orderly in blue blouse by his side, 
 the remainder in two ranks and close order, a few files back 
 a little guidon or flag fluttering in the breeze. A good deal 
 of talking was going on. I heard one fellow say, "Boys, we 
 will have a good time in Fort Smith, I know nearly every- 
 body there." 
 
 We were still quiet. I could see the road full for 200 or 
 300 yards. I was an expert shot, and carried a Maynard rifle 
 and pistols. I let the officer pass a short distance and then 
 fired at him. His horse stopped and then he fell over toward 
 my side. The whole force then came to a halt, and our regi- 
 ment opened all along the line. I drew my pistol and fired at 
 a soldier as he started to run. He was holding his pistol high 
 up, and I saw it fall, and got it later. It so happened that 
 when the firing began the advance guard of four men had 
 gotten within forty or fifty 3''ards of where Lieutenant Chas- 
 tain had built a fence across a lane. He killed one of these, 
 wounded another and captured another. The first ran the 
 gauntlet, several firing at him, but he made it through and 
 escaped. One soldier jumped over the fence and surrendered. 
 I do not think the enemy fired a gun. 
 
 Colonel Cloud fronted into line in the field below and began 
 firing. As we fell back along this fence we returned his fire. 
 
66 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 He was slow in following us up, however, and as we mounted. 
 Major Duffie, of the General's staff, brought orders for us to 
 cross over the ridge rapidly, and then dismount and move to the 
 top of the ridge to the right of the road. 
 
 Not seeing Colonel O'Neil, I took charge of the regiment 
 and passed over the right, below the top. Later, I learned 
 that they had been ordered, in case they were pressed, to fall 
 back to the top and make a stand there. The infantry had 
 said that if a fight occurred the cavalry would run off and 
 leave them to be captured or killed, so as we passed in a 
 gallop they imagined we were stampeded and were in a good 
 frame of mind to abandon the field, not knowing that we were 
 to take a position on top of the ridge. As we passed the top 
 I saw Captain Huey's four-gun battery ready for action. 
 There was barely enough room on the sharp top for the guns. 
 Dismounting on the south side we moved rapidly to the top, 
 passing to the right along the ridge, east, and went into line 
 and began firing. Our battery, on the eminence at the foot 
 of the ridge, was firing rapidly, and there was a lively fusil- 
 lade of small arms on both sides. The road struck the ridge 
 in the shape of a V, which placed us directly above their 
 battery and forces, not over 300 or 400 yards distant, while 
 the infantry were distant 600 or 700 yards on the left, the 
 enemy's battery and forces firing directly at them. I strung 
 the regiment along the top of the ridge, east of our battery, 
 where the men could rise and fire and then squat down and 
 load in almost perfect safety. I rode along a few paces in 
 the rear of the line and urged the men to take good aim, for 
 we had many good shots in the regiment. The old Enfields 
 did good service and must have done great damage to the 
 enemy's battery and men. 
 
 Thus we stood for some time, when suddenly the infantry 
 stampeded, and in spite of all efforts, they could not be stopped 
 on top of the ridge. The Federals then turned their guns on 
 the line of our regiment and the battery, but the shots either 
 struck the bluff or passed over us. Our battery was in about 
 as safe a place as the regiment. We would fall back and load, 
 then move forward and fire. After some time General Cabell 
 galloped up to me and said, "All my command has gone ex- 
 
BATTLE OF BACKBONE MOUNTAIN 67 
 
 cept your regiment and the battery. I will try to collect them 
 at the first water we reach. I want you to stand your ground 
 and fight them like hell!" He rode with me to the battery, 
 which was still firing, and called Tom Applegate, who had 
 charge of a gun called "Old Long Tom," a cast-iron piece 
 eight or nine feet long, and said to him : "I am going to move 
 the three brass guns and leave you and Old Tom with Mon- 
 roe's regim.ent. Take all artillerymen you want, carry ammu- 
 nition near the muzzle, fire as rapidly as possible, and don't let 
 the enemy know the other guns are gone."' I said nothing, 
 but rode back and said to the men, "You can see the flash of 
 that battery; do your best to silence it," and very soon the 
 battery and the whole Federal force withdrew and took up 
 the line of retreat toward the north. I told the men to keep 
 up the fire as long as they could reach the immense dust the 
 Federals were raising in their retreat, then rode to the gun 
 and told Tom Applegate to keep up firing as long as "Long 
 Tom" could reach them, and stood behind and saw several 
 elevated shots descend into the dust cloud. Then everything 
 became perfectly quiet. 
 
 In a few moments I sent a courier to General Cabell in- 
 forming him that the Federals had all gone toward Fort 
 Smith, and after a while received an order to fall back to the 
 foot of the ridge, mount and preserve line of battle, also to 
 send a strong picket to the top of the ridge. Presently Major 
 Duffie came with an order for the regiment to fall back to 
 camp, but for me to take five or six men, go back and bury 
 the dead and look after the wounded, also to carry the Fed- 
 eral commander a message which in substance was this : "You 
 have some of my men. I have some of yours. As you know, 
 our governments are at loggerheads in reference to the ex- 
 change of prisoners. No one need know of it. Will you 
 exchange?" 
 
 I told Major Duffie that I would go back with an armed 
 company, as the enemy were all gone. He remarked, "You 
 obey orders or you may be cashiered." After searching for a 
 white handkerchief without success, a soldier gave me a piece 
 of his moderately white shirt, and I sent word to Lieutenant 
 
68 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 Giastain to fall back and take position as rear guard for the 
 regiment. 
 
 'leaking five or six men, I started up the ridge, when I met 
 the lieutenant about halfway down. Two men in blue were 
 riding with him, to whom he introduced me. They were 
 Colonel Cloud and his orderly. Colonel Cloud spoke up and 
 said, "I sent a man forward and asked him not to fire, as I 
 wished to talk with you, so when you were sent to relieve 
 him I requested permission to ride down to the yellow flag, 
 which I could see, and he consented." We were then about 
 opposite a little log house. I told him I would go w^'th him. 
 We found nine wounded Confederates, with a surgeon and 
 two or three assistants. 
 
 My party and Cloud and his orderly passed up the ridge, 
 and as we went down I saw one of our wagons w-hich had 
 broken down, also a good-looking tent. I told the Colonel 
 that such were scarce articles, South, and that I w^ould take 
 it back with me. "Why," said he, "that is abandoned prop- 
 erty and belongs to the United States." T told him it seemed 
 to be on neutral ground. "Well," said he, "you may have 
 my consent to take it," which I did later. We passed beyond 
 the place of ambuscade, where I saw eleven dead horses in 
 and near the road, and a few^ crippled ones in the bushes. 
 
 Strange as it may seem, he said nothing about the ambush, 
 nor did I mention it. Cloud had about eighty men who came 
 back with him. Some deserters reported that all of Cabell's 
 force had gone, and Cloud came back to see for himself. I 
 got this from good authority, but I did not see any of his 
 men. 
 
 When I parted wath Colonel Cloud he said : "Tell General 
 Cabell to send me any prisoners he has and I will exchange a 
 like number, rank for rank, with him. I want one man, espe- 
 cially, w^ho was captured to-da)^" The name of this man I 
 have forgotten. So in a few days Sergeant Eli McDaniels. 
 who was by my side when I fired the signal gun at the officer 
 in command of the enemy, took five or six prisoners back and 
 made the exchange. In conversation with Colonel Cloud he 
 said to McDaniels : "I w^ant you to give my compliments to 
 
BATTLE OF BACKBONE MOUNTAIN 69 
 
 an officer, I guess he was an officer, who was on your picket 
 line when we had the fight on the Poteau River. I was on 
 
 the hne with four or five of our pickets, and seeing this officer 
 passing, thirty or forty yards on our front, at a brisk gait, 
 being a good shot I dismounted, took a soldier's gun and did 
 my best to bring him down. From the way he ran after I 
 fired I don't think I hit him." ''Yes," said McDaniels, "I 
 heard General Cabell's aid-de-camp tell about this." This aid 
 was from Fort Smith, but I have forgotten his name. Colonel 
 Cloud had expressed great regret at the loss of Captain Lyon 
 in the Backbone fight, so McDaniel said to him, "Colonel, you 
 are not as good a shot as Major Rieff, as I was by his side 
 when he fired the signal gun and shot Captain Lyon." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Cloud in great anger, "that man I met 
 with a flag of truce and treated so courteously? That was 
 murder, bloody murder!" 
 
 McDaniels reminded him that an ambuscade was legiti- 
 mate warfare, to which he assented, and thus closed the 
 incident. 
 
 General Cabell's loss was very small. I looked over the 
 ground, buried one dead man and saw nine wounded. After 
 the war I met Mr. Watts, whom I knew v^?ell, and who was 
 with Cloud's command. He told me he was Colonel Cloud's 
 orderly and was at his side when the signal gun was tired. 
 He also told me that when the command reached Fort Smith 
 only eight of L3'on's company reported for duty, and that 
 afterward they were furloughed and sent home to recruit 
 their ranks. 
 
 It has been said that a few men of the other companies re- 
 mained with Monroe's regiment until the fight ended, but, if 
 so, they did not report to me, nor were they present when we 
 withdrew. 
 
 What T have written are the facts concerning the Backbone 
 fight. I believe they will be corroborated by every man be- 
 longing to Monroe's regiment who was present at the time, 
 and this sketch is taken from notes made soon after the 
 occurrence. 
 
INCIDENTS OF THE BLOCKADE, 1861-55* 
 By Rear Admiral John J. Almy. U. S. N. 
 
 The incidents were many and various. The writer com- 
 manded the U. S. Steamer Connecticut on the blockade off 
 Wilmington, N, C, for fourteen months, and during that 
 period captured and sent in four steamers, viz., Juno, Scotia, 
 Minnie, and Greyhound, with valuable cargoes. The vessels 
 and cargoes were adjudged worth $1,063,352.49. The Con- 
 necticut ran ashore and destroyed four other blockade run- 
 ners, viz.. Phantom, Herald, Ceres, and Diamond. 
 
 The blockade-runners would always select dark nights to 
 run in and out, and certain stages of the moon, generally 
 between the last and first quarters of the moon, when it set 
 early and rose late. This moon arrangement was always a 
 matter of great importance to them. Then a tolerably high 
 tide, also, entered into the calculation. 
 
 The first blockade-runner captured by the Connecticut was 
 the Jiino. It was a bright, pleasant morning off shore, and 
 out about seventy miles from Wilmington, when, at daylight, 
 she was discovered. Chase was immediately given, and in 
 three hours she was a prize. When the captain was brought 
 on board he was greeted with the usual "Good-morning." 
 with the additional remark, "Glad to see you," to which he 
 replied, "Damned if I am glad to see you!'" "I suppose not," 
 I remarked. I did not blame him at all, for to him it was 
 becoming acquainted imder very unpleasant conditions. 
 
 A week before, the Juno had safely run the blockade in — 
 
 A paper read before the Loyal Legion Commandery, District of Co- 
 lumbia, and kindly given me by its recorder, Colonel John Tweedale. 
 U. S. A. 
 
 70 
 
INCIDENTS OF THE BLOCKADE, 1861-65 71 
 
 had discharged her English cargo, and taken on board the 
 usual Confederate American cargo of cotton, tobacco, and 
 turpentine, and was now bound to Nassau. 
 
 Among other letters found on board of the Juno was one 
 left open and unfinished, commenced at Washington and 
 addressed to the owner in England, in which the captain 
 described the successful running in past the sleepy-headed 
 Yankees at night, and that he expected to be lucky enough in 
 running out, of which he would inform them on his arrival 
 at Nassau, when he would close and send his letter. But the 
 said letter never reached Nassau nor England. 
 
 These blockade-runners were all English steamers, and 
 were painted lead-color, which was to prevent their being 
 discovered at night when running close in along land. The 
 fire and steam arrangements were for burning the soft Eng- 
 lish coal, which always made much black smoke, by which 
 they could be discovered a long distance in the day. The 
 smoke could sometimes be seen before the vessel was visible. 
 
 We have heard and we have read of the excitement on 
 board of a whale-ship produced by the cry of the lookout at 
 the masthead, "Spout O!" A whale in sight; boats are 
 quickly got ready for lowering, with harpoons, lines, and 
 lances, and the ship steered for the prey. 
 
 On board of the Connecticut, when the lookout at the mast- 
 head sung out, "Black smoke !" all was commotion. Every- 
 one was upon his feet, and all eyes and the ship's head turned 
 in the reported direction; all steam was raised, and the chase 
 commenced. 
 
 A chase of this kind once lasted fifteen hours. Black 
 smoke was discovered at sunrise, pursuit was begun, and con- 
 tinued until after dark, when the blockade-runner was lost 
 sight of. But the Connecticut got within two miles of her, 
 making a gain of ten miles, as it was estimated that she was 
 twelve miles off when first discovered. To enable her to 
 escape she had to throw overboard nearly all her cargo, which 
 comprised English goods, as she was hound in. We passed 
 through and by innumerable bales and boxes during the day, 
 some of which we perceived contained shoes, which caused 
 a waggish sailor to remark, "Perhaps if we could get and 
 
72 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 put on some of those shoes, we could run faster and catch 
 that fellow.'' Subsequently she proved to be the Tristam 
 Shandy. 
 
 As has been stated, she threw overboard nearly all her 
 cargo, went into Nassau, filled up hurriedly with another 
 cargo and steamed for Wilmington, ran the blockade and 
 got in. In order to have the dark of the moon, she unloaded 
 with great dispatch, and loaded with the usual Confederate 
 cargo and sailed for Nassau. When she got a few miles out- 
 side she was discovered by the U. S. Steamer Pequot, which 
 gave chase. It soon became very dark, and the Peqnot lost 
 sight of her, but continued the chase on the same course as 
 when the blockade-nmner was last seen. In a few minutes a 
 tremendous volume of black smoke from the soft coal came 
 into the faces of the people on board the Pequot, and in a 
 minute afterward she was up with the blockade-runner, and 
 the Tristam Shandy was captured. She 'lad broken down. 
 Her captain stated that the Connecticut had chased her so 
 hard those fifteen hours that the machinery was very much 
 out of order, and that he had not had time to adjust and 
 repair it, as he had to hurry so much to get out of Nassau 
 and XA'^ilmington in order to save the moon and the tides; 
 so the Connecticut was the remote cause of the capture of the 
 Tristam Shandy with her valuable cargo. Both vessel and 
 cargo were adjudged by the Prize Court to be worth $375,000. 
 Added to this was the cargo thrown overboard when chased 
 by the Connecticut, all of which was a great loss to the Con- 
 federacy. 
 
 One Saturday night, off the Western Bar, one of the inlets 
 into "^A''ilmington was an exciting one for blockaders. and 
 for blockade-runners also. There was no time to indulge in 
 Saturday-night songs and revelries, nor to drink to "Sweet- 
 hearts and Wives." 
 
 We knew that blockade-runners were expected. The tides 
 and the state of the moon were favorable for them. The 
 moon went down early. Orders had been given that at that 
 time every vessel should have her anchor up, with steam up, 
 and ready to start. The vessels, four in number, — Connecti- 
 cut. Georgia, Emma, and Buckinghain. — were swinging 
 
INCIDENTS OF THE BLOCKADE, 1861-65 73 
 
 about, and a little steam was being used to keep them in their 
 assigned positions. They were like restless race-horses await- 
 ing the order to "Go." 
 
 The officer of the deck was lying down on his stomach on 
 the hurricane-deck sweeping the horizon with his glass, when 
 he reported that there was something moving upon the water 
 like a blockade-runner. The commander looked, and con- 
 firmed the report. Orders were immediately given to start, 
 and move with full speed. Two shotted guns were fired at 
 her, when she changed her course, stood off under full speed, 
 and was lost sight of. In this move she met with the Georgia, 
 which vessel started after her and drove her off. She was 
 faster than most of our vessels, and in the dark she could soon 
 run out of sight. Continuing in her persistency to enter, the 
 Emma met her and drove her off. But she had no intention 
 of giving it up. She had now stood pretty well over toward 
 Smith's Island, thinking she might get in by running close in 
 along the land. And now for the fourth time she attempted it, 
 when the Buckingham espied her, opened her guns, and drove 
 her off. As we did not see nor hear anything more of her that 
 night, we supposed that she had gone out to sea, to try it per- 
 haps another night, which they frequently did. 
 
 But at daybreak the next morning, behold ! there was the 
 steamer hard and fast ashore. She had been forced off and 
 shoved over so many times that she was nearer the land than 
 she calculr.ted. nr,d h^d run badlv ashore. Attempts were made 
 by our vessels to get her off. but it was found impossible. A 
 gale of wind came on a few days later and broke the vessel to 
 pieces. She was found to be the noted English blockade- 
 runner Herald. The officers and crew had left in their boats, 
 and landed on Smith's Island in the dark of the night. 
 
 This steamer had been running between Bermuda and 
 Charleston, had made ten or twelve successful trips, and had 
 paid for herself several times over. She had now changed 
 her blockade-running route to between Nassau and Wilming- 
 ton, which proved bad luck to her, as she was wrecked on this, 
 her first trip. 
 
 And now came up the question of law versus common 
 sense. 
 
74 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 The Connecticut had captured a schooner laden with salt, a 
 cargo not worth more than three or four hundred dollars. By 
 throwing the salt overboard, live or six thousand dollars worth 
 of valuable goods could be taken from the Herald and put on 
 board of the schooner, which was done. This would naturally 
 be deemed common sense. But the law says that "No person 
 in the navy shall take out of a prize any goods before the 
 same shall be adjudged lawful prize by a competent court." 
 
 This proceeding was duly reported to the Navy Depart- 
 ment, but nothing was ever said in the way of approval or 
 disapproval of the matter. 
 
 The chief engineer of the Connecticut was a zealous, patri- 
 otic man, and was well up to his duties in every particular. In 
 the hard fifteen-hour chase after the Tristam Shandy it oc- 
 curred to the captain to step down into the boiler and engine 
 rooms to look things over. On reaching there, the chief 
 engineer remarked : "Captain, these boilers have now been 
 run for many months in chasing blockade-runners, and they 
 are getting tender. They are under a heavy strain to-day, 
 and I advise you to keep on deck." The captain replied that 
 if there was danger, he did not know why he should not share 
 it with the engineer. "But," said the engineer, "your post of 
 duty is on deck, and mine is here. I shipped for this, and if 
 the boilers go, it is my privilege and my duty to stick to and 
 go with them." Upon reflection, and deeming "discretion the 
 better part of valor," the captain left and went on deck. The 
 boilers stood it, however. Here was a brave, typical engineer, 
 of which the service can boast many. 
 
 Love and matrimony once came in as an incident in the 
 course of this blockade service. Seaports might be blockaded, 
 but loving hearts never, though hard-hearted parents some- 
 times attempt it. 
 
 When the Greyhound was captured — vessel and cargo ad- 
 judged by the Prize Court to be worth about half a million of 
 dollars — among the passengers on board was the noted Belle 
 Boyd, who had been a prisoner before, in the war, in the hands 
 of General Butler, between whom and herself there had been 
 a considerable amount of "unpleasantness," which had made 
 
INCIDENTS OF THE BLOCKADE, 1861-65 75 
 
 her somewhat famous by her general conduct, with her speeches 
 and pertness. 
 
 The Greyhound was taken to Boston, and, after having been 
 adjudged lawful prize and condemned, Belle Boyd and the 
 other passengers, the officers and crew, were all released and 
 permitted to go where they pleased. From Boston they went 
 to Halifax, and thence to England. 
 
 The prize-master of the Greyhound was a young volunteer 
 officer with the rank of acting-master in the United States 
 Navy — rather a good-looking fellow. It seems that while on 
 board of the Greyhound together, he and Belle Boyd became 
 greatly interested in each other, which interest ripened into 
 friendship. After they separated at Boston, a fervent corres- 
 pondence sprung up and was continued between them, and 
 they became engaged. She fascinated the prize-master to that 
 degree that he turned traitor. He resigned from the Federal 
 Navy, proceeded to England, and they were married in Liver- 
 pool, he, from that time, espousing the cause of, and fighting 
 for, the South. 
 
 Subsequently she wrote an interesting book of her life and 
 adventures, in which she gives a graphic account of all the 
 incidents relating to her courtship and marriage. Her career 
 was certainly full of the most eventful, romantic, even heroic, 
 features ; a career which showed that hearts could be captured 
 as well as blockade-runners. 
 
 It may not be generally known, or it may have been for- 
 gotten by some, that Belle Boyd was the daughter of General 
 Boyd, of the Confederate Army, who died while a prisoner of 
 the Federal forces. He possessed vast estates in Virginia, 
 early embraced the cause of Southern independence, and was 
 soon entrusted with a general's command. His daughter Belle 
 enthusiastically embraced the same cause, followed her father 
 to the field and accompanied him throughout his campaign, 
 and on two occasions heroically, as a modern Joan of Arc, led 
 on the troops to battle. She was, however, in a skirmish, cap- 
 tured and made prisoner for thirteen months, when she was 
 exchanged for General Cochrane, who had been made prisoner 
 by the Confederates. 
 
76 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 Loud and frequent complaints were made by the public, dur- 
 ing the war, of what they termed "inefficiency of the blockade." 
 caused by the frequent running in and out of vessels. 
 
 The Hon. Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy, in his 
 annual report in December, 1865, ^ few months after the war 
 had ended, stated that the following number and class of 
 vessels had been captured or destroyed during the war in 
 attempting to run the blockade, viz., steamers, 295; sailing 
 ships, barks, and brigs, 44; and schooners, 683, making a total 
 of 1022 vessels. The amount adjudicated by the courts for 
 prizes captured and brought in was $24,500,000. 
 
 The estimated amounts for those run ashore, burnt, and de- 
 stroyed was $7,000,000, making a total of $31,500,000 — a 
 pretty good showing, I should say. 
 
 It certainly hurt and weakened the enemy badly. It cut off 
 numerous and necessary supplies, and it lost them the revenue 
 from their cotton, tobacco, and turpentine, and in short, it did 
 much to bring the war to a close. 
 
A CONFEDERATE'S EARLY EXPERIENCE IN THE 
 
 WAR 
 
 By A. W. Dean, Co. E, 29TH Regiment, Virginia Troops, 
 
 C. S. A. 
 
 Amid the blowing of the bugle and the beating of the drums 
 on September 3, 1861, I donned my gray and bade mother 
 farewell, and with sobs and tears started to meet the invading 
 army that was coming to overrun the Southland. My place 
 of destination was Abingdon, Va. I was some two days 
 getting there. I joined Co. E, which made part of the 29th 
 Regiment, Virginia Troops. We drilled our regiment with 
 guns made of wood. 
 
 About December 20th our regiment was furnished guns, 
 and we were ordered to join General Humphrev Marshall's 
 brigade, composed of the 5th Kentucky, 54th Virginia, and 
 29th Virginia. After the brigade was formed, we moved 
 across Pond Gap and were paid ofif, and ihe boys had a fine 
 time playing seven-up and drinking applejaci:. We then moved 
 on through the mud. The weather was very cold, but as 
 Christmas came on, and some of the boys found some apple- 
 jack, we forgot the cold. We went down to Kentucky, as far 
 as Prestonsburg, and there heard that the enemy was near. 
 We were by this time out of provisions, and so returned to 
 Virginia, all joining in that good old song, "Carry me back. 
 O carry me back to old Virginia," once more. One night we 
 camped in an old field, and as it was raining we burned rails 
 all night. Some cows from a nearby pasture came around 
 our camp late in the night, and licked one of my mess in the 
 face. He thought the Yankees had him and yelled so that he 
 woke the whole camp. After everything became quiet one 
 of the cows came back again, but someone was on the watch 
 
 77 
 
78 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 and threw a lot of hot coals on her back. She hoisted her tail, 
 gave a bellow and started through camp with all the cattle 
 after her. War being new to us, the boys thought the Yankee 
 cavalry was charging them, and the whole camp was in an 
 uproar for some time. However, it was but a few days after 
 this that the realities of war were upon us. 
 
 In a few days we met Colonel Garfield, later President of 
 the United States, at Middle Creek. He commanded a brigade 
 of Ohio and Kentucky troops. In the engagement that fol- 
 lowed, sometimes we would hold the field and sometimes the 
 Yankees would. Each side would charge and drive its oppo- 
 nents back, this being kept up until darkness came on and put 
 a stop to hostilities. 
 
 Each side claimed the victory. At night we drew oflF our 
 force and fell back toward Pond Gap, marching all night; 
 all the next day we lay on top of the mountain keeping a 
 lookout for the enemy that we expected would follow. We 
 saw nothing of them, and the next day we continued to fall 
 back. The next day, our bread ration giving out, a detail 
 was made to go across the mountain. I was on the detail, and 
 as the road was too rough for a wagon, we rode horses. When 
 we returned at night the boys were parching corn for supper. 
 Next day we returned to Pond Gap. The roads were muddy, 
 and we could scarcely move our wagon train. After getting 
 near Pond Gap, we learned the Yankees had retreated down 
 the valley, so we fell back to Russell Court House and went 
 into camp. Report soon came that the Yankees were advanc- 
 ing through Pond Gap, so we moved out to meet them. It 
 proved, however, to be a false alarm. We then undertook to 
 cross a mountain stream, but the rains had so swollen it that 
 it washed all our company baggage away, and also a wagon or 
 two, and the drivers narrowly escaped drowning. 
 
 \\''hen my time was up I re-enlisted and spent some time in . 
 drilling. We were ordered back to Kentucky, but the boys 
 not liking the reception they got there, we went reluctantly. 
 Johnston had gone through Cumberland Gap, and we went to 
 Lexington. At Richmond we had some hard fighting. We 
 met General Rosecrans, and we had no "walk over" with him. 
 Soon after this we returned to our original camp at Abingdon. 
 
A CONFEDERATE'S EARLY EXPERIENCE 79 
 
 but soon were ordered to join Lee's forces at Richmond. 
 While the fighting in Lee's army was more severe, I had now 
 grown used to hardships and was better prepared. The first 
 of a man's war Hfe is Hke a boy's first experience in love, — 
 he will never forget it. 
 
THE BATTLE OF MARK'S MILLS 
 
 By William Jasper Young, Private, 36TH Iowa Infantry 
 
 Volunteers* 
 
 The story of the battle of Mark's Mills covers one of the 
 most trying times of the 36th Iowa Volunteers. From a 
 journal of my brother. Sergeant Josiah T. Young, I quote the 
 following : "We marched for an hour on that Monday morn- 
 ing; the 43d Indiana in front, the 36th Iowa following next 
 in order, and the 77th Ohio bringing up the rear. Much of the 
 road was nothing but swamp and nearly impassable. Finally, 
 our lines began to form on solid ground. At about nine o'clock 
 some scouts came riding by. Some of the men asked them if 
 they had seen any rebels out there. They answered 'Yes.' 
 'How many are there ?' was asked. 'Anywhere from six thou- 
 sand to nine thousand,' was the answer. 
 
 "Our men laughed at the statement and did not believe It to 
 be true. A halt was ordered and the regiment 'rested in place' 
 for some fifteen minutes, when firing began in front and the 
 43d Indiana were soon hotly engaged. Presently we began to 
 hear the commands of the rebel officers in charge of moving 
 lines in front of our regiment. The enemy came on with 
 steady steps, some eight lines deep. All at once a line of fire 
 along our front disclosed the presence of the enemy and their 
 strength. Our men returned the fire in earnest, without wait- 
 ing for the word of command. The battle raged for several 
 hours with great fury. Lieutenant Colonel F. M. Drake 
 (afterward Governor of Iowa) was in command of the brigade 
 and was in the thickest of the fight, until he was shot from 
 his horse, receiving a very severe wound in one of his lower 
 
 *Now a Doctor of Divinity and a missionary near Washington, D. C. 
 
 80 
 
THE RESUT.T OF. MARK'S MIL!. 8i 
 
 limbs, the thigh bone being broken and shattered ; his chance 
 for recovery seemed poor indeed. A break in the enemy's 
 lines was effected by a charge led by Comrade Hager, a private 
 in Company K of our regiment, but shortly after this charge, 
 a fresh rebel line came on and we were scattered and driven 
 back from the ground so lately passed. Our boys fell every- 
 where. It seemed impossible to find a way out, or of retreat. 
 Many took temporary shelter behind trees. A hewn log cabin 
 served as a cover from the tempest of leaden hail. A battery 
 of four guns was taken from us and at length, when further 
 resistance seemed impossible, our men surrendered in squads." 
 
 When the commander, Colonel Drake, was taken from his 
 horse, he was carried into the log cabin mentioned in my 
 brother's diary, and I, then a youth of eighteen years, fol- 
 lowed into the rude structure, thinking to be of some assist- 
 ance. Placing my gun in a corner, I tied a white handkerchief 
 around my arm and went to work bringing water to wash the 
 wounds, and trving to relieve the suffering of the wounded 
 men who were being brought in from the field. 
 
 When the commander of the victorious rebel army came in 
 to greet his fallen foe. they passed me by, as they thought T 
 was a member of the ambulance corps. I saw the rebel Gen- 
 eral Fagin as he came in search of the wounded officer, and 
 as I was the only person about at the time, he inquired of me 
 where he might find Colonel Drake. I pointed to the place on 
 the floor where he lay and he went up to speak to him. I 
 remember yet the tall Southern general, dressed in full uni- 
 form, of Confederate gray, his long hair slightly curling over 
 his shoulders, as was the fashion of the time. He drew off 
 his gauntlet glove, and taking the hand of the suffering Drake, 
 asked him how many men he had with him. Colonel Diake 
 declined to answer this, asking the General to excuse him, 
 which he did with great politeness, saying that the Colonel was 
 perfectly right in refusing to answer. 
 
 After Colonel Drake was taken to the hospital for more 
 skillful treatment, I was left on the battlefield to help bury the 
 dead and take care of the wounded and the sick. All the rest 
 of that day I spent with the physicians picking up the wounded 
 men on the field and taking them to the hospital. And all 
 
S2 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 night long I waited upon the poor d3Mng soldiers. For nearly 
 two months I was kept from the rest of the company and it was 
 not until July 6th that Robert Turner and myself reached 
 camp at Tyler, Tex., in a squad of 175 prisoners from Steele's 
 command, via Camden, Ark. This prison was an open stock- 
 ade, and the prisoners were allowed to build cabins for them- 
 selves, cutting the logs from the timber that surrounded the 
 camp. I helped to build a cabin of three compartments, in 
 which I stayed during the ten months of our prison life. 
 
A STRANGE COINCIDENCE OF THE CIVIL WAR 
 
 By George I. Buxton, 83D New York Volunteer 
 Infantry 
 
 During my entire service in the field with my regiment, the 
 only Connecticut regim.ent that 1 ever came in close contact 
 with was the 5th, the first commander of v.'hich was Colonel 
 Orris S. Ferry, who later was made a brigadier general, and, 
 after the war, became a United States Senator from Connecti- 
 cut, still holding that office at the time of hij death. Co. E of 
 Colonel Ferry's regiment was largely composed of Norwalk 
 boys from eighteen to twenty years of age. the greater number 
 of whom were old childhood friends and schoolmates of mine, 
 and among them was Oliver S. Brady. 
 
 During the early part of the war my regiment and the 5th 
 Connecticut belonged to the same army corps, and at times 
 were encamped so conveniently near to each other that we 
 Norwalk boys easily exchanged visits. Later on, however, 
 our regiments drifted apart for a time, the 5th Connecticut 
 going over with General Banks' corps into the Shenandoah 
 Valley, and the 9th New York (before my regiment was made 
 the 83d it was known as the 9th New York State Militia) to 
 eastern Virginia under General McDowell ; but we came in 
 touch again at the battle of Cedar Mountain, which was fought 
 on August 9, 1862. On the morning of that day the corps to 
 which my regiment belonged was in advance of General Banks' 
 corps, embracing the 5th Connecticut, but, for some reason to 
 us unknown, the command of General Banks marched ahead of 
 us, to fight what, at that date, vv-as one of ihe notable battles 
 of the war, while we were held in reserve, expecting at every 
 moment after the battle opened also to be ordered to the front, 
 only a few miles away, where, on Cedar Mountain, we could 
 
 83 
 
84 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 see the battle smoke and hear the crash of artillery and the 
 rattle of musketry. Our expectations, however, were not 
 realized until the fight had been raging for some hours, when 
 we were finally sent to the scene of action, which we reached 
 after nightfall, being soon after ordered to support one of our 
 batteries detailed to silence one of the enemy's which had 
 found our range and was doing us considerable damage. We 
 accomplished our purpose very quickly, owing, as it was ru- 
 mored, to the fact that our guns had been sighted by General 
 Hartsuff, an old artillery ofticer of the regular army, in com- 
 mand of our brigade. This incident ended the battle for the 
 night, our only casualties having been one killed and two or 
 three wounded. 
 
 The next day, August loth, the enemy fell back to the 
 mountain side, leaving unoccupied the field between the lines, 
 which gave us an opportunity to inquire how my friends in the 
 5th Connecticut had fared in the fight. To my great regret, 
 I learned that Co. E had lost in killed, wounded, and captured 
 a large percentage of its entire number, Captain Chinery hav- 
 ing been captured. Corporal Oliver S. Brady killed. Sergeant 
 Ambler wounded and captured, and so on through the list. 
 Brady's body was reported as not found. The following day, 
 August nth, all firing ceased and a truce was had to bring in 
 the wounded and to bury the dead. On August 12th, although 
 the heat was intense, as it had been for several days past, I 
 walked out to the battlefield on a tour of inspection. I found 
 almost unbearable the stench from the rapidly decomposing 
 carcasses of horses with which the field was literally dotted. 
 
 And now comes the incident which has prompted this nar- 
 rative. In a grove were many broken branches and much 
 trampled undergrowth, together with scattered fragments of 
 haversacks and other accouterments. These told the story of 
 a severe struggle. Near a newly filled burial trench I picked 
 up the first sheet of a letter headed "Norwalk, Conn.," and 
 opening with "Friend Oliver." I immediately assumed that 
 this sheet was part of a letter which had been received in camp 
 bv my old schoolmate, Oliver Brady, who had been reported 
 killed in action. I was much moved by the coincidence, for I 
 thought it exceeding strange that I, a member of another regi- 
 
STRANGE COINCIDENCE OF CIVIL WAR 85 
 
 ment and army corps, three days after the battle, should be 
 the one of the many thousands of that large army fated to 
 pick up and recognize the scrap of paper I had found. While 
 thus impressed, I observed close at hand the body of a man, 
 swollen by the heat so as to make identification practically 
 impossible, and as black as the blackest negro I had ever seen. 
 I was surprised that the body had not been buried, because, 
 so far as I had observed, it was the only human corpse un- 
 buried upon the entire field. At that time it never entered my 
 mind that the body might be that of a white man, although I 
 wondered how a colored man could have happened to be killed 
 in that locality, as, at that date, there were no colored soldiers 
 in the Union Army. I concluded, however, that the man had 
 been an officer's servant, who, by some circumstance, had been 
 drawn within the line of fire. 
 
 I afterward sent this fragment of writing, found as I have 
 narrated, to Oliver Brady's brother in Norwalk; and when I 
 met him after the war he said he knew who wrote the letter 
 and that that scrap of paper was the only thing connected with 
 his brother Oliver's last days which his family had ever re- 
 covered. 
 
 About twenty years later I met on Main Street, Norwalk, 
 the late Monson Hoyt, who was orderly sergeant of the com- 
 pany at the time of the battle; and our conversation turned 
 to that memorable event, whereupon I happened to recall the 
 Brady incident and to remark that it was strange that the body 
 of Oliver Brady was never found. Hoyt replied : "Yes, they 
 did find his body. The burial detail reported to me that they 
 had buried all the bodies on the field except that of Corporal 
 Brady, which had turned so black and was so offensive that 
 they did not want to touch it. I said to them, 'Go back and 
 bury that body and don't come back until you have done so,' 
 and they afterward reported that they had done so." This 
 statement by Monson Hoyt rounded out what I think I have 
 always had good reason to call a strange coincidence. 
 
 It was sufficiently striking that I should have found the 
 letter under the circumstances noted ; but it took the best part 
 of a generation afterward and the accident of recalling the 
 circumstance to Monson Hoyt to bring out the fact that the 
 
86 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 body I saw lying on the battlefield of Cedar Mountain and 
 thought for twenty years was that of a negro, was, in reality, 
 the body of my old schoolmate Oliver Brady; and I had been 
 fated to see it in the brief interval of time between the burial 
 of the other dead and its burial. 
 
A FIGHT AND A ROUT IN VIRGINIA 
 
 By S. C. Franklin, Captain 45TH Virginia Volunteers 
 AND A Ku Klux 
 
 I WENT into the war when I was eighteen years old. After 
 the fight at Cloyd's Farm we were encamped on the banks 
 of that beautiful stream, New River, which makes the Kana- 
 wha that Hows into the Ohio. Just before dayhght, on June ist, 
 the long roll was sounded; tents were struck, and we fell in 
 ranks. We marched to the New River bridge, a mile away, 
 where we waited but a few minutes before Jeff's "Iron Horse" 
 was ready to carry us to Lynchburg ; from there to Charlottes- 
 ville, then through the Blue Ridge to Staunton, in the beautiful 
 Valley of the Shenandoah. At Staunton we were reinforced 
 by General Vaughn's dismounted cavalry from Tennessee, 
 and the 69th North Carolina Regiment of Infantry. In this 
 last regiment were two companies of Choctaw Indians from 
 western North Carolina. That night we camped near Staun- 
 ton, and the next morning we marched toward Winchester, 
 that historic town of battles. At Mount Jackson, a little town 
 on a small stream between Staunton and Winchester, we met 
 General Hunter with a large force, on that famous raid to 
 Lynchburg, and a noted character in his command. General 
 Rutherford B. Hayes, afterward President of the United 
 States. 
 
 Our little army under General W. E. Jones maneuvered all 
 that evening in front of Mount Jackson, but no shots were 
 fired. After sunset we moved back toward Staunton and in 
 the rain went into camp. 
 
 At early dawn we were ordered in ranks and filed off on a 
 road that led us a few miles down the Shenandoah. Just 
 
88 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 before we reached the river we began to meet famiUes with 
 stock, fleeing for safety before Hunter's advancing army. 
 Then orders were given to keep well closed up. 
 
 Just before we began to ford the stream we met wounded 
 cavalrymen going to the rear, and then suddenly there came 
 ringing down the line the command, "Close up! Close up!" 
 By this time we were in the stream, some tw^enty-five yards 
 wide. As I came out of the water and was closing up our 
 ranks, I heard the booming cannon some two miles ahead. 
 Now the command was given, "Quick time!" A mile more 
 and then came the command, "Double quick!," and for a mile 
 we marched under this order, when we came out in an open 
 field. Colonel Brown now halted us and formed us in line of 
 battle, as the enemy's sharpshooters had met ours and were 
 having a lively time. We threw up a few chunks of sod and 
 rails for a small protection. The enemy had pushed our 
 skirmish line back to our battle line. On that skirmish line 
 Captain Branscom, a dear friend of mine, lost his hand; it 
 was shot off by a piece of a shell. Now the battle was on, 
 and shells and Minie balls seemed literally to fill the air. 
 
 One of my men, after shooting a while, said, "Captain, 
 Richmond is gone up ; my gun is choked." In the midst of the 
 fight he took his wrench from his pocket and cleaned the tube, 
 and then said, "Captain, Richmond is now safe again." He 
 was as brave as brave could be, but has long since folded his 
 tent and gone. 
 
 The 36th Virginia was on our left, the 60th on our right, up 
 near the pike. In the evening the enemy shelled the 60th, so 
 they fell back, as if they were going to swing around our regi- 
 ment, but General Jones rallied them and for a while held 
 the ground, but finally had to give way. Brave old General 
 Jones was killed, and in a few moments Colonel Brown of my 
 regiment fell mortally wounded. My first lieutenant followed 
 with a terrible wound, my second lieutenant was shot 
 through the face, and one private was killed and nine were 
 wounded. This was all done very quickly. Half of my regi- 
 ment, including the major who was in command (the lieu- 
 tenant colonel was killed a few weeks before) were captured. 
 
 Our little army of about 5000 was completely routed, fall- 
 
A FIGHT AND A ROUT IN VIRGINIA 89 
 
 ing back up the Valley toward Staunton, and from Staunton 
 to Lynchburg, when General Early, from Richmond, met Gen- 
 eral Hunter and hurled him back from the Valley faster than 
 he came up. I was captured on the field that day with about 
 one thousand others, and was searched and lay on the battle- 
 field that night. The next morning we were taken to Staunton, 
 remaining there three days; we were then marched across the 
 Alleghany and Cheat Mountains, being five days on the march. 
 Our rations were beef slaughtered on the road and broiled on 
 coals of campfires, for we had no cooking utensils. My feet 
 were very tender, and when we stopped at night I did not 
 allow myself to stand till we broke camp in the morning. 
 We camped one night on Greenbrier River, near one of 
 the battlefields on which was fought one of the first battles 
 of the war, — that betv^^een Generals Rosecrans and Lee. Just 
 before we arrived at the railroad at Grafton, Pa., we met a 
 train of wagons with hardtack, and what a relish! I ate 
 hardtack until my jaws were tired out, and went to sleep 
 thinking how delicious they were. Next morning, when I got 
 up, there was a nice young Yankee soldier on guard near the 
 big gate. I approached him and said, "Comrade, will you 
 give me a U. S. postage stamp so I can mail a letter home to 
 my people to let them know I was not killed, but am a prisoner 
 of war?" He kindly gave me one and I handed him a handful 
 of Confederate stamps ; he said to me, "These are no good to 
 me." I replied, "You don't know that. A few days ago I 
 did not think I should need a U. S. stamp." He laughed and 
 took them. I was put in prison and remained until the close 
 of the war; then I returned to a desolated country, shorn of 
 all its stock, lands all run down, slaves freed and the country 
 overrun with bummers and scalawags. But such is war. 
 
SOME EXPERIENCES IN THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 By Warren S. Dungan, Lieutenant Colonel 34TH Iowa 
 Infantry, Ex-Lieutenant Governor of Iowa 
 
 My regiment, as part of the Thirteenth Corps, under the 
 command of Major General McClernand, was ordered up Red 
 River to meet General Banks in his famous retreat from the 
 ill-fated expedition up that river, where he was waiting until 
 his gunboats could be floated at Alexandria. We were sent 
 out almost daily to drive the rebels back. They had become 
 eml)olclened by their success, and were approaching too near 
 the city for our comfort. On one of these expeditions we 
 were marching in two lines of battle over a canefield, which 
 was about a mile in width and flanked on either side by a 
 cypress swamp. The 34th was in the rear line. We were 
 marching upon a rebel battery, and so close to it that most of 
 the shells from it passed over the first line, and the rear line 
 was in the hottest of the fray. I was in command of my regi- 
 ment, some distance in front of our flying colors. I was rid- 
 ing the same gray horse I allude to in relating another incident. 
 A cannon ball from the rebel battery in front was seen by all 
 the members of the regiment, coming directly toward me and 
 my horse. I saw it also, and fortunately so did the horse, for. 
 as it approached, my horse dodged to the left and squatted 
 nearly to the ground ; the ball, passing where he had stood a 
 moment before, struck the ground halfway to the regiment, 
 and bounded through the ranks, doing no other damage than 
 denting Lieutenant Chaney's scabbard and Levi Simon's 
 canteen. 
 
 The following is a strangely romantic incident of mine 
 occurring in the war: In the fall of 1851 I went South and 
 
 90 
 
SOME EXPERIENCES IN THE 'SIXTIES 91 
 
 taught school in Louisiana and Mississippi for three years. In 
 1854 I closed a select school in Panola, Miss., where I had been 
 teaching for two years. In closing this school, hoping to en- 
 courage the young men to high ideals, I made them a speech, 
 commencing wdth the question. What will each of you be 
 twenty years from now ? Without naming anyone, I prophe- 
 sied that most of them would attain high positions in society, 
 and in the political and commercial world. Some w'ould be 
 planters, some lawyers, preachers, statesmen, but one would 
 be a — "sinner." By this time intense feeling was manifested 
 in the countenance of nearly all the boys; they concluded that 
 I w^as identifying each in my own mind. Noticing their excite- 
 ment I made a satisfactory explanation, and explained to them 
 that I had placed the "sinner" before them simply as a warn- 
 ing, and they w^ere all happy. 
 
 Nine years after that time, teacher and pupils met under 
 extraordinary circumstances, such as no one dreamed of when 
 we separated. 
 
 July 4, 1863. General Pemberton surrendered Vicksburg 
 to General Grant. The next day I rode into the city to view 
 the results of the siege. I came to a large group of Con- 
 federate soldiers regaling themselves at a well or cistern. At 
 my request, one of them handed me a cup of water, I asked 
 them if any were from Panola. Miss. One stalwart fellow 
 came forward from the rear of the crowd and said, "I am 
 from Panola." "What is your name?" I asked. He replied, 
 "My name is Nelson." I said, "Yes, your father's name is 
 Garland G. Nelson." "Yes," said he, "but who the devil are 
 you?" I then asked, "Do you not recognize me as your old 
 teacher at Panola?" but he could not. After telling him who 
 I was, he seemed very glad to see me. He treated me as if 
 no war had existed. He said : "Come with me up to our camp, 
 Colonel. We organized a section of the Mississippi Light Ar- 
 tillery from your old students, and w^e took nobody in the 
 company who was not one of your students. We call it Dun- 
 gan's Battery." I went with him, and sure enough I found 
 all the members of that battery my old pupils. I remained 
 with them all the afternoon. The meeting was a joyous one 
 to us all. They felt that the war was practically over, and 
 
92 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 their Captain (Calvin Vance) gave me a letter to mail to 
 friends in Ohio expressing this view. 
 
 When I entered the tent and saw the boys to whom I had 
 made that speech, the thought came to me, "Are all these 'sin- 
 ners'? Are all traitors?" I unhesitatingly said, "No." They 
 had been made to believe that they were fighting for home and 
 freedom, and against a tyrant foe. 
 
 I have been in correspondence with some of them since the 
 war, and have visited some of them, and enjoyed their hospi- 
 tality at their homes in Mississippi. Some of them became 
 bankers, lawyers, and statesmen. I stop here. I have nothing 
 to say about the "sinners." 
 
 On the Atchafaliah, in Louisiana, my regiment was march- 
 ing by the right flank, I being in command, riding, as usual, a 
 light gray horse. The road lay along the edge of timber with 
 open ground between it and the Atchafaliah, behind the levee 
 of which the rebels opened fire. The weeds were so high on 
 the roadside as to screen the men from the sight of the enemy; 
 but my horse made a good mark for these Confederates, and 
 for a few moments it seemed as if I and the horse were the 
 targets for all the Johnnies along that levee. I could hear the 
 bullets zipping over my head in rapid succession. My mind 
 worked with furious speed. My first thought was to dismount 
 and lead my horse. I would then be out of sight and com- 
 paratively safe. My next thought was as to how the men I 
 was commanding would regard such a course. Soon I became 
 quite calm and somewhat philosophical perhaps, saying to my- 
 self, "This is what 5^ou enlisted for, to be killed or to kill. 
 Take your own medicine and be a man." After thus think- 
 ing, I imagined I sat a little straighter in the saddle than 
 before. 
 
 A little in advance, my men could reach a point where they 
 could get an enfilading fire on the enemy, but just before reach- 
 ing this point, some "Mexican Greasers" (mounted Mexican 
 soldiers) acting as Union scouts, came dashing in sight in our 
 front and opened fire on the rebs behind the levee, and their 
 firingr at once ceased. 
 
THE BATTLE OF OAK HILLS— A FIERY BAPTISM 
 
 By J. F. Smith, a Scout in Captain Reif's Company. 
 
 C S. A. 
 
 The Federal forces occupying Springfield, Mo., numbered 
 15,000 well armed, equipped and disciplined men. commanded 
 by Generals Lyons and Siegel. About August 5th General 
 Ben McCullough was in command of the Arkansas and Texas 
 troops, and General Sterling Price of the Missouri troops, 
 numbering in all some 15,000. Of this number many were 
 unarmed. The Confederate forces had advanced from Camp 
 Walker and other points in Missouri to within ten miles of 
 Springfield, and there on Wilson's Creek, at Oak Hills, had 
 taken position, and invited battle. There they remained, 
 awaiting an attack from the enemy. 
 
 On the afternoon of the 9th we received orders to prepare 
 rations to be ready to march at short notice. By sunset the 
 army had broken camp, and was formed in regular marching 
 order for the forward movement. It was then cloudy and 
 threatening, and a rain-storm soon came on, which continued 
 in a downpour for several hours. The Confederates had no 
 cartridge boxes for the protection of their ammunition, and 
 for this and other reasons given out the order for the forward 
 movement was countermanded. The order was for the com- 
 mands to return to the position they had just vacated. 
 
 Captain A. V. Reif's cavalry company, organized in Fayette- 
 ville in May, 1861. having mounted and equipped themselves, 
 had been consigned to General McCullough as scouts and body- 
 guard. At the time of the order countermanding the move of 
 the army was given. Captain Reif with his company was then 
 at General McCullough's headquarters. General McCullough 
 ordered Captain Reif to select twenty-five of his best men. 
 
 93 
 
94 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 mounted and equipped, and have them report to him with one 
 of his h'eutenants, at once. The order was soon executed with 
 Lieutenant Buck Brown in command of the scouts. I was a 
 member of the company, and one of the scouts selected, and I 
 heard the order given by General AlcCullough to Lieutenant 
 Brown. It was for him to go in the direction of Springfield, 
 and ascertain, if possible, the movements of the enemy. 
 
 With a guide we were soon on the move. After being out 
 all night and not having secured any information as to the 
 movements of the enemy, on our return about the dawn of day 
 our attention was attracted by a noise on our right. Lieutenant 
 Brown halted the scouts and he, with four of the first file, 
 went in the direction of the noise, I being one of the four. 
 We rode in the direction indicated some three hundred yards, 
 when we could see the Federal artillery moving in the direc- 
 tion of our army. We returned in haste to where we had left 
 the command. We were then one and a half miles from head- 
 quarters, at which place we arrived within a short time, and I 
 heard Lieutenant Brown make his report, saying, "General 
 McCullough, the enemy is on us." 
 
 General McCullough seemed to give no credence to this 
 report, saying, "You did not go in the proper direction. Re- 
 port to your command." 
 
 As we were leaving headquarters I heard General McCul- 
 lough say to a staff officer, "Tell Woodruff to get ready for 
 action at once." 
 
 When we arrived at our camp the boys were eating break- 
 fast. We informed them the enemy was on us, but they did 
 not believe us. having had so many false alarms. 
 
 Captain Reif ordered the company to mount and fall into 
 line. B}'- this time the enemy's artillery had opened fire, and 
 we v.-ere soon at headquarters, the General being in the saddle 
 giving orders, and couriers and staff officers going in every 
 direction. Woodruff's battery, having taken a strong position 
 upon the arrival of our army on August 5th, had responded to 
 Totten's battery, belching forth deadly charges of grapeshot. 
 Reed's battery and other of our batteries soon joined in the 
 music. The small arms of both sides were ere long to be 
 
THE BATTLE OF OAK HILLS 95 
 
 heard in every direction. Gratiot's Arkansas infantry and 
 Cliurchill's cavalry regiments were first to respond. 
 
 I think the first shot from Totten's guns landed in 
 Churchill's camps, where many of the men were eating break- 
 fast. They were quickly in line with that gallant knight, Col- 
 onel T, J. Churchill, at the head of the column. They soon 
 met and charged the enemy, driving them from every position 
 they endeavored to hold. One of the most successful and 
 desperate charges was made by this splendid regiment. 
 Gratiot's regiment was one of the first to meet the enemy, and 
 for four long hours they held their first position. Three times 
 the enemy at this point were reinforced, but the gallant boys 
 remained steadfast until the enemy had given up the conflict, 
 and the glorious victory was won, the foe having fled in con- 
 fusion. This regiment sustained the heaviest loss of the 
 Arkansas commands, their killed and wounded amounting to 
 something over 300. T remember some of the splendid com- 
 panies of this regiment. There was Captain Bell's company 
 from Fayctteville, and Captain Brown's from Van Buren. 
 Both of these brave and true officers fell, with scores of their 
 brave boys. Another splendid company in this regiment was 
 the Hempstead Riflemen, organized at Washington and com- 
 manded by Captain Gratiot, afterward colonel of the regiment. 
 Ex-Governor Dan W. Jones, now of Little Rock, was, as I 
 remember, a lieutenant of this company. They sustamed 
 heavy loss also. I remember one brave boy of this company 
 who fell on that blood}^ field — Moneain Sims. His brother, 
 Thomas H. Sims, was also a member, and received a se\ere 
 wound at the same time. I recall the soldierly bearing of Col- 
 onel Churchill. It made an indelible impression upon my 
 young mind at the time. The loss sustained by this gallant 
 command was very great. As I remember, it was something 
 like 27:; killed and wounded. 
 
 The Missouri and Texas commands sustained heavv losses, 
 but not so great as the Arkansas commands. This was the 
 greatest victorv, considering the condition of our army, 
 won west of the Mississippi. Half of the Missouri troops 
 were unarmed, the other half armed with squirrel rifles and 
 muzzle-loading shot-guns. Texas and Arkansas troops were 
 
96 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 poorly armed. The enemy was armed with the best of improved 
 guns, well equipped and thoroughly drilled. With all this they 
 were driven from every position, retreating, leaving their dead 
 and wounded on the field. Their gallant leader, General Lyons, 
 with others of their officers, fell in the conflict. The enemy's 
 loss, as I remember, was some 3000 killed and wounded, while 
 the Confederate loss was some 2000 killed and wounded. 
 
 I could not understand, and cannot now, why the officers in 
 command of our army did not pursue and capture the fleeing 
 army, and march on into St. Louis. By so doing we could have 
 held Missouri and saved at least 25,000 good soldiers that were 
 lost to the Confederate Army and went to the enemy. As the 
 enemy were fleeing from the scene of their defeat. Captain Reif, 
 with his company, pursued them, capturing some prisoners. 
 After being out a mile and a half we were overtaken by a courier 
 with orders to return to cur quarters. As we returned, we 
 were brought over the battlefield, and over the bloody hill 
 where fell that brave Federal officer, General Lyons. There, 
 in the midst of his dead and dying soldiers, lay dead the gal- 
 lant steed ridden by Lyons. The sight of those dead and 
 dying soldiers was revolting. The Confederate dead had by 
 this time been all removed. 
 
 The camps occupied by our company for several days were 
 at a large church arbor, and on our arrival we found this arbor 
 transformed into a field hospital. Here another sickening 
 sight, and one that would touch the heart of the most hardened, 
 was to be seen. Limbs were being amputated, wounds being 
 dressed, groans from the wounded to be heard everywhere. 
 This, being our first experience, made it more horrifying, and 
 strong men shed tears. 
 
 After our companv had returned from pursuing the enemy, 
 I bore a message from Captain Reif to General McCullough, 
 saying that he was back at his quarters awaiting orders. Gen- 
 eral McCullough replied, "My compliments to Captain Reif, 
 with thanks for his valuable service; say to him to remain in 
 his quarters until further orders." 
 
 We remained in our quarters the remainder of that day, 
 and until about nine o'clock that evening, at which time we 
 broke camp and moved in the direction of Springfield, and 
 
THE BATTLE OF OAK HILLS 97 
 
 after marching to within two miles of that city, we halted for 
 the remainder of that night. By sunrise we were on the move 
 for Springfield. We marched into town singing "Dixie." 
 Not one of the enemy was to be seen except the wounded 
 and the surgeons. 
 
 I cannot close this sketch without paying tribute to my true 
 captain. A. V. Reif. lie was the bravest of the brave and the 
 truest of the true. I will only mention one of the proofs of 
 his courage. As our army was ad\ancing in the direction of 
 Springfield. Captain Reif and his company, being the advance 
 guard, met the enemy some thirty miles out of Springfield at 
 a place on the main road. — Dugg Spring. — where a consider- 
 able skirmish occurred. During the engagement Captain Reif 
 was cut off from his command by a squad of cavalry. They 
 surrounded him, ordering him to surrender. Instead of obey- 
 ing the order, he opened fire on his would-be captors, killing 
 three of them outright, and made good his escape. The re- 
 mainder of the enemy fled, leaving their dead comrades on the 
 field. ' I 
 
 Another fact not generally known is that this company was 
 the first Arkansas command to meet the enemy west of the 
 Mississippi. 
 
A WOUNDED SOLDIER AND A COPPERHEAD 
 
 SNAKE— A GALLANT ACT OF A 
 WOUNDED FOE 
 
 By a Veteran Officer of the 52D Virginia Infantry 
 
 Thi.-) remarkable story was sent to me by a Confederate soldier of 
 unquestionable veracity. In his letter he says, "It's truth, I know, as have 
 several times heard my old friend and commanding officer, General Lilley, 
 describe the circumstances. . . . The general facts concerning the 
 engagement I witnessed as a participant, as I was acting at the time as 
 a field officer of the 52d Virginia Infantry of the brigade in command of 
 General Lilley, and I made the inquiry of the retreating Tar-heels to learn 
 the reason of their hasty retreat. His reply is given in my sketch, ver- 
 batim. I have signed the article simply as your voucher as to its authen- 
 ticity. ... If you insert it in your book, simply let it be vouched and 
 signed as follows: 'A veteran officer of the 52d Virginia Infantry.' I 
 think that the act of this Federal soldier deserves to be commemorated. 
 I, in my service during the entire war, neither witnessed nor heard of any 
 act performed by man or officer of either army that evidenced more 
 chivalrous generosity nor loftier courage, and for that reason I select this 
 incident as the subject of my sketch." 
 
 The incident is so remarkable, so weird, and the bravery of the Federal 
 soldier so splendid, that the above somewhat lengthy preface to the inci- 
 dent is given. — Editor. 
 
 On August 19, 1864, the Confederate troops commanded 
 by General Jubal A. Early were encamped in the neighborhood 
 of W'inchester, Va. Shortly before that time the movements 
 began which resulted in the concentration of the Federal 
 troui)S, under the command of General Phil Sheridan, which 
 participated in the battle of Winchester, fought on September 
 19. 1864. 
 
 The movements of General Sheridan from Harper's Ferry 
 
 98 
 
A WOUNDED SOLDIER, ETC. 99 
 
 and Martinsburg toward Winchester were characterized by an 
 energy and rapidity of movement which neither the army of 
 Northern Virginia nor detached portions of it, while operating 
 separately, had theretofore experienced in regard to the move- 
 ment of Federal troops. 
 
 On the morning of August 19th cavalry scouts reported a 
 movement of Federal troops along the turnpike from Mar- 
 tinsburg toward Winchester. The Confederate division com- 
 manded by General Ramseur included the North Carolina 
 brigade known as Hoke's brigade in the Confederate service, 
 and the Virginia brigade known as Early's old brigade, then 
 commanded by that brave and gallant officer, Brigadier Gen- 
 eral Robert D. Lilley. This division, on the morning of Au- 
 gust 19, 1864, was encamped between Winchester and the 
 large body of woods situated near Stevenson's depot, about 
 four miles north of Winchester, and on both sides of the turn- 
 pike from Martinsburg to W^inchester. 
 
 Upon learning the report of the cavalry scouts, General 
 Ramseur put the North Carolina brigade and the Virginia 
 brigade into marching order, with the North Carolina brigade 
 in front, and started along the turnpike toward Martinsburg. 
 Judging in accordance with his previous experience in regard 
 to the speed of marching Federal troops. General Ramseur 
 expected he would probably meet the moving Federal troops 
 some ten or twelve miles north of Winchester; but on this 
 occasion, as the North Carolina brigade was marching along 
 the turnpike through the woods near Stevenson's depot, it was 
 vigorously attacked by a Federal force in perfect fighting 
 order. The surprise was complete, and the veteran North 
 Carolinians behaved exactly as brave soldiers usually do, and 
 always ought to do in such circumstances. They got away 
 from them so quickly that it was impossible for the Federal 
 troops to catch them, or do them much harm in any other way. 
 
 General Lilley, upon hearing the first shot in front, formed 
 his brigade in line of battle along the southern edge of the 
 woods to the left on the turnpike, and rode forward into the 
 woods to learn what the matter was. Upon reaching a posi- 
 tion about a hundred yards in front of the $26. Virginia 
 Infantry, which was next to the turnpike, he was struck by a 
 
100 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 cannon shot which tore off his right arm at the shoulder joint, 
 and he fell to the ground on his back, where he lay completely 
 paralyzed and incapable of the slightest movement, as the 
 combined result of the shock and the shot. 
 
 While the General lay thus helpless on his back, a large cop- 
 perhead snake crawled up to him and moved slowly over his 
 face, between his eyes and the end of his nose, and after get- 
 ting across, stopped and curled up, with his head raised in a 
 striking position, only a few inches from the General's face, 
 hissing his threat to insert his venomous fangs in the flesM of 
 the helpless officer. 
 
 As the General lay in this predicament, a party of Federal 
 troops, dismounted cavalry, passed rapidly by in pursuit of 
 the retreating Confederates, and the General called to them 
 to come and kill the snake. The oflicer in command, however, 
 kept on, remarking, *'0h, the poor fellow is delirious." But 
 one of the men turned out of his way and w^ent toward the 
 spot where the General lay ; as soon as he saw the situa- 
 tion, he called to a comrade to come to him quickly, and he 
 crept rapidly and softly to the side of the wounded officer 
 opposite to the snake. He had on the regulation cavalry 
 gloves, which, however, were very inadequate protection 
 against the penetrating fangs and the deadly venom of a cop- 
 perhead ; but, putting the edges of his hands together, he 
 placed them between the gleaming fangs of the snake and 
 General Lilley's face, and held them there until his comrade 
 came up and killed the snake with his saber. The instant the 
 snake was dispatched, the two brave soldiers hurried off to 
 join their comrades in pursuit of the retreating Confederates, 
 and General Lilley was, therefore, unable to learn the name 
 or the regiment and company of his rescuer. 
 
 History records nothing of Bavard. nor of Sir Sidney Smith, 
 more heroic, generous, or chivalrous than the heroism of this 
 unknown private soldier in interposing his own practically 
 defenseless hands between the deadly fangs of the copperhead 
 and the exposed face of his helpless foeman. If this soldier. 
 is still alive, and should ever see this article, he may be glad to 
 learn that the helpless Confederate officer to w-hose relief he 
 so promptly came was as brave and gallant as any man who 
 
A WOUNDED SOLDIER, ETC. loi 
 
 ever buckled on the armor of a soldier, and was as pure and 
 lofty a Christian gentleman as ever put on the armor of God. 
 If this soldier, however, as is more than probable, has "crossed 
 over the river," then the writer feels assured that rescuer and 
 rescued have met in the azure fields beyond the stars, v^'here 
 the redeemed spirits of the true, the brave, the generous and 
 the good, walk in eternal glory. 
 
 The writer was an officer of the 52d Virginia Infantry 
 which was in line along the edge of the woods and next to 
 the turnpike; he heard the firing in front and saw with great 
 surprise the brave old veterans of the North Carolina brigade 
 retreating as the result of what appeared to him such an in- 
 significant engagement. He asked an explanation of the situa- 
 tion of one of the retreating veterans. The answer was char- 
 acteristic and fully explanatory: "Why, they tuk us in end- 
 wise." 
 
 The Virginia bris^ade fell back in good order to avoid a 
 flank attack on its left. The flank attack was checked by a 
 gallant charge made by Vaughan's brigade of Tennessee cav- 
 alry, which charge ended the engagement. 
 
THE CONFEDERATE CAVALRY— AN EPISODE- 
 STIRRING BRAVERY AND DARING 
 
 By Dr. G. H. Tichenor, 2d Tennessee Cavalry, C. S. A. 
 
 I WILL relate one of the most stirring episodes of daring 
 and bravery that occurred in the retreat of our army from 
 Corinth, Miss. Our commissary and ordnance trains were 
 ordered by General Beauregard to Booneville, Miss., there to 
 await the army's arrival. The sick and disabled, numbering 
 about 7000, were all ordered to that point. General Alger and 
 General Grierson. with their two divisions of infantry and 
 cavalry, made a forced march to cut off and capture our ord- 
 nance and commissary supplies. They succeeded in reaching 
 Boonevide, and set fire to all the buildings in their reach, and 
 had applied the torch to one car of the ordnance train. The 
 2d Tennessee Battalion of Cavalry had received orders to pro- 
 ceed to Booneville with all the haste possible. On arriving on 
 the outskirts of the village. Colonel Robert McCullough came 
 dashing up with escort of two of the 2d Missouri Cavalry, and 
 with bated breath he commanded halt. "What command is 
 this?" he asked. "Second Tennessee Cavalry, C. R. Barteau 
 commanding," was the response. "Attention, Cavalry: I want 
 to perform a daring and risky movement," said Colonel Mc- 
 Cullough. "You are my senior," said Colonel Barteau, "take 
 command." "How many men have you?" asked McCullough. 
 "One hundred and twenty-four," replied Barteau. Then Mc- 
 Cullough rapidly commanded : "Right dress. Attention, men. 
 Disobedience to my orders will prove fatal to the command. 
 You must not draw your gun, pistol, nor saber unless ordered. 
 I want you to be perfectly quiet, so )'^ou may hear every com- 
 mand. Cavalry, forward march, gallop!" 
 
 102 
 
THE CONFEDERATE CAVALRY 103 
 
 Inside of fifteen minutes we were within twenty feet of the 
 Federal infantry in double line of battle. We were halted, 
 the order given "Right dress," facing the enemy, looking down 
 into their faces. "Cavalry, about face, march, halt, about 
 face." This command was given about eight times inside of 
 one hundred yards. The Yankees seemed to be paralyzed, not 
 knowing what to do, cursing, and demanding, "What do you 
 want?" By this time our men, who were lined up in the 
 road, prisoners and under guard, discovered our cavalry posi- 
 tion, and they gave a yell that seemed to shake the very 
 ground. Their cheering caused the Federals to believe that 
 our army was swooping down on them, so the command was 
 given in a stentorian voice by a Federal officer to "Retreat, 
 double quick; we are trapped." So, panic-stricken, they began 
 running for dear life. A few sharpshooters, looking back, 
 fired over their shoulders while running, killing George Cald- 
 well, wounding three horses and killing Colonel Barteau's 
 horse. After the infantry had fled, we captured twenty-five 
 Federal cavalrymen with their equipment. 
 
 For bravery and daring this was one of the most thrilling 
 incidents that ever came under my observation during the war. 
 
 Here is another, on the same day. Three men of the com- 
 mand dismounted and crawled to the ordnance car that was 
 set on fire, while the shells were bursting, uncoupled the 
 car with a crowbar, and sent it downward on the grade out 
 of harm's way. Seven thousand of our men recaptured our 
 ordnance and commissary trains with but a loss of one man, 
 three horses and one ordnance car. The depot and several 
 houses were burned before we reached Booneville. Our 
 wounded were cremated in the depot. The Federals refused 
 to let a man take anything, not even the wounded, from the 
 depot. 
 
A THRILLING EXPERIENCE OF A WAR 
 TELEGRAPHER 
 
 By Philip H. Hall, Telegraph Operator, Confederate 
 
 Army 
 
 General Sherman was preparing an extensive expedition 
 for the capture of Vici<sbiirg. and the clearing of the Missis- 
 sippi River of the enemy, as he was pleased to designate us. 
 There was a private telegraph line, built by a planter by the 
 name of Dr. Tebbetts, running from opposite Vicksburg to 
 Lake Providence, La. Telegraphic communication was very 
 scarce, as most of the operators had hied back to their homes 
 on the breaking out of the war. leaving the little line deserted. 
 
 General M. L. Smith, commanding Vicksburg, ordered me 
 from the army, and sent me across the river to operate the 
 line and keep him posted as to the passage of any Federal 
 troop boats down the river. A Mr. Lee S. Daniels, of General 
 Breckinridge's staff, was detailed and ordered to Lake Provi- 
 dence, La., with instruction to advise me immediately of 
 everything happening up the river. I spent many weary 
 nights and days in that lonesome swamp, listening to the 
 myriads of frogs and other "varmints." 
 
 Christmas Kve, 1862, near midnight, I heard the tick of 
 Daniels' familiar call, and on replying he said, "Great God, 
 Phil, eighty-one gunboats and transports have passed here to- 
 night, and as far up the river as the eye can reach they are to 
 be seen. Hurry across the river and tell the news." It was a 
 very stormy night, and the river was very rough. T took my 
 red light — my signal to our troops when crossing the river at 
 night, which they had orders to respect. It was a perilous 
 trip, but if I knew I should lose my life in the effort I could 
 not have been deterred. 
 
 104 
 
A THRILLING EXPERIENCE, ETC. 105 
 
 I succeeded in crossing in safety and hurried to head- 
 quarters with my fateful message. There was a grand ball 
 in progress and Mississippi chivalry and beauty were there. 
 Covered with mud from head to foot, and wet as a drowned 
 rat, I speeded through that crowd of gay revelers up to where 
 the General stood. He looked at me sternly, and demanded 
 my mission. I had jotted down what Daniels had wired me. 
 The General, on reading it. turned pale, and exclaimed at the 
 top of his voice: "This ball is at an end. All non-combatants 
 must leave the city, and all officers and soldiers go at once to 
 their commands." 
 
 No ball ever terminated so abruptly. The General's de- 
 meanor toward me had changed, and he thanked me for my 
 promptness and devotion to dutv. Two or three days after- 
 ward General Sherman, with a large army, landed at Chicka- 
 saw Bayou, a few miles above X'^icksburg, and was opposed 
 by General S. D. Lee, who. through my information, had re- 
 ceiAcd reinforcements. Sherman was badly defeated, losing 
 over a thousand men. He retreated up the river to Memphis, 
 and A^'icksburg had a long rest from Yankee shells, thrown at 
 us by boats below the city, which had come up from New 
 Orleans. I was then ordered to report to General J. B. Ma- 
 gruder, commanding the department of Texas, and was his 
 operator until the close of the war. 
 
AN IRISH LIEUTENANT OF THE OLD SECOND 
 
 DRAGOONS 
 
 By Captain Frederick W. Mitchell, i2TH Illinois Cav- 
 alry, United States Volunteers* 
 
 "During the earlier years of the war, from the summer of 
 '62 to December, '63," said the old veteran, as we lighted our 
 pipes around the campfire, ''our squadron of Illinois Cavalry 
 was attached to the 2d United States Cavalry. 
 
 "The benefit we received from that association in discipline 
 and drill was very great, and even those of our command who 
 then grumbled the most at the frequent severity lived to be 
 very thankful that we had been given the opportunity to profit 
 by it. 
 
 "The 2d was one of the crack cavalry regiments of the 
 Regular Army, and its roster bears the names of many who 
 rose to very high rank in both armies. 
 
 "At the breaking out of the Rebellion, when summoned to 
 the seat of war in Virginia, our regular cavalry regiments 
 were widely scattered throughout the western plains among 
 the Rockies. Although many of the officers of the 2d at once 
 decided to desert the old flag, as an organization the 2d re- 
 mained thoroughly loyal and performed magnificent service on 
 many a hard-fought battlefield. 
 
 "Organized in 1836, with the arbitrary old martinet and 
 strict disciplinarian, David E. Twiggs, as colonel, whose mili- 
 tary career began in 181 2, and with glorious William Harney, 
 whose twenty years' service Avas partly under "Old Zach," as 
 its lieutenant colonel, the history of the 2d is written on 
 
 *This paper, with others in this volume by Captain Mitchell, was read hy him 
 before the Loyal Leg;ion Commandery, Washin^on, D. C. The Captain was 
 my college classmate, and he gave me these excellent stories. — Editor. 
 
 106 
 
AN IRISH LIEUTENANT 107 
 
 *Fame's eternal camping ground' from the early days of the 
 re])iiblic, and the names of its leaders are found on every 
 battle roll, from the days of Osceola to and far beyond the 
 four years of our bloody civil strife. 
 
 "The greater part of its Rebellion service was in the grand 
 old Army of the Potomac, and on its battle-scarred flag are in- 
 scribed the names of Beverly Ford, Gettysburg, Brandy Sta- 
 tion, Todd's Tavern, Trevilian Station, Deep Bottom, Smith- 
 field, Winchester, Front Royal, and Cedar Creek, for always 
 where the shot and shell fell thickest and the fight raged 
 fiercest could be seen the flag and guidons of the brave 2d, 
 which in former years had learned the art of war and laid 
 the foundation of its glory. Owing to the loss of many of 
 its officers in battle, in the winter of '62 and '63, an unusually 
 large number of the non-commissioned officers received their 
 long-deserved promotions, and to a second lieutenant's com- 
 mission, to date from July i, 1862, one Mike Lawless was 
 promoted. Alike was as thorough an Irishman as one would 
 meet in the very center of the Green Isle, and knew but very 
 little outside the duties of his regiment. But he was a typical 
 Irishman, uniting a high regard for duty with an intense 
 loyalty to the Union cause, and withal possessed a whole lot 
 of mother wit. It had taken many years of the hardest kind 
 of drill and discipline for him to win his shoulder straps, and 
 mighty proud was he the first evening he served as officer of 
 the guard, and although there were many years in tlie ranks 
 against twenty-four hours of promotion, he never again recog- 
 nized h's old comrades except from afar, nor forgot the un- 
 crossable line between the shoulder straps and the chevron. 
 
 "With the minimum of education, but yet deeply interested 
 in all scientific research, so far as he was able to comprehend it, 
 Mi'-e wns fond of any kind of experiment that promised results, 
 and were he with us to-day, knowing no fear and reckless of 
 consequences, he would undoubtedly attempt to solve the 
 question of aerial navigation, and, guiding his machine across 
 the river Styx, astonish the inhabitants of Mars, or even the 
 lesser satellites, by his bold entrance into the regions of the 
 unknown, 
 
 "As sergeant, while serving on the plains in the later 50's. 
 
io8 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 desiring ocular proof of the power of gnnpowcler, he told his 
 friend and fellow soldier, Tracey, also somewhat of an in- 
 vestigator in abstruse science, that he believed if he had suffi- 
 cient powder he could blow up hell itself. So he ordered all 
 the condemned cartridges collected and turned over to him, 
 put them in an old messpan, placed another messpan over 
 them and covered the whole with mud. Persuading Tracey 
 to sit upon this, he applied a light to a stick arranged between 
 the two pans, and stood aside to watch the effect. So far as 
 Mike was concerned, the experiment was a complete success, 
 and he was enabled to study the uplifting qualities of gun- 
 powder; but poor Tracey turned numerous somersaults before 
 he alighted, proving that a little learning may be a dangerous 
 thing, and nursed his shattered remains for many weeks in a 
 hospital tent, 
 
 "Riding a spirited horse from camp one day to drill. Mike 
 unexpectedly met a six-mule team. Finding it impossible to 
 pass, Mike struck his snurs deen into the side of his steed and 
 actually lifted him over the leaders, as the driver swung them 
 around. It was quick decision and prompt action, but, un- 
 fortunately, his horse's hind leg was caught by the rein, and, 
 falling, threw Mike heavily to the ground. Without assist- 
 ance he remounted, but his leg was badly shattered, and he 
 rode on the drill-ground with it sticking out from the stirrup. 
 His captain saw him riding down the parade ground in that 
 condition, covered with dirt and several minutes late, and with 
 all the various hot stuff that no one but a regular army officer 
 can manage to corral on such occasion, ordered Mike to ride 
 properly or he would tear off his chevrons and have him re- 
 duced to the ranks. Mike replied. 'Reduce and be damned!' 
 then, turning white as a sheet, he toppled over. Two troopers 
 caught him as he fell, and in a few moments he was subject 
 to none but the surgeon's orders. He said he did not know 
 for some days whether, for swearing at his officer, his head 
 as well as his leg would swing in the balance, but the cap- 
 tain's bark proved worse than his bite. Mike enjoyed his six 
 weeks' rest and told me that one could become accustomed to 
 anything; for he, who could never before sleep upon his back 
 
AN IRISH LIEUTENANT 109 
 
 without horrid dreams, had never been comfortable since in 
 any other position. 
 
 "During his long service Mike had never been in a large 
 city, and knew nothing whatever of the geography of our 
 country, but he had no bad habits, and had been very eco- 
 nomical, so that his promotion found him with many hundreds 
 of dollars to his credit. He applied for, and obtained without 
 difficulty, a ten (lays' leave, his first one for many years, and 
 resplendent in his lieutenant's uniform, and with the bulk of 
 his fortune in his pocket, started for New York. I met him 
 shortly after his return to the front and the recital of some of 
 his adventures was unique, and somewhat exciting. One 
 could imagine that many things might happen to a man of his 
 years, the possessor of more than average mother-wit. land- 
 ing in our largest city, never having been even in a small one, 
 and recogrnizing but two classes of people, the ruler and the 
 ruled. According to his own storv. the first day or two he 
 bowled over a good many who sought his acquaintance too 
 persistently, thinking him an easy mark. Nothing but his 
 readiness, even his eagerness, to resent any fancied insult, 
 combined with his great strength and the fact that his shoulder 
 straps represented the power of the army, could have availed 
 him on more than one occasion. 
 
 "Before starting on his leave he had told us that it had long 
 been his ambition to own a fine gold watch and seal ring, and 
 we had abundantlv cautioned him to avoid the 'cheap John' 
 stores and deal with some responsible firm like Tiffany, Ball, 
 Black & Co., ct al. Possibly forgetting our advice, he entered 
 a jewelry store, presumably on the Bowery, and asked to be 
 shown a watch that could be guaranteed. One ostensibly of 
 good value was handed him. and with an Irishman's impetu- 
 osity he asked if the guarantee was an absolute one, and if the 
 case were solid gold, and would stand the test. Of course 
 Uncle Isaac rubbed his hands, and with great volubility swore 
 by all the prophets and by the beard of Aaron that there never 
 was such a watch and that the owner would be envied by all 
 his brother officers. Mike seated himself in a chair and, tak- 
 ing a bottle of aoid from his vest pocket, poured a few drops 
 
no THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 upon the shining case of the watch and smiled as it turned 
 black. In an instant he was surrounded by a half dozen of 
 the tribe of Jacob, who with imprecations and anathemas 
 threatened him with all sorts of dire punishment, both physi- 
 cal and legal. 
 
 "Mike kept his temper admirably for a while, until one 
 rather burly Israelite laid his hand roughly on his shoulder 
 and said he must hand over $50 or go v/ith him to the station 
 house. Mike shook himself free, grabbed his opponent by the 
 back of the neck and slack of the breeches, and tossed him 
 over the counter, as he had often tossed sacks of grain in a Gov- 
 ernment commissary wagon, then walked out of the store with 
 all the (Hgnity of a general commanding, with never so much 
 as a backward g^lance. Fortunately his course of travel took 
 him toward Tiffany's, noon reaching which place he opened 
 negotiations with a clerk who proved that he held his job 
 becpu'=e he was a judge of a rougli diamond as well as of the 
 real article. Mike retailed his recent episode to an amused 
 audieu'^e. and asked the clerk if he had anv watch that would 
 stand the test. He was given full permission to make his ex- 
 periment, and when the result proved satisfactory on both the 
 watch and a valuable seal ring, handed over a couple of hun- 
 dred dollars in greenbacks and promised to recommend their 
 store to all his brother officers. His new-found friend took 
 him all over the store, and Mike's description of the treasures 
 he was shown that day was almost as rich as the articles them- 
 sel\es. The clerk and he became quite chummy, and under 
 his guiflance Mike saw much of Gotham by daylight and under 
 the gaslight, and told us he 'blew in' another hundred during 
 the next few days for full value received. Many an evening 
 around our campfire we had occasion to laugh at and enjoy 
 dear old Mike's eccentric account of his experiences, not only 
 during that eventful week in the citv, but also during many of 
 his r-revious campaigns on the plains. 
 
 "On June 11 and 12, 1864. the 2d participated in the severe 
 cavalry fight under Sheridan at Trevillian Station, Va., wm- 
 ning acklitional glory and receiving much praise from the Gen- 
 eral commanding. Mike, as I have stated, had always been 
 intensely loyal and had often told us that his highest ambition 
 
AN IRISH LIEUTENANT in 
 
 was to die fighting for Old Glory. He was past master in 
 saber exercise, and, as he had no living kith or kin, had said 
 that he would be entirely happy if in some battle he could have 
 the rare luck of being surrounded by the enemy and using his 
 saber to the last. During the afternoon of the first day's fight 
 his regiment, which had been very actively engaged, was about 
 to be called upon to make a desperate charge against superior 
 numbers. 'This seems to be the chance for which I've been 
 waiting,' he said. He handed watch and ring to the officer, 
 threw off his coat, and said, 'Give my love to the boys who pull 
 through.' and, when the order came, led the charge toward the 
 thickest of the fray. The officer said the first fight was too 
 fast and furious for anyone to do m.ore than look out for him- 
 self, but early in the contest he remembered seeing Mike, a red 
 silk handkerchief tied around his head, which was bleeding 
 from an ugly wound, swinging that terrible right arm as 
 coolly and steadily as if on company drill in the gymnasium, 
 but always pressing ahead and forward, seeking for the spot 
 where the enemy was thickest. 
 
 "That night the burial squad pulled his body, disfigured and 
 cut almost beyond recognition, from under a pile of the dead 
 foes, bearing witness that he had met the death he sought 
 in the manner he had chosen and longed for, and had left the 
 field of glory surrounded by and in company with many of 
 his quondam foes, to rehearse with them the old, old story of 
 the war around the eternal campfires of the living God. Like 
 Lawton, he was a fearless, honest, and absolutely trustworthy 
 soldier, the standard by which he measured all his actions, be- 
 ing 'God and our Country and our Flag !' " 
 
A FALSE ALARM— THE MARCH AND BIVOUAC 
 VERSUS THE BATTLEFIP:LD 
 
 By W. T. Shaw, Co. C, I2Th Texas Cavalry 
 
 At the close of a protracted forced march through sleet and 
 rain, a regiment of Texas cavalry was finally halted at dark, 
 and pitched camp. Without a dry thread of clothing, tired 
 almost to exhaustion, pinched with hunger and shivering with 
 cold, the writer was detailed to take command of ten men and 
 find his way through a dark and unknown forest, locate and 
 guard a point ten miles east, where the highway leading out 
 of the bottom that skirted the Father of Waters furnished a 
 convenient point of access and attack by the enemy's cavalry. 
 Such an attack was anticipated on this very night, and hence 
 this precaution to avoid surprise and disaster. 
 
 After hours of wandering search amid pitch darkness, 
 without any guide, the little party finally located the vul- 
 nerable point. Placing a trusty sentinel on duty, the writer 
 retired with the balance of his men some half a mile to the 
 rear, and established headquarters in a vacant log cabin, with 
 an old-fa':hioned fireplace, near the roadside. Soon a cheer- 
 ful, crackling fire was built, and after partaking of a scant 
 lunch, the work of drying baggage and clothing began. 
 Horses were fed and tied near the cabin, with saddle and 
 bridle ready to mount at a moment's warning. Blankets were 
 finally spread, and the tired soldiers, lying down to rest, were 
 soon wrapped in slumber. 
 
 The writer had remained on watch, when there came the 
 piercing crack of an Enfield ride, and suddenly all was con- 
 fusion. Men roused from profound slumber amid suspense 
 
 112 
 
A FALSE ALARM 113 
 
 and anticipation of dano^er often become panic-stricken and as 
 unmanageable as a drove of Texas cattle in a stampede. 
 
 Such was the condition that pervaded this picket camp a 
 few minutes after the alarm was given. The writer, being 
 awake, was in a condition of composure that enabled him not 
 only to give intelligent command, but view with keen amuse- 
 ment the ludicrous antics of his men. In the excitement of 
 the moment, one man, only partially awakened, landed high 
 and dry in his saddle, with his head turned to the horse's tail, 
 and a comrade, observing his position, yelled out, "You had 
 better change front if you don't want to be shot in the back." 
 Another man, slow in awakening, and about to be bested in 
 the race to mount, took no time to untie his horse, but gave 
 him such a fright that he broke his hitch rope, while the rider 
 scrambled into his saddle as he ran. Finally, when all were 
 mounted and in line, one man was found to be suffering with 
 a bad case of "buck ague," shaking from head to foot, and 
 his teeth chattering in a manner to be heard a hundred yards 
 away. 
 
 Hearing no other gun fire, and seeing no approach of the 
 enemy, the writer, leaving his men in line, went forward to 
 where the sentinel in his lonely beat stood, and found him un- 
 disturbed. He had heard the report, but locating it in the 
 direction opposite to. that of the expected enemy, had given it 
 but little heed. 
 
 We have related this simple war story, not to emphasize the 
 carnage of battle nor the heroism of the soldier, but to illus- 
 trate feeblv to the reader some of the hardships and exposure 
 that so often tried his powders of endurance, even to the extent 
 of overshadowing his fear of danger on the battlefield. It 
 holds also a touch of humor, often present amid the pathos 
 and tragedy of a soldier's experience. 
 
 The writer has participated in skirmishes with the enemy 
 on the scout, marched to meet solid lines of infantry with 
 bayonets drawn, and stood as a protecting wall to batteries 
 amid the roaring shot of cannon. He has even charged to 
 the water's brink, unprotected, a fleet of gunboats under an 
 enfilading fire of shot and shell that left desolation in its path. 
 Yet none of these have left a more indelible impression upon 
 
114 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 his mind than the sufferings endured on that protracted forced 
 march and dreadful night, and the thrilling experience fol- 
 lowing the false alarm in that little picket camp, while guard- 
 ing their command against danger from the exposed Missis- 
 sippi front. 
 
CAPTURED— A PRISONER'S LIFE 
 
 By D. M. Fike, Drummer, Co. K, 117TH Illinois Volun- 
 teers 
 
 In 1862, at the age of fifteen, I enlisted as a drummer in 
 Co. K, 117th Illinois Volunteers, to serve three years, or dur- 
 ing the war. I was captured near Canton, Miss., in 1864, on 
 Sherman's first march from \^icksburg to Meridian, Miss. I 
 was confined in three rebel prisons, as follows : Kahaba, Ala., 
 one month; Andersonville, Ga., nine months ; Salisbury. N. C, 
 two months. I can never forget the day I left my father and 
 mother, standing in the door, watching the departure of their 
 little boy for the war. Talk not to me of the bravery of us 
 who went to the front. I think I know something about what 
 it means to face the cannon's mouth and to hear the whiz of 
 shot and shriek of shell, but it required far more bravery and 
 courage in the hearts of the dear ones who stayed at home — the 
 fathers and mothers and the wi\'es and sisters. There are a few 
 of them left to-day, and they are fighting the battles of that war 
 over again, but the dear ones they gave are dust. 
 
 After the fall of Vicksburg, in July, 1864, we were sent on 
 a march through Mississippi to the town of Meridian. On 
 this march I was captured. I went out with a detail on a 
 foraging expedition about five miles from the picket line. 
 There were eight in our party. After our wagon was loaded, 
 and the m.ule I rode was loaded down with a big sack of corn 
 meal, a ham, and a live goose, we started out of the timber 
 and discovered we were cut off from the picket line by the ist 
 Mississippi Cavalry. Our sergeant said, "Let's get back to 
 the timber, scatter and try to make a flank movement to get 
 back to camp." We had not gone far until we met another 
 
 115 
 
ii6 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 squad of rebels coming from the opposite direction, so, as it 
 seemed we were surrounded, the sergeant said, "Line up. boys, 
 and let's give them the best we've got." One of our party 
 was killecl in our encounter, and my mule was shot in the 
 knee. I came to the conclusion I could run faster than a mule 
 with three legs, so I jumped off, and it was funny to hear that 
 goose sc|uawk and see her flutter to get away from that mule. 
 By this time, the rebs were getting too thick for me, so I lay 
 down behind a log, over which two of the cavalry horses 
 jumped. The rifler of one said, "Throw up your hands and 
 
 surrender, you little 1" They finally rounded us all 
 
 into a s(|uad. One man said, "Let's get a rope and hang these 
 damned Yankees !" Their captain interposed, "No, you must 
 treat them as prisoners." The reply was, "We reckon not; 
 they've killed two of our men." Again the captain said, "I 
 can't help that: you have captured them and you must treat 
 them as prisoners of war." That sounded mighty good to 
 me. Now we were oft for Kahaba. We fared very well at 
 this place, as our troops had not been much in that part of 
 the South. 
 
 T ne\er can forget an old lady by the name of Mrs. Wagner. 
 She was a good friend to us, giving us books to read and 
 bringing us soap and a washboard, so we could wash our 
 clothes. T have often heard her say that she had three sons 
 in the Rebel Army, and did not know but that some day they 
 might be in the same predicament. After the war was over 
 she moved to New York, and I corresponded with her. If 
 any other comrade who was in this prison knows where she 
 is, I shall be thankful if he will let me know. 
 
 About five o'clock one morning, the last of March, 1864, ^ 
 voice from the guard was heard: "Fall in, everybody; you 
 are going to be CKchanged." We knew it to be a lie, for in 
 less than two hours we were on the w^ay to Andersonville. I 
 dare not say much about this hell. The only water we had 
 to drink in this prison came from a small stream that ran 
 through the prison. The rebels were camped on this stream, 
 and all the filth from the men and horses ran into it. 
 
 There were from fifteen to eighteen acres enclosed for our 
 occupation, but as a swam.p took up about four acres we had 
 
CAPTURED— A PRISONER'S LIFE 117 
 
 for tenantable ground twelve or thirteen acres — pretty close 
 quarters for 30,000 men. This swamp was a Hving mass of 
 mag-gots. 
 
 One day in August we heard a rumbling sound in the dis- 
 tance. At first it sounded hke heavy artillery, and the camp 
 was delighted, as they thought Sherman was coming to their 
 rescue. Our hopes soon fell. A great black cloud rose in the 
 north and we coliKI see flashes of lightning followed by dis- 
 tant thunder. The wind blew in frequent gusts, and gave us 
 the first refreshing breeze we had had in two or three months. 
 The lightning became continuous and the heavens seemed 
 ablaze. The clouds moved back and forth with fearful ra- 
 pidity; the earth seemed to shake from the thunder. The 
 rain fell in torrents. Many were frightened, believing that 
 the destruction of the world was at hand. But instead ot de- 
 struction the storm brought a priceless blessing in the way of 
 a large spring of pure water. This burst forth during the 
 night on the north hillside, between the dead-line and the 
 stockade, near the summit of the hill. The water coursed 
 down the hill between the dead-line and the stockade, until it 
 reached the creek. It gushed in such force and volume that 
 it soon formed a channel, which was changed by digging a 
 little trench up to it, near the base of the hill. This had to 
 be done with a long pole, as the rebels would allow no one to 
 approach it over the dead-line. I saw several men shot for 
 reaching under at this spot to get water. This remarkable 
 spring is still running and is called "Providence Spring." 
 People from far and near come to drink from it, believing it 
 to be a special work of God. 
 
 Among the prisoners captured from Butler's command were 
 a good many from Eastern cities, who had enlisted for big 
 bounties, or had been bought for substitutes. They cared for 
 nothing save their own welfare. They formed themselves 
 into an organization, and would go through the camp, rob- 
 bing and even murdering people to steal articles of clothing 
 and rations. This was carried to such an extent that the other 
 prisoners determined it should stop. This band was called 
 the "Raider Crowd." They were arrested and court martialed 
 and punished in various ways. Six of the leaders were sen- 
 
ii8 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 tenced to be hanged on the nth day of July, and a rude scaf- 
 fold was erected in the southwest part of the prison by a sailor 
 known as "Limber Jim." I think his right name is Thomas 
 Goodman, and that he lives at present at Toledo, la. He 
 belonged to the 67th Illinois Infantry. Plis features and form 
 reminded one of a young Indian. "The Regulators" (the 
 name of the band who were determined to stop the lawlessness 
 caused by the "Raiders") were led by "Limber Jim." There 
 were a hundred men on each side. The "Regulators' " best 
 man was Ned Carrigan, corporal in Co. I, of some Illinois 
 regiment and who was from Chicago. Lie had fought in the 
 prize ring and once killed a man in a prize fight near St. Louis. 
 He was a big-hearted, genial Irishman. 
 
 Key was the commander of the "Regulators," and he pro- 
 ceeded with the greatest secrecy in the organization of his 
 forces. He accepted none bnt Western men, and preferred 
 those from Illinois, Iowa, Kansas and Ohio. Key informed 
 Wirz, the commander of the prison, what he proposed doing 
 (the hanging of the men, etc.). Wirz, happening that day 
 to be in fairly good humor, approved of the design and al- 
 lowed him the use of the enclosure of the north side to con- 
 fine his prisoners for trial. Key had fixed on the third day 
 •of July for the attack on the "Raiders." There was little sleep 
 that night. The "Raiders," though confident of success, were 
 none the less alarmed. They threw out pickets to all the ap- 
 proaches to their headquarters and provided in various ways 
 against surprise. Morning came at last, and our men mus- 
 tered on their ground and marched to the space on the north 
 side, each man armed with a small club, secured to his wrist 
 with a string. The sun rose in the blue sky and soon shone 
 down on us like a brazen oven. The whole camp gathered 
 where they could best view the encounter. While standing 
 there waiting to see the "Regulators" attack the "Raiders," my 
 "pal" touched me on the arm and said : "My God, Don. look 
 over there!" I turned and looked in the indicated direction 
 and was astounded to see at least twenty thousand men packed 
 together on the banks, and every eye turned toward the com- 
 ing struggle. When all was ready the word was given. Key, 
 **Limber Jim," Ned Carrigan. Tom Larkins, and Ned John- 
 
CAPTURED— A PRISONER'S LIFE 119 
 
 son led the attack. The prison was as silent as a graveyard ; 
 not a blow was struck until the lines came close together. 
 Then the "Raiders' " center launched itself against the "Regu- 
 lators," and grappled savagely with the leaders. A minute 
 seemed an hour; the struggle was desperate; strong men 
 clinched and strove to throttle each other ; great muscles were 
 strained almost to bursting, and blows with fists and clubs 
 were dealt with all the energy of human hate. In a moment 
 after it was all over. The "Raiders" were captured and im- 
 prisoned. Next came the trial, next the judgment. The trial 
 lasted seven days. It was decided there should be two pun- 
 ishments, according to guilt. One was death by hanging ; the 
 other was to run the gauntlet. This consisted of our men 
 forming in two lines, the prisoners being made to run between 
 them to be kicked, spat upon, and hit with sticks by the 
 men in the lines. Key organized the court. I think a man 
 by the name of Dan McCullough, of the 3d Missouri Cavalry, 
 was president of the court. Six were convicted and sentenced 
 to be hanped, and a large number to run the gauntlet. The 
 condemned men were as follows: John Sarsefield, 144th New 
 York; William Collins, nicknamed "Mosby," Co. D, 88th 
 Pennsylvania : Charles Curtis, Co. A, 50th Rhode Island 
 Artillery; Patrick Delaney, Co. E, 83d Pennsylvania; A. 
 Muir, U. S. Navy; and Terence Sullivan, 72d New York. 
 The scaffold was made ready on July nth, brought in, and 
 erected near the south gate. All being ready, Wirz rode in; 
 behind him walked the old faithful priest. The six doomed 
 men followed, walking between double ranks of rebel guards. 
 Wirz now walked out and left us. One of the doomed men 
 gasped and said : "My God, men. you don't really mean to 
 hang us up there, do )^ou?" "That seems to be about the 
 size of it," said Key. The priest, after reading the service to 
 the condemned men, walked out of the prison. Now all was 
 ready for the hanging. Just then Curtis endeavored to escape 
 through the crowd, but was caught and brought back. The 
 six men walked upon the scaffold, the trap was sprung and 
 the necks of all were broken at the first fall except one — 
 Mosby. The rope encircling his neck broke, and he was taken 
 up the second time and successfully hanged. Each made a 
 
I20 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 short talk as he stood upon the scaffold and confessed his guilt. 
 
 We received word of the fall of Atlanta into Union hands 
 in rather a strange way. The guard on the stockade had 
 beeti accustomed to call out the hours of night and "all is 
 well"; but this nip^ht he called out. "Eleven o'clock and all is 
 well, and Atlanta has gone to hell !" 
 
 In a few days quite a squad of us were ordered to prepare 
 to leave Andersonville for Charleston, S. C. Before I left, 
 I was offered my liberty to go around the outside of the stock- 
 ade, and extra rations, if I would drum for the rebels on the 
 outside for dress parade and drill, but I told them that "I would 
 rather be taken out, toes first." One of our men said, "That's 
 right! Don't do it, even if you have to turn up your toes." 
 
 When we left Andersonville prison the}'- said we were going 
 to be paroled, but instead, we were taken to Charleston, S. C, 
 in cattle cars, and when we were unloaded they told us they 
 were going to put us under fire of our gunboats, at that time 
 bombarding Charleston. Our answer was, "We can stand 
 that if the guards can." They did not do it, however. The 
 next morning we started for Wilmington, N. C, and on ar- 
 riving there our fleet was bombarding the city, so our stav was 
 brief. We now went to Salisbury, N. C, another hell on 
 earth, with about 1200 prisoners. Here I remained two 
 months. One morning, about daylight, two men and I made 
 our escape, but were trailed by bloodhounds, recaptured, and 
 brought back to Salisbury. The ne.xt day an officer came in 
 the prison and cried out, "Fall in!" That same afternoon 
 about a thousand of us were on our way to Wilmington 
 again, to be paroled. No one knows how happy we were, 
 feeling that the end of our prison life was near. At Wil- 
 mington we remained three or four days waiting for trans- 
 portation. At last, when we saw Old Glory, we shouted and 
 cheered, laughed, and cried. We were in a pitiable condition, 
 merely skeletons, scores of us nearly naked. We were bound 
 for Annapolis, and it was my lot to be assigned to a large 
 steamer, the largest boat T had ever seen. When all was 
 ready, a small tug gave a shrill whistle and pulled out down 
 the river, followed by boats in regular order. '1 he line was 
 a straight one, and tlie boats were navigated with great pre- 
 
CAPTURED— A PRISONER'S LIFE 121 
 
 cision, which we were told was necessary to avoid torpedoes. 
 When we were opposite Fort Fisher we cast anchor, and re- 
 mained until morning, when we slowly started for the open 
 sea. We soon knew we were there from the peculiarities inci- 
 dent to sea life. We were ordered below, and the third day a 
 heavy wind struck us, followed by a heavy fog. The latter 
 soon disappeared and the vessel tossed and plunged until I 
 thought I would give the whole ocean for a foot of dry land. 
 Nearing Fortress Monroe the sea calmed, and we reached An- 
 napolis at night. We remained on the vessel until morning, 
 and when we went ashore, we were taken to a row of bath- 
 houses and bathed, then to the hospital, and my pal Andrew 
 and I had beds by each other. At the heads of our berls were 
 little tin boxes, and into each was placed a card in full view. 
 I remember mine. It was thus : 
 
 "No. loi— D. M. Fike, Co. K, 117th Ills. Vol. Inf. 
 
 "March 27, 1865. 
 
 "Diagnosis, — General Debility. 
 
 "Prognosis, Favorable. 
 
 "Diet No. I." 
 
 Andrew and I at once became quite solicitous as to the 
 character of "Diet No. i." After the effect of the seasickness 
 wore off, our appetites were so ravenous that to appease them 
 "No. i'' diet would have to be a mighty good one. Soon a 
 non-commissioned officer passed and was followed by a num- 
 ber of men, each bearing a tray with food thereon. I heard 
 the officer say "Two number ones," and behold, they were for 
 Andrew and me. Before each of us was set a plate, and on 
 each was a bit of meat, two boiled eggs and a couple of rolls. 
 Beside this was a cup of coffee. "Well," said Andrew, "I'd 
 like to know where this thing is going to stop. I'm trying 
 hard to get used to it; wearing a shirt without lice on it. and 
 sitting in a chair, and sleeping in a clean bed is a good deal, 
 but when it comes to having my meals sent to my room, I'm 
 afraid I'll degenerate to a pampered child of luxury." Paus- 
 ing a moment, as if thinking, he said, "Let"s see, Don, how 
 
122 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 lon^ is it since we were sitting in the sand at Andersonville, 
 boiling our half-pint of meal in an old tin can?" I said, "For 
 Heaven's sake, let's try to forget it as soon as possible, for at 
 best we shall always remember too much of it." 
 
 My folks did not even know I was alive until I arrived 
 home, but it was not long before my old schoolmates and 
 friends of my boyhood were at my bedside, but my dear old 
 father and mother were so overcome with joy they could not 
 speak for more than half an hour after I reached the house. 
 
OFFICERS' BLUNDERS— CAPTURE AND RELEASE 
 
 By H. B. Hedge, Private, Independent Co., Ringgold 
 
 Cavalry, United States Volunteers. 
 
 The first fight of any importance we were in was at a place 
 in West Virginia known as Hanging Rocks. We had just 
 crossed a branch of the Potomac River, when we found the 
 road blockaded by a large picket force of the enemy. A large 
 number of this force was upon the hanging rocks over our 
 heads. The road was narrow, and ran alongside the river. 
 Here we were completely caught in a trap. The Colonel, who 
 was in command, became panic-stricken and was silent, iiot 
 giving any command whatever. The result was that infantry 
 and cavalry, horses and wagons, were packed in this narrow 
 defile, and the enemy were over our heads. Instantly there 
 was a rush to go back, and get from under fire. Some of the 
 infantry jumped into the river, intending to swim across, and 
 thus escape. This proved fatal to nearly all who did it. The 
 enemy shot over our heads, thus affording us a chance to 
 escape. Fortunately for subsequent events, the Colonel, realiz- 
 ing his blunder, became conscious that he could not command 
 soldiers, and resigned. The following night we got through 
 the second gap, reached Romney, and captured the town, with 
 a large number of prisoners. 
 
 About a couple of months later fifty men under command 
 of Lieutenant Myers of my company were sent out on the 
 Winchester road, and when we had gone about two miles 
 from the outer picket, and were going through a narrow pass, 
 we were fired on, and more than twelve per cent of our men 
 and horses were killed and wounded. I had a close call. The 
 man just in front of me was killed ; the second in my rear was 
 
 123 
 
124 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 killed, and my horse was shot. Our commander gave us the 
 order to halt, instead of to retreat or go forward. 
 
 A few days afterward — days spent in skirmishing as body- 
 guard for General Shields — in the evening, as we were drawn 
 up in line of battle, the enemy opened on us with artillery. 
 Their first shot struck the two drivers of our artillery, and 
 their bodies were hurled in all directions; the ball now struck 
 the caisson and exploded the ammunition, a piece of shell 
 striking the arm of General Shields, fracturing it. 
 
 About four o'clock one afternoon, we were ordered to aban- 
 don camp and make a forced march in two sections to New 
 Creek, Va. Comrade Holland and I were sent forward about 
 midnight from the second to the first section. About one 
 o'clock, we saw in front of us some lights, where, evidently, 
 the first section had stopped for a short rest, as we thought 
 We went on about three-quarters of a mile farther, when we 
 heard the command to halt. Supposing it to be our men, we 
 at once obeyed. It was but a moment when a man stood hold- 
 ing each of our horses, and a third one held a gun on us, and 
 demanded our surrender. As they seemed to want to do 
 business quickly, we thought best to acquiesce in their demand. 
 They held us till morning and then gave us the choice of go- 
 ing with them till next evening, and then getting paroled, so 
 as to go home on a furlough, or of being released at once 
 without parole. We lied a little, and told them we had just 
 come from home, and did not care to return so soon. They 
 then said they wanted our horses worse than they wanted us, 
 and we were compelled to strike out on foot, but I have always 
 thought ourselves were a good deal more valuable to us than 
 the horses were. I was perfectly satisfied with the trade. 
 
THE BATTLES OF FRANKLIN AND NASHVILLE* 
 
 By Henry M. Kendall, U. S. A. 
 
 The army reached the vicinity of Franklin without serious 
 interruption. A few clashes were made at the wagon train 
 by Forrest's cavalry, but only a few wagons were lost. Scho- 
 field was much worried about the means of crossing the Har- 
 peth at Franklin, as he had destroyed his pontoons at Co- 
 lumbia. Franklin is on the south bank of the Big Harpeth 
 River, which here makes a sharp bend to the north and then 
 west; to the south of the town, and about a thousand yards 
 from its outskirts, is a line of low hills springing from the 
 beginning of the bend and running in a semicircular direction 
 around the town to the river again. This furnished an ex- 
 cellent line of defense, secure on both flanks and, being only 
 about two miles in length, quite suited to occupation by a 
 force like Schofield's. The north bank is much higher than 
 the southern, furnishing favorable positions for flanking artil- 
 lery fire. The great disadvantage consisted in having the 
 stream directly in rear, especially as at this time the county 
 bridge was destroyed and the stream was liable to freshets, 
 which would render it unfordable. The railway enters the 
 town from the south, parallel to the Columbia pike, and less 
 than half a mile from it, crossing the defensive line at its 
 extreme left, then paralleling the river to its next bend, 
 where it crosses on a covered bridge. About half a mile to 
 the right of the Columbia pike the line is crossed by the Car- 
 ter's Creek road, coming in from the southwest and joining 
 
 ♦ Through the kindness of Colonel Tweedale, U. S. A. Recorder of the 
 Commandery of the Loyal Legion, District of Columbia. 
 
 125 
 
126 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 the turnpike about a thousand yards in rear. The line from 
 the river and railroad to the Carter's Creek road formed the 
 real front; its key was the hill to Carter's house on the Co- 
 lumbia River. At this point there was a locust thicket, fur- 
 nishing material for a slight abattis; an osage orange hedge 
 served as an obstruction in front of the left. 
 
 As fast as the troops arrived they threw up a line of earth- 
 works, which soon formed a complete bridge head. In front 
 of the works the ground is quite open, sloping gently down to 
 a broad rolling valley terminating about two miles to the south 
 in a range of high hills. 
 
 General Cox was placed in immediate command of the line, 
 and Schofield, together with Stanley, crossed the river to the 
 north bank, where there was a heavy work called Fort 
 Granger. Schofield had placed two brigades of Wagner's Di- 
 vision of Schofield's Corps in position across the pike about 
 half a mile in front of the main line, with orders to with- 
 draw if Hood showed a disposition to advance in force. One 
 brigade — Opdyke's — was in reserve at Carter's Hill, behind 
 the main line. The other two divisions of the corps occupied 
 the line from the river to the Carter's Creek road. Kimball's 
 Division of Stanley's Corps extended the line west to the 
 river, and Wood's Division was placed north of the stream. 
 All the dispositions were excellent except the advanced posi- 
 tion of Wagner's two brigades, which seemingly were with 
 the desire to force a more distant deployment. The line was 
 ready by three o'clock in the afternoon, and Schofield ordered 
 a general withdrawal to the north bank to begin at six o'clock 
 if Hood did not attack, as he thought probable. In this opinion 
 Stanley concurred, convinced that as Hood had not thought 
 it desirable to attack the similar line at Columbia, much less 
 would he do so against this stronger position with only part 
 of his force. 
 
 But Hood was chagrined at the failure to improve the op- 
 portunity at Spring Hill, and ordered an immediate attack. 
 At three o'clock in the afternoon word was received from 
 Wagner's advance brigades that the enemy was deploying 
 strong lines at the foot of the hills to the south. At the same 
 time Forrest's cavalry was endeavoring to force the crossings 
 
BATTLES OF FRANKLIN AND NASHVILLE 127 
 
 of the river above the town. Fortunately his force was not 
 united but distributed on both flanks, and Wilson's Cavalry- 
 was able by continued dismounted action to drive the Rebels 
 back and hold them to the south bank. 
 
 Mood formed Stewart's Corps to the right of the road, and 
 Cheatham's to the left. The divisions were formed for attack 
 in two and three lines. Lee's Division, only part of which had 
 yet arrived, w^as held in reserve. The artillery had not yet 
 come from Columbia, so Hood was deprived of its use. He 
 states that he ordered that artillery be not used because of the 
 presence of women and children in the town, but the reports 
 plainly show that at least tw^o batteries which had accom- 
 panied the returning column were used. It seems plain then 
 that Schofield's holding on at Columbia deprived Hood of his 
 large artillery strength when most needed. 
 
 About four o'clock Hood's whole line advanced. Wag- 
 ner's brigades did not fall back, as distinctly ordered both by 
 Schofield and Cox, but by Wagner's express orders stood 
 to fight. The first shock of the attack fell on them, and in a 
 few moments being overlapped on both flank and of greatly 
 inferior strength, they were thrown back in utter disorder on 
 the center of the main line, immediately followed by the 
 enemy. The disorderly mass swarmed over the parapets, car- 
 rying the line with them and opening a gap nearly two hun- 
 dred yards in length at the very key of the Union position. 
 Fortunately Updyke's brigade and the other reserves in the 
 immediate vicinity, rushed promptly into the breach and suc- 
 ceeded in repelling the Rebel advance, recovering the line 
 throughout all but a very small portion of its length. The 
 construction of the line had been most excellent, there being 
 two salients close to the pike from which the enemy could be 
 effectively taken in flank. The remainder of the line had suc- 
 cessfully withstood the attack, the concentrated nature and 
 speed of which had resulted in great intermingling and dis- 
 order in both Cheatham's and Stewart's Corps. To add to 
 this a number of general officers had been killed or wounded 
 during the first attack. The successive Rebel lines attacked, 
 and being repulsed, were partially reformed and returned to 
 the attack again, which lasted until after dark. The reserve 
 
128 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 division of Lee's Corps was pushed into the fight at dark, but 
 was repulsed. The remaining two divisions did not arrive 
 until it was too late to become engaged. 
 
 During the night Schofield withdrew his whole force and 
 retired to within the lines at Nashville. The Union losses in 
 the battle were i8g killed. 1033 wounded and 1104 missing, a 
 total of 2326. The Rebel losses are not definitely known — 
 their reports being made up about ten days later to include the 
 entire campaign up to that time. At that time the total loss is 
 placed at 7547, of which about 6300 seems to be acknowledged 
 as occurring at Franklin. 
 
 The outcome of the battle certainly shows that Hood erred 
 in attacking as he did, after time had been allowed the Union 
 force to entrench. 
 
 Hood's narrative and report offer as reasons for this attack, 
 that he had learned from captured dispatches that it was 
 Thomas' desire to hold Franklin, and that Schofield had been 
 instructed to make his position strong. It was too close to 
 Nashx'ille to permit another turning movement, and he 
 thought his best chance was to make a prompt attack before 
 Schofield had been given time to strengthen greatly his posi- 
 tion. Joe Johnston criticises the attack as "the useless butchery 
 at Franklin." Beauregard refers to the "great loss and waste 
 of life." This much is plain — that it resulted in such serious 
 loss to Hood as to unfit his army for further opposition to 
 Thomas' main force, and in no material advantage whatever. 
 
 Up to this period the active portion of the campaign con- 
 sisted entirely in the use of Schofield's 24.000 men as delaying 
 force against Hood's army of about 54,000. Lieutenant Gen- 
 eral '^chofield. in his "Forty-six ^'ears in the Army," pp. 165 
 to f88. has ma('e a reliable, valuable and interesting statement 
 following the battle of Franklin. 
 
 In the meantime Smith's Corps had begun to arrive on No- 
 venilier 30th, and Thomas had been busily at work organizing 
 a forward movement from Nashville. On December ist Scho- 
 field's force arri\-ed from Franklin and Steedman with al)out 
 5200 men from Chattanooga. Most of Granger's force and 
 Milrov's from Tullahoma were drawn in to Murfreesboro, 
 thus giving at that place about 9000 men under General Rous- 
 
BATTLES OF FRANKLIN AND NASHVILLE 129 
 
 scan. Hood began to take up a position in front of Nash- 
 ville on December 3d, and detached Bates' division of Cheat- 
 ham's Corps to destroy the railroad between Nashville and 
 Murfreesboro. Forrest was also directed to co-operate with 
 Bates. After a few skirmishes, resulting in the breakmg up 
 of communication between Murfreesboro and Nashville. For- 
 rest united with Bates on the 5th, and on the 6th apj^eare^l in 
 front of the town, receiving there a reinforcement of two bri- 
 gades of infantry. The ensuing skirmishes resulted in about 
 equal losses, and Forrest never made a decided attempt to 
 attack the defenses, preferring the more sensible method of 
 trying to entice the garrison out of the works. Bates' division 
 was recalled to the front of Nashville, out of touch with the 
 rest of Hood's forces. 
 
 Hood's line was to the south and east of Nashville, ap- 
 proaching the Union works to within about 600 yards near 
 the left, then was drawn back along a stone wall at the side 
 of the turnpike to Hillsboro. Lee's Corps was placed in the 
 center across the Franklin pike; Cheatham's on the right and 
 Stewart's on the left. The cavalry was placed in the gap be- 
 tween the left and the river. The force was too much ex- 
 tended and without a general reserve. A number of detached 
 works were constructed to support the left tlank. In front of 
 the main line was a light advanced line extending through the 
 greater part of the front. The LTnion works consisted of an 
 outer line extending from the river above the town, southwest 
 to within a short distance of the Hillsboro pike. Thence it 
 ran northwesterly, sweeping around in an easy curve to the 
 river below the town. An inner line ran from about the 
 center of the east face of the main line in a generally north- 
 easterly direction to the river. Hood's left was nearly oppo- 
 site the salient of the main line. 
 
 Wilson's cavalry was placed at Edgefield on the north bank 
 of the river. Steedman's force was at the extreme left, then 
 Schofield's Corps, then the Fourth Corps (now commanded 
 by Wood), and finally Smith's Corps on the right. The inner 
 line was manned bv the quartermaster's emT)loyees and a di- 
 vision of convalescents and men returning from furloneh 
 
 As soon as Hood arrived in front of Nashville pressure be- 
 
130 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 gan to be brought on Thoir^as from Grant, the President and 
 Secretary of War, urging him to leave his defenses and attack 
 Hood, Tliomas wanted a few more days to mount his cav- 
 alry and delayed attacking. On December 8th, when he was 
 about ready, there began a freezing storm, which alternated 
 rain and frost for several days, covering the ground with a 
 sheet of ice and making movement entirely impracticable. 
 The pressure continued on Thomas and went so far that an 
 order was issued for him to turn the command over to Scho- 
 field, A council of corps commanders was held and was 
 unanimously of opinion that it was not practicable to move. 
 On the 13th Logan was ordered to Nashville to relieve 
 Thomas, but before he reached there the battle had been 
 fought. 
 
 Thomas' original plan was to demonstrate against Hood's 
 right with Schofield's Corps and, swinging around his own 
 right, roll up Hood's left, cutting him off from Franklin and 
 driving him to the seat or capturing him. It soon appeared 
 that Hood was extending his line to the right or perhaps mov- 
 ing under cover to his right as though to get into close touch 
 with Forrest. This caused Thomas to weaken his left and 
 employ Schofield's Corps to give weight to the main attack. 
 This plan, being agreed upon, was to be carried out as soon 
 as the condition of the ground permitted. On the 14th there 
 came a warm rain and thaw and the attack was ordered for 
 the next day. 
 
 The morning of the 15th was very foggy, thus hiding the 
 movements of Thomas' army, but also retarding them. The 
 ground was very muddy, and the time required for the move- 
 ment of Smith's Corps was much greater than had been ex- 
 pected, Steedman was to make a strong demonstration on 
 the left with his two brigades. Wood's and Smith's Corps, 
 from a line in prolongation of the east face of the works, were 
 to deliver the main attack on Hood's center and left. Scho- 
 field's Corps was to be held in reserve in rear of Wood's Corps 
 and designed to strengthen the right or resist counter attack, 
 were Hood to repeat the tactics of Stone River. Wilson's 
 cavalry was to clear the roads and move on Smith's right. 
 The interior line of works was to be held by the garrison. 
 
BATTLES OF FRANKLIN AND NASHVILLE 131 
 
 Steedman's demonstration began about six o'clock in the 
 morning and became rather more of an attack than was in- 
 tended. The delay of Smith's march resulted in holding Wil- 
 son within the lines until about ten o'clock, there being no 
 road open for him. Wilson advanced with three columns and 
 a reserve, sweeping the country in front of and beyond the 
 right. The swinging movement of Smith's and Wood's Corps 
 was steadily made, driving in the Rebel advance line. The 
 dismounted cavalry and right of Smith's Corps captured the 
 detached works on Hood's left. Schofield's Corps now ex- 
 tended the right, and the attack was directed against tlie left 
 of Hood's line, driving it back just as darkness was falling. 
 Wood's advance had also been greatly delayed, but kept pace 
 with Smith's progress, its right being thrown against the sa- 
 lient of Hood's line. Steedman kept up the attack on the left 
 all during the day. 
 
 Hood, finding the main attack falling on his left, withdrew 
 Cheatham's Corps except one division from his right, and ex- 
 tended and entrenched his left. After the left was broken, 
 Hood withdrew his whole force to a shorter line about two 
 miles in rear of what had been his center and left. This line 
 faced north squarely across the two direct roads to Franklin, 
 its flanks resting on high hills within about half a mile of the 
 turnpikes. Both flanks were thrown back and intrenched, 
 especially the left. 
 
 The Union losses during the first day were surprisingly 
 sm.all considering the results attained, being not more than 
 1000 in killed, wounded and missing. About nightfall, 
 Thomas judged that Hood was going to make a hasty retreat, 
 and ordered Wood's Corps to move by its left to the Franklin 
 pike and then to push southward. Darkness stopped the 
 movement, which resulted in a throwing back of Wood's left. 
 No new orders were issued during the night for the next day's 
 attack if Hood was found to have taken up a new position. 
 The gaps in the line were filled, especially one between the 
 two divisions on Schofield's first line. 
 
 The advance began at six o'clock in the morning. Steed- 
 man attacked the Rebel right, driving back the advance line of 
 skirmishers, and closing toward Wood's left. Wood was 
 
132 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 compelled to place all three divisions in line, owing to the gap 
 which his flank movement the night before had opened be- 
 tween him and Smith. The Union line now was parallel to 
 Wood's and overlapped it only on the Union right. When 
 Steechnan's line united with Wood's the general command of 
 the left was given to Wood. 
 
 A strong cross fire of artillery was kept up all morning on 
 Hood's left. The swinging movement of Wilson's dismounted 
 cavalry continued, followed by that of Schofield's right. The 
 construction of the works on the hill at Hood's left had been 
 somewhat defecti\e, and permitted the line to be struck in 
 reverse. This so soon shattered the defenses as to permit of 
 an assault, and about four o'clock an attack all along the line 
 of Smith's and Schofield's Corps was made, while Wilson's 
 dismounted cavalry pressed the rear of the Rebel left. Pressed 
 on all sides the Rebel left and center gave way in utter dis- 
 order. Meanwhile Steedman and Wood had made a strong 
 attack, preceded by heavy artillery fire, on Hood's extreme 
 right, V, hich. although repulsed, caused Hood to weaken some- 
 what his left. Hood made no counter attack, and his right 
 follovved the left and center in great disorder. 
 
 Nearly all of Hood's artillery was left on the field. The 
 pursuit was somewhat delayed by the great distance the dis- 
 mounted cavalry had moved from the led horses and by the 
 weather, the night being rainy and cold. Forrest had been 
 recalled after the first day's fight, and he wisely hurried a 
 brigade across country to cover Hood's rear. This brigade, 
 together with two brigades, shortly before the line gave 
 way, had been directed to cover the passes through the hills 
 in rear. Hood was unable to efrect any material reorganiza- 
 tion of his army until he had crossed the Harpeth and was 
 compelled to abandon the defense of that river, leaving his 
 hospital, containing- more than 2000 wounded. Forrest re- 
 joined Hood at Columbia and, assisted by five brigades of in- 
 fantry, covered the retreat to the Tennessee, which Hood 
 crossed at Bainbridge on a pontoon bridge which Granger's 
 troops had failed to destroy. The state of the roads delayed the 
 Union pontoon trains, and Hood succeeded in crossing all his 
 forces to the south bank of the Tennessee by night of the 27th. 
 
BATTLES OF FRANKLIN AND NASHVILLE 133 
 
 Steedman's force had been moved to Murfreesboro and 
 thence by rail to Decatur. At the end of the year, when 
 Thomas considered the campaign closed, and gave directions 
 for going into winter quarters Steedman was at Decatur, 
 Wood at Lexington, Ala., Smith at Pulaski and Schofield at 
 Columbia. 
 
 This campaign "entirely ruined" Hood, as Grant had di- 
 rected Sherman to do. Its great success made Sherman's 
 march to the sea a formidable military maneuver. It ended 
 the Rebel problem of war in the West and Southwest, leaving 
 only the destruction of the Rebel resources as a necessary war 
 measure. Hood's army never again existed as such, but was 
 furloughed, deserted, or was transferred to other fields, its 
 actual losses are indeterminate — Hood admitting to a less 
 number than Thomas took as prisoners alone. It is known 
 that 13,000 were taken prisoners, or deserted to the Union 
 forces. 
 
 Despite the accusations of delay and threats of removal that 
 had been cast at Thomas, his great success must be taken as a 
 justification of the soundness of his policy. From a purely 
 military standpoint it is difficult to see what great need of 
 hurry there was. It must have been plain, on calm reflection, 
 that Thomas' strength was increasing faster than Hood's, and 
 the probabilities of great victory also increasing. Nor did any 
 of Hood's movements justify the fear that he would retreat 
 without wager of battle. 
 
 At the battle of Franklin, the Confederate General Carter was killed 
 in his own dooryard (Carter's house). 
 
 An idea of the tremendous loss to Hood's army may be gained from 
 the fact that in this battle of Franklin, or rather from the time he left 
 Florence to go into Tennessee until his retreat, which includes the battles 
 of Franklin and Nashville, one of his major generals was killed and four 
 wounded. Five of his brigadier generals were killed and nine wounded, 
 and of these nine seven were captured. Half of his regimental officers 
 were killed or wounded and thirty per cent, of his men. Nearly all his 
 artillery and more than half of his ordnance trains were captured. — 
 EnrroR. 
 
CARRYING THE GOOD NEWS TO GRANT* 
 
 By S. H. M. Byers, 2d Lieutenant, Co. B, 5th Iowa 
 
 Infantry 
 
 This article was published long ago in Harper's Weelchj, but was selected by 
 my friend, the author, as his contribution to this collection of incidents of the 
 war. — Editor. 
 
 The march to the sea was completed, and we had turned 
 north to do unto South Carolina as we had done to Georgia. 
 The Western army was now in the heat of the swamps and 
 wilderness of North Carolina. It was as completely lost to 
 Northern ken as if the earth had opened and swallowed it up. 
 For weeks we had not had one word of communication with 
 anybody. For weeks we had been floundering through 
 swamps and woods, building corduroy bridges and roads for 
 the artillery every foot of the way. Every stream had to be 
 waded or pontooned, with the enemy fighting us from the 
 opposite side. No campaign so strenuous had ever taken place 
 on this continent. 
 
 The march to the sea was a grand holiday for us compared 
 with this. Tn spite of all South Carolina's threats that no 
 Northern soldier should ever put foot on her sacred soil, a 
 wliole army of blnecoats had entered the capital. By the acci- 
 dent of war, that capital was left in ashes ; the State was cut 
 in two ; Charleston, with its Fort Sumter, that resisted ten 
 thousand cannon balls for years, fell, and the North, waiting 
 and praying- for news of Sherman, knew nothing of it at all. 
 
 One night, as the weary columns were floundering along 
 through mud and rain, a steam whistle was heard around a 
 
 ♦From Harper's Weekly, copyright, 1905, by Harper & Brothers. 
 
CARRYING THE GOOD NEWS TO GRANT 135 
 
 bend in the Cape Fear River. A tiny Northern tugboat had 
 ventured to creep a hundred miles up the river to try to find 
 Sherman. They came clear from the ocean ; they slipped i)ast 
 hidden forts and watchful outposts in the darkness, and glided 
 over torpedoes and all kinds of river obstructions. 
 
 The little launch, covered over with cotton bales, had 
 scarcely landed when Sherman announced to the staff that 
 on the next day he would put somebody on that tiny craft 
 and send him with important dispatches to the Government 
 at Washington, and above al! to Grant before Richmond. 
 Who was to go? There was some unconcealed jealousy among 
 the officers at the breakfast table the next morning when Gen- 
 eral Sherman quietly remarked that he had selected me. In 
 service I was far the youngest on the staff. But I had had 
 experience inside the enemy's lines, had been fifteen months a 
 prisoner of war, and had escaped numerous times. 
 
 I was to get ready by night; we w^ere at the village of Fay- 
 etteville, and headquarters were in the big arsenal built there 
 by the American Government. General Sherman took me 
 walking with him all around and all through the arsenal be- 
 fore he should tell the engineers to blow it up. "They shall 
 never use it against the country again," he said. In that little 
 walk he quietly told me all the things I might say to Grant 
 for him, and then he went into a room in the arsenal and 
 wrote out other things, dispatches and important letters, that 
 now' stand in the records of the Civil War. He also wrote 
 out with his own hand this little note for me personally: 
 
 "Fayetteville, N. C, 
 "Special Field Order No. 29, March 12, 1865. 
 
 "x\djutant Byers, 5th Iowa Infantry, escaped prisoner of 
 war, is detailed as bearer of dispatches, and will proceed to 
 the tug1:)oat now at the bridge, to Wilmington, and deliver his 
 dispatches there, thence to General Grant at City Point, and 
 thence to Washington City. . . . 
 
 "W. T. Sherman, General." 
 
 By dark I had my dispatches tucked away under my cloth- 
 
136 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 ing, and leaded in case it should prove necessary to throw 
 them into the river. The boat was co\'ered with bales of cot- 
 ton, to give protection and to hide our lights. Sherman came 
 to the river bank, bade us Godspeed, and in five minutes the 
 little tug whirled out to the middle of the stream on its dan- 
 gerous way. All that dark tempestuous night the pilot held 
 the little craft as near the middle of the stream as possible. If 
 the enemy on either side of the shore saw or heard us we did 
 not know it, and they made no sign. Our speed down the 
 rushing stream was tremendous. Our plan was to get to the 
 ocean before daylight. We knew the Confederates would be 
 along the shore watching us. We knew they had placed tor- 
 pedoes in the river long before, but we made no effort to 
 avoid them. Nobody knew where they were, and as absolutely 
 nothing could be seen in the darkness we simply plowed ahead. 
 At one point we saw some lights ahead of us on the shore. 
 Men were moving up "and down near to a little bivouac fire, 
 and we saw a fort. We thought we saw a big gun sticking 
 out from the breastworks, and expected to be blown to pieces 
 every moment. Evidently we were neither seen nor heard, 
 and we breathed easier. Again we saw lights flicker, and sud- 
 denly a voice yelled out: "Stop that boat! Stop that boat!" 
 
 We quickly tried to turn out into the stream and escape. 
 ''Stop! Damn you!" came the voice again, and other voices, 
 and then we saw soldiers running past a little campfire. 
 "They're Yankees! They're Yankees!" called out the Cap- 
 tain, and sure enough, we had run straight on to a picket post 
 of General Terry's army. In fifteen minutes we were in Wil- 
 mington; the mad ride in the darkness was over. 
 
 Some guards took us to the house of the post commander. 
 
 General Terry was up in a moment, and gave me possession 
 of the warm bed he had vacated, while he himself began the 
 execution of certain orders I had brought from General Sher- 
 man. 
 
 In a few hours a ship was ready to carry me to Virginia. 
 At Fortress Monroe I changed boats and went up the river 
 to City Point, and soon found myself inside the cabin occu- 
 pied by Grant as army headquarters. I was being directed by 
 Rawlins to "Go right into the little back room," when a rather 
 
CARRYING THE GOOD NEWS TO GRANT 137 
 
 short man, with brown, close-cropped whiskers and stooped 
 shoulders, holding a bundle of papers in his hand, opened the 
 door. We nearly collided. Confused by the sudden meeting, 
 and seeing only a man without hat or uniform, I was taking 
 him for an army clerk. 
 
 Instantly Rawlins saw my embarrassment, jumped up, and 
 told the man that I was a courier from Sherman's army. The 
 supposed clerk threw his papers down on Rawlins' desk and 
 bade me enter the room he had just left. Then I knew it was 
 General Grant. I had seen Grant before, had been close to 
 him in battle; but then that was long before, and all was now 
 different. I ripped open my clothing, handed him my dis- 
 patches, and excitedly watched the pleased changes on his 
 flushed face while he hurriedly read the great news I brought 
 him from Sherman. He sat down by a little window, and 
 for an hour catechised me as to all that had befallen Sher- 
 man's army after it had disappeared from the world's ken in 
 the Carolinas. In the Rebel newspapers gathered up by his 
 scouts he had read of all kinds of misfortunes having befallen 
 Sherman's army. Among other things, Sherman's cavalry 
 wing, under Kilpatrick, had been reported as surrounded and 
 partially destroyed, its leader a prisoner. There were ex- 
 tremest eagerness and gratification shining on Grant's face 
 when I related how Kilpatrick and his men, instead of being 
 captured, had won a handsome victory. General Ord hap- 
 pened in at the moment, and the good news was repeated to 
 him. Ord clanked his spurs together, rubbed his hands and 
 manifested joy. 'T had my fears, I had my fears," he mut- 
 tered. "And I not a bit," said Grant, springing from his seat 
 by the window. "I know Sherman — I know my man." 
 
 My narrative and the dispatches I carried were the very 
 first news he or the country had received since Sherman left 
 Savannah. 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN— DEATH OF McPHER- 
 
 SON 
 
 By Mrs. John A. Logan 
 
 I was exceedingly fortunate after the war to have, as one of my very 
 warm friends, General John A. Logan. For years before his death his 
 friendship to and for me was constant and true, as the man was. Many 
 times, unsought, he showed me this friendship in kindly deeds and sincere 
 words. After his death, so keenly and universally felt, the same friend- 
 ship has been enjoyed by me from his dearly loved widow. 
 
 His kind feelings have been kept tender and warm by her, and for all, I 
 shall never cease to be glad. During the Spanish-American war, while 
 stationed in Manila, I became intimate with the son of these good people. 
 He was a splendid representative of his illustrious father, possessing much 
 of his soldierly appearance, his brilliant courage and his military genius. 
 When his regiment was about to go to the seat of action away from 
 Manila, he took dinner with me and asked me, as he bade me good-by, 
 to ''stand at the window and see my regiment march by" to take 
 the boat. I did so, and as he rode at the head of the column, I quickly 
 imagined T was looking at "Black Jack" again. The next day he went 
 beyond to ineet his father. The only thing I could do as a tribute of my 
 love for him was to place flowers on his coffin as his body was borne to 
 the vessel that was to take it to his loved ones in this country. Mrs. 
 General Logan, hearing of this volume, gave me the following contribu- 
 tion to its pages. 
 
 The account given is the real story, so many times since the war told in 
 varied and incorrect ways, and this article is of much historic value. — 
 Editor. 
 
 After the fall of Vicksburg many officers and men had 
 leaves of absence and furloughs. Hastening to their homes 
 in the North and West, they found the welcome due return- 
 ing soldiers who have been valiant in their coimtry's service. 
 
 138 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN 139 
 
 Their presence among the people soon dissipated the senti- 
 mental sympathies with the South which had been aroused 
 over the Emancipation Proclamation. The descriptions the 
 returning officers and soldiers gave of the dangers which they 
 had faced, the hardships they had endured, the suiTerings they 
 had experienced, the sacrifices they had made and witnessed 
 as they saw their comrades fall on many bloody fields, not 
 knowing their own fate, perhaps, ere the conflict ceased, rap- 
 idly renewed the spirit of patriotism, which spread so rapidly 
 that when, at the expiration of the leave the officers and men 
 had enjoyed, they departed to join their respective commands, 
 they knew that there would be no more lukewarm support of 
 the army in the field by the people at home. 
 
 Appreciating, as I did, the prodigious undertakings that 
 were planned for Sherman's army, 1 spent many midnight 
 hours in sleepless anxiety. During the day we had plenty to 
 do to help care for the families of the refugee soldiers, who 
 were subject to all the ills to which human flesh is heir. 
 Playing nurse, comforter, providing ways and means, and 
 soliciting and dispensing relief kept my friends and myself 
 very busy, meanwhile watching and waiting impatiently for 
 the meager tidings that came irregularly from the advancing 
 army. 
 
 All the winter of 1863 and the spring of 1864, Sherman was 
 preparing for the campaign and siege of Atlanta, His old 
 West Point friend and associate, Johnston, was in command 
 of the forces in and about Atlanta. Sherman had the most 
 exalted opinion of Johnston's military abilities and courage. 
 He was therefore very careful that every precaution should be 
 observed. 
 
 The almost impregnable mountain barriers encircling that 
 w^ell-fortified city added much to the advantage of the enemy. 
 With an army of less courage and experience Sherman would 
 have had reason for solicitude, Vicksburg, Lookout Moun- 
 tain, and Chattanooga were ours. General Grant and the 
 Army of the East had scored many victories ; the enemy were 
 dispirited and rapidly reaching the point of desperation and 
 the last ditch in which they were "to die," therefore the Union 
 troops had reason to expect intrepid resistance to their ad- 
 
I40 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 vance. But they were in no wise deterred, and only impatient 
 for active operations, growing quite restive under the delays 
 incident to the mobilization of such an army. 
 
 On A I ay i, 1864, they started, breaking up the headquarters 
 at Huntsville, Ala., from which date until September ist they 
 were constantly on the move, lighting their way over almost 
 every foot of territory to the frowning breastworks surround- 
 ing Atlanta. 
 
 At Resaca they first drove the enemy from their works and 
 pursued them in their retreat to Adairsville. General Logan 
 desired to follow up this victory and capture the flower of 
 Johnston's army, but was not permitted to do so. Subse- 
 quently it was proven that General Logan was correct in his 
 military judgment, and that his proposition could have been 
 successfully executed. Thence the Union forces marched to 
 Kingston and Dallas, where, in a severe engagement against 
 Harden 's veteran corps, General Logan was shot through the 
 arm. about halfway betweeen the elbow and the shoulder. 
 They seemed determined to deprive him of his left arm. as he 
 had been shot through his left arm a few inches below the 
 point of the shoulder at Fort Donelson. He paid little atten- 
 tion to the wound received at Dallas, feeling that there was no 
 time to be off duty for a single hour. General Logan always 
 claimed that Dallas, for the length and number of troops en- 
 gaged, was one of the most hotly contested battles of the war. 
 The attack of the Fifteenth Corps on Kenesaw Mountain, up 
 its peculiar side, was one of the most daring and tragic in his- 
 tory and was made in obedience to orders, against the advice 
 of General Logan, who considered the impossible feat little 
 short of madness, an opinion in which General McPherson 
 coincided, but both were subordinate to the general command- 
 ing the movements around Atlanta. 
 
 Yet the gallant leader of the Fifteenth Corps never hesitated 
 to obey an order, even though it would lead him to dire dis- 
 aster. His brave followers tried to go wherever he led, so at 
 eight o'clock in the morning, June 27, 1864. they went bravely 
 forward over two lines of works, driving the enemy still 
 hijL'her on the precipitous sides of the mountain to be mowed 
 down like grass by the army entrenched above. Huge stones, 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN 141 
 
 a torrent of iron hail and canister were hurled down upon 
 them like the avalanches of the Rocky Mountains. To pro- 
 ceed farther or remain where they were was impossible. Be- 
 sides the hundreds of dauntless men, such heroes as Generals 
 Marker and McCook were killed. Finally, the advice of Gen- 
 eral Logan to flank the position was adopted, but not till the 
 scaling experiment had cost many valuable lives. 
 
 Johnston, seeing that his rear was threatened by the flank 
 movement, fell back from Kenesaw toward Atlanta. 
 
 General Logan and General Blair commanded the corps of 
 the Army of the Tennessee. Between them and General Mc- 
 Pherson there existed the most perfect harmony. General 
 Logan and General McPherson were thoroughly impressed 
 that in the front of the Fifteenth Corps there was massed a 
 large force of the enemy after the fighting that had taken 
 place around Decatur. General Sherman believed they were 
 evacuating Atlanta and were retreating toward Fast Point. 
 and ordered General McPherson to pursue them with the Army 
 of 'be Tennessee, nnd if nossible cut off a portion of them. 
 
 McPherson felt that this was a terrible mistake, but he was 
 too good a soldier to hesitate long over an order. So, early 
 in the morning of July 226, he rode over to General Logan's 
 headquarters to confer with him, and at the same time order 
 General Logan to put the troops in position to carry out Gen- 
 eral Sherman's orders ''while he would ride over i"o Sher- 
 man's headquarters and try to convince him of his error." 
 General Logan has often with tears in his eyes related the 
 thrilling circumstances, and how he proceeded at once to obey 
 McPherson, feeling that they were to be met by an opposing 
 army greatly in excess of their commands. 
 
 Scarcely had the sound of the clatter of McPherson's horse's 
 hoofs as he galloped off in the direction of General Sherman's 
 headquarters died away, when an orderly came on a flying 
 steed to General Logan to announce that McPherson had been 
 killed by Claiborne's cavalry, which were rapidly swinging 
 around to the rear of the Union Army. 
 
 Thus, in a twinkling, upon General Logan was thrust the 
 awful responsibility of extricating the troops from the direful 
 position in which they were placed — almost cut off, the enemy 
 
142 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 in the rear, the Union cavalry sent off to burn a bridge at 
 Covington, and with the command placed as nearly as possible 
 under the orders given by General Sherman to McPherson and 
 carried by him in person to General Logan, as mentioned above, 
 in the early morning of July 22, 1864. 
 The order read as follows : 
 
 "Three Miles and a Half East of Atlanta, Ga. 
 "Major General John A. Logan, 
 
 "Commanding Fifteenth Army Corps. 
 "The enemy having evacuated their works in front of our 
 lines, the supposition of Major General Sherman is that they 
 have given up Atlanta, and are retreating in the direction of 
 East Point. 
 
 "You will immediately put your command in pursuit to the 
 south and east of .Atlanta, without entering the town. You 
 will take a route to the left of that taken by the enemy and try 
 to cut off a portion of them while they are pressed in the rear, 
 and on the right by Generals Schofield and Thomas. 
 
 "Major General Sherman desires and expects a vigorous 
 pursuit. 
 
 "Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 
 
 "James B. McPherson, 
 
 "Major General." 
 
 It was proven afterward to have been wholly impracticable. 
 With the sounds of the guns of the attacking enemy coming 
 from every direction, General Logan, as the ranking officer, 
 and v/ith only the orders which he received from McPherson 
 a few minutes before he was killed, assumed command. He 
 rode with magic swiftness from one end of the line to the 
 other, rallying the soldiers with the tragic cry of "McPherson 
 and Revenge," and appealing to officers and men to do or die. 
 Hand to hand was the order of the day — victory wavering, 
 wavering from one side to the other from early morning till 
 the day was far spent. The irresistible force and intrepid 
 valor of the Union Army, led by a dauntless leader, had com- 
 pelled the enemy to fall back, and the day was ours, and Mc- 
 Pherson avenged, solely through General Logan's matchless 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN 143 
 
 military genius, indomitable courage, and leadership of men — 
 men who would ha\e followed him to the jaws of death. He 
 fought the battle without orders, winning a victory when the 
 tide of battle was almost overwhelmingly against him. 
 
 I cannot resist quoting from General Logan's address, on the 
 occasion of the unveiling of the McPherson's monument in Mc- 
 Pherson Square in Washington, in 1876, his graphic descrip- 
 tion of McPherson's death: 
 
 "The news of his death spread with lightning speed along 
 the lines, sending a pang of deepest sorrow to every heart as 
 it readied the ear; but especially terrible was its effect upon 
 the Army of the Tennessee. It seemed as though a burnmg, 
 fiery dart had pierced every breast, tearing asunder the flood- 
 gates of grief, but at the same time heaving to their very 
 depths the fountains of revenge. The clenched hands seemed 
 to sink into the weapons they held, and from the eyes gleamed 
 forth flashes terrible as lightning. The cry 'McPherson! 
 McPherson and Revenge !' rose above the din of battle, and 
 as it rang along the line, swelled in power until the roll of 
 musketry and booming of cannon seemed drowned by its 
 echoes. 
 
 "McPherson seemed again to lead his troops — and where 
 McPherson leads, victory is sure. Each officer and soldier, 
 from the succeeding commander to the lowest private, beheld, 
 as it were, the form of their bleeding chief leading them on to 
 battle. 'McPherson,' and 'Onward to Victory!' were their 
 only thoughts; bitter, terrible revenge, their only aim." 
 
 There was no such thought that day as stopping short of 
 victory or death. The spontaneous resolve was to win the 
 day or perish with their slain leader on the bloody field. Fear- 
 fully was his death avenged. His army, maddened by his 
 death, and utterly reckless of life, rushed with savage delight 
 into the fiercest onslaughts, and fearlessly plunged into the 
 very jaws of destruction. As wave after wave of Plood's 
 daring troops dashed with terrible fury upon our lines, they 
 were hurled back with a fearful shock, breaking their columns 
 into fragments, as the granite headland breaks into foam the 
 ocean billows that strike against it. Across the narrow line 
 of works raged the fierce storm of battle, the hissing shot and 
 
144 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 bursting shell raining death on every hand. Seven times 
 Hood's. Hardee's, and Wheeler's corps charged, and were as 
 many times repulsed. Once they broke the Union lines and 
 captured Degrees' battery, and he, with tears streaming down 
 his brave cheeks, rode as fast as his horse could carry him to 
 General Log-an, bes:ging him to send a brigade of the invincible 
 Fifteenth Army Corps to recover his beloved guns! Fired by 
 the gallant Degrees' heroism, he appealed to the men who had 
 never failed him. Off they went, crying, "The guns ! the guns ! 
 We will have them or die !" Logan led the very incarnation of 
 desperate daring, and in a brief time the battery was recap- 
 tured. 
 
 Over dead and dying friends and foes rushed the swaying 
 host, the shouts of Rebels confident of victory only drowned 
 by the battle cry, "McPherson and Revenge!" which went up 
 from the Army of the Tennessee. Twelve thousand gallant 
 men bit the dust ere the night closed in, and the defeated and 
 baffled enemy, after failing- in repeated and desperate assaults 
 upon our lines, was compelled to give up the hopeless contest ; 
 notwithstanding our troops had to fight front and rear, victory 
 crowned our arms. 
 
 That night, after the battle, General Logan received orders 
 commanding him to report to General Sherman's headquarters, 
 which he reached at the witching hour of midnight, to be con- 
 gratulated and praised without stint for the work he had done 
 that day. 
 
 Continuance of the command of the Army of the Tennessee 
 was promised him again and again, as he in detail reported to 
 General Sherman the events of the battle. No intimation was 
 given him of his unfitness for the command, or of his lacking 
 in the profession of a soldier. His military sense was consid- 
 ered of the highest order; if he was a soldier from civilian 
 ranks, he had never been defeated in any engagement. He 
 felt, as he returned to his own headquarters that night, that all 
 was propitious, that he had done his duty well, and that merit 
 would receive its just reward. He was anxious to fulfill every 
 requirement of so responsible a position, so, when orders came 
 that the army under him should withdraw from their entrench- 
 ments and move seven miles to the right under cover of dark- 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN 145 
 
 ness, that the enemy might not discover the movement, Gen- 
 eral Logan personahy superintended the execution of the com- 
 mand. He ordered the wheels of the wagon trains and artil- 
 lery to be muffled with hay and straw, and was so explicit in 
 his directions to the officers in command of the various corps 
 and divisions that, in the stillness of the night, they quietly 
 gathered up all their belongings and all the paraphernalia of 
 war, and were in their new position in the early morning, — 
 an unparalleled piece of strategy in the history of the Rebel- 
 lion, and not excelled by any like movement by the greatest 
 warriors of any age. Imagine the feelings of a man, when, 
 weary from midnight vigils, marching and personally super- 
 vising such gigantic movements as General Logan had directed 
 for days preceding, when in position ready to begin another 
 big battle, to be confronted with an order to surrender the 
 command to General O. O. Howard, not before conspicuously 
 connected with the great Army of the Tennessee which Logan 
 had led to victory, after McPherson's death, and which had 
 never known defeat under him, and which to a man would have 
 followed Logan through blood and carnage to the very abyss 
 of death. A man of less noble mind and courage would have 
 rebelled and stirred up the just indignation expressed by the 
 whole command, but he, with his great heart beating with 
 patriotism and soldierly appreciation of the effect of his re- 
 sentment, quietly returned to his old corps and led the van in the 
 heroic deeds of July 28th at Ezra Chapel (the most sanguinary 
 battle of the wdiole campaign), where the Fifteenth Corps cap- 
 tured many prisoners, arms and battle flags. 
 
 The victory was so complete that the enemy fled from the 
 field, leaving their dead and wounded behind them. General 
 Howard, General Logan's successor in command of the Army 
 of the Tennessee, made special mention of the conduct of 
 General Logan and his corps, attributing the success of the 
 day as much to General Logan personally as to any one man. 
 After frequent less important engagements, the army reached 
 Jonesboro, where the last great battle before the evacuation 
 of Atlanta occurred. 
 
 General Logan did not reach Jonesboro until midnight of 
 August 30th. Realizing that they were liable to be assaulted 
 by the corps of Hardee and Lee at any moment, he ordered 
 
146 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 entrenchments to be made to protect his Hnes and his men from 
 needless exposure. This was done wilhout orders from either 
 of his superior officers, but from the promptings of his own 
 military genius and wisdom. 
 
 At three o'clock the expected assault was made, but pro- 
 tected by their trenches, the Union forces were able to repel 
 the attacks of the enemy. The artillery were so well posted 
 that they could rake the foe mercilessly. The day resulted in 
 the fall of Atlanta, which had been doomed since the bloody 
 22d of July. 
 
 General Sherman, in his report of the Atlanta campaign, 
 heaped encomiums upon General Logan, and said no one could 
 possibly have done better than he after the death of McPher- 
 son, but admitted that he recommended General Howard to 
 supersede General Logan, 
 
 It is needless to recapitulate, but General Logan's noble 
 conduct in the most trying experience of his life is beyond 
 being exaggerated. I need not dw^ell on his matchless achieve- 
 ments after he returned to the Fifteenth Army Corps, w'hich 
 to a man would have died for him. Logan never swerved one 
 iota from his loyalty to his commanders, nor in the least lessened 
 his energies nor his heroism till Atlanta had fallen. After the 
 battle of Ezra Chapel, on August 28th, 1864, which was won 
 by the daring of the Fifteenth Army Corps with Logan at its 
 head. General Howard issued an order congratulating the 
 army and mentioning General Logan in laudatory terms. Gen- 
 eral Logan was incapable of inciting or allown'ng a mutinous 
 spirit to prevail, but he was not able to prevent the army from 
 feeling resentment at the appointment of General Howard. 
 Had not General Logan gone North at the personal solicita- 
 tion of President Lincoln to take part in the Presidential cam- 
 paign of 1864 — after the fall of Atlanta — and had not the 
 army started on its holiday march to the sea, the incident might 
 not have ended as it did. Suffice to say that the authorities at 
 Washington deemed it expedient to transfer General Howard 
 to the command of the Freedmen's Bureau in Washington, 
 and restore General Logan to the command of the Army of 
 the Tennessee. Major General Logan then rode at the head 
 of that invincible army at the Grand Review. The Army of 
 the Tennessee manifested their gratification at his return to 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN 147 
 
 the command in every possible way. General Howard was 
 naturally chagrined, and a few years ago, in a public way, 
 tried to explain that the restoration of Major General Logan 
 to the command of the Army of the Tennessee was brought 
 about by political influence. It was at least strange that this 
 explanation was not given while General Sherman and Gen- 
 eral Logan were living. Ever since the war closed and the 
 patriotic societies were organized, on every occasion of their 
 meetings, or rather reunions, General Logan was hailed with 
 enthusiasm as the great commander of the Army of the Ten- 
 nessee. 
 
 It may not be inappropriate for me to say that whatever 
 of misun^'erstanding and estrangement may have existed 
 between the two great commanders of the Army of the Ten- 
 nessee. Sherman and Logan, at one time, was wholly oblit- 
 eraterl by General Logan's tribute to General Sherman at a 
 notable banquet given by Colonel Corkhill to General Sherman 
 on b''^ rei-'i-p"^ent ps Ge"'^'"il of the armv. in which he said, in 
 replying to the toast. "The Volunteer Soldier": 
 
 "There were no (juestions of numbers or times, and for 
 General Sherman I will say there was not a soldier who bore 
 the American flag or followed it. not a soldier who shouldered 
 a gun or drew a saber, who did not respect him as his com- 
 mander, [Applause.] There was not one, sir, but would 
 have drawn his sword at any time to have preserved his life. 
 There is not one to-dav, no matter what may have been said 
 that would dim in the <=lightest degree the luster of that bright 
 name, achieved by ability, by integrity, and by true bravery as 
 an officer. [Applause.] And in conclusion let me say this: 
 while that army, when it was disbanded, was absorbed in the 
 communitv like rainrlrops in the sand, all citizens in the twinkl- 
 ing of an eye, and back to their professions and their business, 
 there is not one of these men. scattered as they are from ocean 
 to ocean, who does not honor the name of the man who led 
 them in triumi^h through the enemy's land. [Api)Iause.] 
 A\'herever he may go. wherever he may be, whatever may l)e 
 his condition in life, there is not one who would not stretch 
 out a helping hand to that brave commander who led them to 
 gl >ry. Speaking for that army, if 1 may be pernntied to 
 speak for it. 1 have to say: May the choicest blessings that 
 
148 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 God showers upon the head of man go with him along down 
 through his life, is the prayer of every soldier who served under 
 She) man." [Applause.] 
 
 When General I^ogan finished, General Sherman arose, went 
 around to General Logan, put his arm about his neck and 
 shook his hand cordially, while the tears ran down his cheeks. 
 His emotions were too great for words. 
 
 It was on a Saturday night, and notwithstanding the ap- 
 proach of the wee small hours before the tearful parting of 
 the distinguished guests, General Sherman went home, and 
 before the Sunday morning's dawn, as mentioned in his letters, 
 wrote one of the most manly and feeling letters to General 
 Logan, explaining his reasons for certain actions touching 
 General Logan, and expressing his gratitude for General 
 Logan's tribute to him. 
 
 This letter General Logan acknowledged promptly, respond- 
 ing cordially to the sentiments of regard expressed by his 
 beloved commander. 
 
 The few brief years that intervened before General Logan 
 preceded General Sherman to that land of eternal bliss, they 
 saw much of each other, forgetting in the happy circum- 
 stances of reunited friendship, the unfavorable winds that tem- 
 porarily estranged them. 
 
 It was probably one of the most impressive dinners ever 
 given in Washington, including the names of the most illus- 
 trious men of that time. Nearly every one of that distin- 
 guislied company has joined the mighty throng in the great 
 beyond. 
 
 This correspondence General Logan regarded as confidential, 
 and therefore he would not discuss the matter nor give it to the 
 public. Amicable relations having been restored between him- 
 self and his revered commander, to whom he was most sin- 
 cerely attached, he was willing the matter should be dropped, 
 as it was impossible for General Logan with his generous and 
 big-hearted nature to bear malice long, or be long estranged 
 from any to whom he had once been attached. 
 
 Prior to the dinner above mentioned. General Sherman had 
 at various times and in many ways tried to explain why he 
 had been so inconsistent as to recommend General Howard to 
 the authorities at Washington as successor to General Mc- 
 
THE ATLANTA CAMPAIGN 1^9 
 
 Pherson in command of the Army of the Tennessee, after he 
 had acknowledged that General Logan had rescued that army 
 from defeat, and won one of the most signal victories of the 
 war. 
 
 After General Logan's death, General Sherman gave to the 
 press the correspondence which had passed between himself 
 and General Logan. And the more tacitly than ever before, 
 admitting that it was at the earnest solicitation of Thomas and 
 Schofleld, because General Logan was a volunteer and not a 
 professional soldier. That General Logan was not a graduate 
 of West Point, therefore he should not be entrusted with an 
 army, notwithstanding his record showed that he had never 
 lost a battle nor a skirmish in which he had been engaged, 
 which could not be said of either General Sherman or the two 
 graduates of West Point who were inimical to General Logan. 
 Though all of these conspicuous figures have passed to the 
 great beyond and it matters little now, yet the facts are inde- 
 structible, and place General Logan's name high on the roll of 
 immortal soldiers. 
 
THREE GOOD STORIES OF THE ARMY OF 
 NORTHERN VIRGINIA 
 
 By p. F. Gorman, of Kemper's Battery, C. S. A. 
 
 The Alexandria Virginia Eight Artillery, better known 
 during the War of '6i to '65 as Kemper's Battery, was en- 
 gaged at the first battle of Manassas, and after a hard day's 
 work, a short time after the Federal troops had begun retreat- 
 ing, a few men. with two of our guns, got out in the road lead- 
 ing down to the Stone Bridge over Cub Run, which, while a 
 small stream, was crossed for a long distance in either direc- 
 tion only by this bridge. 
 
 When we got in the road we found great quantities of 
 eatables and baskets of champagne, etc., that had been aban- 
 doned by the Federals and some congressmen who were going 
 to Richmond with the troops. They expected to take Rich- 
 mond very soon, and carried with them an abundance of re- 
 freshments, so as to have a good time when they arrived ; we 
 found lots of this stuff strewn on both sides of the road, and 
 our men were enjoying themselves eating, drinking, laughing, 
 etc. At this time the writer was sitting on one of the wheel 
 horses of No. I gun, watching the men, and trying to guide 
 the lead horses, whose driver had left them to help drink up 
 the champagne. We thought the Federals had gone for good, 
 but as we came to a rise in the road about five hundred yards 
 from the bridge fbeing' on the horse) I could see the Federal 
 infantry forming in line of battle in front of, and on both 
 sides of. the bridge; this was done to defend and hold the 
 bridge while their artillery and army wagons could cross over 
 in safety: thev were also getting a couple of guns in position 
 on each side of the road. I went to our captain and told him 
 what T saw. I also told Colonel Kershaw, who was in com- 
 mand of the two req:iments of South Carolina infantry at this 
 point, but thev paid no attention to what I told them, only 
 saying : "Don't get excited. The Yankees won't stop running 
 
 ISO 
 
THE ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA 151 
 
 this side of Washington." I finally got one of our men, — 
 Ed Burroughs, — and with his assistance I unlimbered one gun, 
 ran it to th^ brow of the hill, loaded it with a solid shot, and 
 fired straight down the road, and the ball striking a large 
 army wagon that was on the bridge, upset it in such a way 
 that it completely blocked all passage over the bridge. Some 
 of the men ran up and we continued firing, but after a few 
 shots the Federals, seeing the way of retreat was blocked, and 
 expecting the Rebels were closing in on them again, became 
 panic-stricken, and leaving all the artillery, wagons, horses, 
 food, etc., they made for the water, and threw away their 
 muskets PS thev w^f^ed across the run in a regular stampede. 
 
 We captured a large lot of army stores, thirty-two pieces of 
 artillery, including two mounted howitzers, all, as I consider, 
 by one lucky shot. 
 
 In the fall of 1862 Kemper's Battery was encamped at Fair- 
 field Race Course, near Richmond, \'a., and we received 
 rations from the Confederate Government, but even at this 
 time we did not get enough to satisfy the inner man, and we 
 were continually on the scout for something to eat; we gen- 
 erally succeeded, and added fresh pork, sweet potatoes, etc., 
 to our rations of flour and beans. 
 
 Near our camp was a large, fine truck garden, owned and 
 worked by a widow with two sons and three daughters. When 
 we were short of vegetables, some of our boys called to see 
 the old lady and her girls ; sometimes they would have a dance 
 (one of the old-time "shindigs"), and while this was going 
 on, those who did not care to dance would call on the garden 
 and load up with cabbage and sweet potatoes and the like. At 
 this lime there were many hogs roaming around the camp, 
 and roast pork and sweet potatoes were our favorite dishes. 
 Among the hogs that came in camp was one long. lank, lean, 
 overgrown sow that had only one ear; she seemed more 
 gentle than the others, and marched up to our quarters every 
 day to be fed on a little corn we reserxed for her when feed- 
 ing our horses. Our company was divided into messes, some 
 having five or six members, and others more, but all agreed 
 to feed this hog, get her fat. and make her the pet of the camp. 
 
 By this time the farmers, having missed so many hogs, 
 
152 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 began to pen them up, until at last old "one-eared" was the 
 only one to visit us ; the men of the different messes were now 
 profuse in lauding the good qualities of our "pet," and all 
 agreed not to molest her, saying, "Look at her; we have been 
 feeding her so long she is now big and fat; it would be a 
 shame to touch her," About this time we received orders to 
 be ready to change camp at short notice, and Bob Flarity, a 
 member of one of the other messes, asked the writer to go on 
 a little scout with him one dark night ; he said he knew where 
 to get some nice turnips. So we went about five miles from 
 camp, and while we got the turnips all right, I found his main 
 object was to secure some stone jars or pitchers from a pot- 
 tery he had located in one of his former scouts ; we got the 
 goods and returned to camp before morning. I aroused the 
 boys of our mess and told them Bob's mess was getting ready 
 to capture the pet. I felt sure they wanted the jars to hold 
 some of the rendered fat from the hog. Our mess did not 
 desire to get left, so we kept awake till full daylight ; we 
 loaded the old musket (each mess always kept one) and waited 
 for "Mrs. Hog" to make her appearance, for she generally 
 came early to get her breakfast, but she was a little late that 
 morning. We noticed several men from the different messes 
 peeping around and talking to each other in low tones, so we 
 knew it would not be long before there would be "something 
 doing." At last she appeared on the scene near a path that 
 led through a thick growth of brier bushes to the rear of our 
 camp ; one of our mess went around that way with the gun, 
 and I was picked out to drive her toward him and steal a 
 march on the other fellows. I first tried to coax her with an 
 ear of corn; this did not work, so I got behind her and tried 
 to drive her. but was balked again, as she simply would not 
 drive; she turned and faced me, and there we stood. She 
 grunted a little and her one ear kept moving back and forth, 
 showing that she was a good deal excited. I stood my ground, 
 hands stretched out, and feet spread apart, trying my best to 
 keen her from runnine past me. Jnst then she heard a noise 
 in the bushes, and with a loud squeal, she made a dash to run 
 between mv legs. when, "bang! bang!" went a couple of shots, 
 and down she went. I leaped for the hog and another man, 
 George Y., jumped from the bushes, stuck his knife in her 
 
THE ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA 153 
 
 neck, and in less than the time it takes to tell it, there were 
 four of lis there, claiming the hog. Of course we had to divide 
 it in four parts, but we had enough meat for all, but Bob 
 Flarity's mess and mine fared the best, because we had jars 
 to hold the lard from the one-eared sow. 
 
 Kemper's Battery missed several big battles from the fact 
 that about the time General I.ee's army went into Maryland 
 they were left in the batteries around Richmond to defend that 
 city during the raids made by Generals Stoneman, Dahlgren, 
 Kilpatrick. and others. About this time, too, horses being very 
 scarce, ourswere sent to General Lee and the men given ritles 
 and put into infantry with four other companies, and called 
 the i8tli Virginia Battalion, H^eavy Artillery; we really acted 
 as infantry, but could man and fire the guns in the batteries 
 when it was necessary. We did some good work during this 
 time, but if the Federals had really known how few men 
 were defending Richmond, they might have captured that city 
 much sooner than they did. We had one advantage, however, 
 for when we repulsed them at one point, they would try 
 another and had to go around, while we could cut across right 
 through the city and meet them again with the very same 
 men. We had plenty of hard work, although in our "Capital 
 City," we had very little to eat. Very often the workmen 
 from the gun shops and all the convalescents from the hos- 
 pitals were called out to help us ; it was a sad sight to see the 
 convalescents wading about in the trenches when they should 
 have been in bed. In going through the city on these occa- 
 sions we were often very hungry, and having no money to 
 buy, we generally "held up" the first baker's shop we found 
 open, and I tell you we made the bread fly; but as the bakers 
 caught on to this game they would keep watch and close their 
 shops until the "Battery men" had gone by. 
 
 Of course we had a little fun during this time, for I re- 
 member in repelling a cavalry attack on the Brook Turnpike 
 leading into Richmond we had a hard time, little to eat. bad 
 weather, etc. It was March, and one night on picket duty the 
 boys were nearly played out for want of sleep and rest; our 
 picket posts were some distance apart, because we had very 
 few men, and as it was either raining, snowing, or freezing 
 
154 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 most of the time, we had fires built back some distance from 
 the picket line, and when the men were relieved they would 
 rush to the fire to thaw out a little, and here is where we had 
 some fun. 
 
 By the side of the fire was a lar.s^e hole about five feet deep 
 and full of water as cold as ice; when the picket was about to 
 be relieved the men at the fire would stand in such position 
 that the man relieved, in his hurry to get warm, would rush 
 right into the trap and fall "splash" right in the hole full of 
 water; the poor fellow would give a yell as he went in, and 
 after we got him out he wanted to whip the whole squad. We 
 would finally quiet him by giving him a good seat by the fire, 
 and then we would settle down to wait for the next victim. 
 
 At another fire there was no water pit ; the men were sitting 
 around, some dozing, some fast asleep very near the fire, on 
 a small spot that had dried a little. Things were very quiet 
 for a while until one of the sleepers commenced groaning and 
 twisting his body about; he had heavy boots on and now and 
 then he would stretch out his legs until his feet were on some 
 red-hot coals. We could smell the leather burning, but as he 
 was nearly fagged out he did not wake fully, but continued to 
 draw up his feet and then to stretch them out again, groaning 
 all the time; of course we enjoyed all this, and laughed at his 
 antics until, at times, the tears would fairly run down our 
 cheeks. One of his comrades, feeling sorry for him, attempted 
 to wake him up ; he pulled his feet off the coals and called him 
 by name. Just then he was grabbed by two other men who 
 said, "I et him alone, damn you ! they are his boots. What have 
 you got to do with it? Do vou want to spoil our fun?" Just 
 then the noor fellow awoke with a yell, and was answered 
 with another veil from all those standing around. The men on 
 the picket were alarmed at the fuss and some began firing; 
 they thought the Yankees were about to attack us. After a 
 A\liile things nuieted down ; the poor fellow suffered some pain, 
 so we cut off his boots and fixed him up as best we could, but 
 it was a long time before he got fully over it, and whenever 
 a few comrades get together now, we are sure to mention the 
 night that George Murray roasted his boots. 
 
WOUNDED AT SHILOH AND LEFT ON THE FIELD 
 
 AS DEAD 
 
 By David J. Palmer, Lieutenant Colonel 25TH Iowa 
 
 Infantry 
 
 The author of this intensely interesting article is one of the railroad 
 commissioners of Iowa and one of the prominent men of the West. 
 Major Davids-on (now dead) of that State, in speaking of Colonel Palmer, 
 said: "Palmer was one of Iowa's best corporals, who belonged to one 
 of Iowa's best companies, in one of Iowa's best regiments. He was 
 afterward captain of the company in which I served, he then being only 
 twenty years of age, and was lieutenant colonel before he was twenty- 
 two years old, commanding the regiment for the greater portion of two 
 years, and gaining for himself and for his regiment the commendation 
 of his superior officers for his ability and bravery shown in battle. His 
 achievements were due solely to a definite sense of duty, and to an in- 
 herited and educated quality of manhood; amid temptations under which 
 too many fell victims, he maintained his purity of character and his depth 
 of Christian life. Since the war, he has been a tower of strength to the 
 younger men; devoted, manly, a Christian soldier, a Christian officer, a 
 Christian citizen." I am very glad to endorse every word of the above, 
 and I do this after an intimate acquaintance with the colonel for more than 
 thirty years. He has another characteristic, and that is modesty, and I 
 consider myself very fortunate in finally getting him to tell this thrilling 
 story for this book. — Editor. 
 
 I ENLISTED in Co. C, 8th lowE Infantry, commanded by- 
 Captain William B. Bell, afterward colonel of the regiment, 
 on July lo, 1861. In the organization of the company I was 
 made third corporal, and went into camp with the company 
 August 10, 1861, at Camp McClellan, Davenport, la., there 
 taking part in the drills and maneuvers of the company and 
 regiment as it was then organized. General Fred Steele being 
 its colonel. Soon afterward we were put on board a trans- 
 
 155 
 
156 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 port and sent south to St. Louis. There we disembarked, and 
 were placed in Benton Barracks, where we were drilled and 
 disciplined thoroughly, preparing us for the front. 
 
 From there we went by railroad west through Jefferson 
 City, and into the interior of the State to Syracuse, where we 
 again disembarked and were organized under General Mc- 
 Kinstry, whose purpose it was to attack the forces of Con- 
 federate General Price. Then we took up our line of march 
 toward Springfield, Mo., following Price's troops in hot pur- 
 suit. We were next ordered to Sedalia, Mo., to go into winter 
 quarters. We remained there till about the month of March, 
 1862, when we returned to St. Louis and were put on board a 
 transport, sent down the river to Cairo and up the Tennessee 
 River to Pittsburg Landing, Tenn., where we disembarked 
 and went into camp in the timber about three- fourths of a 
 mile from the landing. While there we were effectively 
 drilled and inspected preparatory to the impending battle of 
 Shiloh. 
 
 On the morning of April 6, 1862, — a beautiful Sabbath 
 morning, — about daylight, we heard cannonading and musket 
 firing on the outposts, away out beyond the Shiloh church. In 
 a very little while, before we scarcely had time to eat our 
 breakfast, the long roll sounded in our camp, and we were 
 marched out to the front, and, as I recollect it, about nine 
 o'clock we were put on the firing line, near what is now known 
 as the "Hornet's Nest." (This is the name the Confederates 
 give it in their histories.) There we were put in support of a 
 battery which, in a short time, lost every horse and man in it. 
 A detail of men was made from our regiment, who rushed out 
 and pulled the cannon and caissons to the rear to save them 
 from capture by the enemy. 
 
 During the time we occupied that position we received and 
 repulsed several distinctive bayonet charges made by the Con- 
 federates, holding our ground with persistency until later in 
 the day the left wing of our army was driven back, compelling 
 our regiment again to change front in accord with this change; 
 meantime our commanding officer. Colonel James L. Geddes, 
 had his horse shot under him and he was slightly wounded in 
 the knee, but very soon he procured another horse, which he 
 mounted, and we held our position. Along toward the middle 
 
WOUNDED AT SHILOH— LEFT AS DEAD 157 
 
 of the afternoon the left wing of our army, being sorely 
 pressed, was compelled to withdraw a little farther, requiring 
 our regiment again to change front in accord with this change 
 of the position of the left wing. About four or five o'clock in 
 the afternoon our left wing was still giving away; we were 
 compelled to change front and move to the left. 
 
 As nearly as I can now remember, about an hour and a half 
 before sundown I received a sfunshot wound in the left breast 
 which brought me to my knees. Two of my comrades seized 
 me, walked me back a couple of hundred feet, and laid me 
 down behind the roots of a large oak tree that had been blown 
 over, and there administered to my wants as best they could. 
 
 The blood flowed freely from the wound and I soon became 
 unconscious. By this time, as I was told afterward, our 
 troops were closely pressed and compelled to retreat, and I 
 was left for dead in the hands of the enemy. As reported to 
 me afterward, the regiment retreated nearly a fourth of a 
 mile where, together with the 12th and 14th Iowa regiments 
 and some other troops, they were surrounded by the enemy and 
 compelled to surrender. 
 
 Apparently not very long after the regiment had retreated 
 and left me, I became conscious and realized that I was there 
 alone. Hearing a rustling among the leaves, I turned my head 
 and saw the Confederate skirmish line advancing close to me. 
 Having frequently heard during my service that wounded 
 men were bayoneted by the Confederates when found alive, I 
 closed my eyes and feigned myself dead, and the skirmishers 
 passed on, paying no attention to me. Shortly after this, two 
 comrades of my own company, my cousin S. R. Palmer and 
 Corporal Kilgore, knowing the condition in which I was left, got 
 permission from the Confederate lieutenant who had them in 
 charge to pass by where T was left and look for me, the Con- 
 federate lieutenant and three soldiers accompanying them. 
 
 Much to their surprise, they found me alive and able to 
 speak, but not able to get up. They obtained permission of 
 the lieutenant to carry me over into a little field near a log 
 cabin, a little to the right of the position our regiment occupied 
 during the day. There they left me on the ground, the Con- 
 federate ofiicer refusing them permission to remain with me. 
 Leaving a canteen of water with me, my two comrades were 
 
158 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 marched off to the prison pen, never expecting to see me again, 
 and lea\ ing me greatly regretting the tact that, as I thought, 
 they were taken prisoners because they had fooled away too 
 much time with me on the held. I did not know then that the 
 entire regiment and many others were captured. At the time 
 they first ministered to my wants, immediately after I was 
 wounded, they stripped off my coat and cap, leaving nothing 
 on me but my shirt, trousers, shoes, and stockings. 
 
 The little field in wdiich I was left by my comrades was 
 well filled with Confederate soldiers, w-ho had stacked their 
 arms and were exulting over the capture of so many pris- 
 oners. By this time it was nearly dark, and the dampness of 
 the evening made me ver)' chilly. While in the midst of so 
 many Confederate soldiers, a large Irishman wdio wore a Con- 
 federate uniform came to me and asked, "Are yez cowld?" I 
 answ-ered "Yes," and he said, "Here, take this blanket and 
 put it over yez," and he stooped down and gently tucked the 
 blanket around me. It was a good United States blanket he 
 had captured from one of our camps during the day. 
 
 \''ery soon another Confederate soldier, a young fellow 
 about my own age, came along, and noticing my condition, 
 asked, "Would you like to have a drink?" 
 
 I answered in the affirmative, and he handed me a bottle, 
 out of which I took several swallows of what I thought then 
 was about the best linuor I had ever drunk. 
 
 By this time it was getting dark, and I began to wonder 
 where I would spend the night. Seeing a wedge tent standing 
 close to the old cabin and about a hundred feet from me, I re- 
 solved to try to reach it, so, stimulated by the liquor, I got on 
 my hands and knees and crawled to the tent at a snail's pace, 
 dragging my blanket and canteen w^ith me. 
 
 On entering the tent I found it occupied by a wounded Con- 
 federate soldier. Having no one to care for me just then, I 
 proceeded to pull some of the straw from under him to make 
 a pallet for myself. He tried to give the alarm by yelling as 
 loudly as he could, but I insisted that I must have some of the 
 straw, and continued until I had made a fair divide between 
 us, and lay down for the night, covering myself with my 
 blanket. 
 
 Evidently I must have lain unconscious a good part of the 
 
WOUNDED AT SHILOH— LEFT AS DEAD 159 
 
 night, for I only remember two or three things that happened. 
 One was the shelHng of that field by our gunboats, the shells 
 exploding so near me that they made exerything light in the 
 tent. I also noticed that it rained at one time in the night, 
 and I also discovered that they had taken my companion away. 
 When they took him they evidently thought I was worthless, 
 or, considering that I was a "Yank," they thought I did not 
 need any attention. 
 
 Morning came at last, and it gave promise of a beautiful 
 day. The rain was over, the Confederates had left the field, 
 and so far as I could observe there was not a soul within hear- 
 ing. About sun-up, however, a very fine-looking Confederate 
 general officer, accompanied by two or three staff officers, and 
 perhaps half a dozen mounted men as bodyguard, came out of 
 the timber south of the little field. They rode immediately 
 past the tent, where T could see them, but they did not see me. 
 Riding out to the north of the cabin in plain view of the posi- 
 tion we had occupied the day before, they halted, took out 
 their field glasses and proceeded leisurely to view the situation. 
 Scarcely had they taken a good look through their glasses when 
 one of our pieces of artillery dropped a shell among them. 
 They disappeared in quick order, some going around one side 
 of the tent in which I was lying and some the other. A couple 
 of empty saddles went back. Whether the riders were 
 wounded or killed I know not, but the general and his staff 
 and bodyguard retreated into the woods out of sight. This 
 gave me great encouragement. I felt about as much stimu- 
 lated by it as I did the nieht before, after drinking out of the 
 Confederate boy's bottle. 
 
 I had not long to wait, however, until the battle commenced, 
 and such terrific firing I never heard, unless it was during the 
 day before. I am quite sure I kej^t my entire body very close 
 along the ground in that tent. I had no curiosity to get up and 
 go out to see how the battle was raging. Not having any 
 timepiece, I could onlv guess that the battle raged the entire 
 forenoon and I was between the two fires most of the time. 
 As I guessed at it. about noon, or a very little thereafter, the 
 firing ceased on our end of the line, the Confederates dropped 
 back into the timl^er on the south side of the field, and our 
 troops into the timber on the north side of the field. I could 
 
i6o THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 still hear musketry and cannonading way down the river, which 
 I supposed afterward was Buell's command going into position. 
 Having an abhorrence of being made a prisoner of war, I 
 felt that now possibly was the time to make my escape. Crawl- 
 ing to the tent door, I managed, with the aid of the tent pole, 
 to drav/ myself up on my feet, and, steadying myself by the 
 pole, I stepped outside the tent and commenced to take obser- 
 vations of the situation both north and south of me. In an 
 instant everything disappeared from my view; for how long 
 I do not know. When I recovered consciousness I found 
 that I had fallen headlong outside the tent, with my nose run 
 into the ground. Never having fainted in my life before, I 
 came to a full realization of what it was to faint. I crawled 
 back into the tent very much discouraged. After resting a 
 little while, the feeling came to me again that I must not be 
 made a prisoner, and I determined to try it again. Pulling 
 myself up by the tent pole as before, I stood a few seconds to 
 see what the effect would be, and noticed my eyesight leaving 
 me again. Realizing what that meant, I dropped down to the 
 ground, when my eyesight returned. Then I realized that I 
 could not stand nor walk, and so I concluded that I must, after 
 the fashion of the snake, crawl. Proceeding on this theory, I 
 was able to crawl fifteen or twenty feet when my eyesight 
 failed me again. I dropped flat on the ground and it instantly 
 returned. Persevering, however, I made another advance of 
 about the same distance with the same results. I kept up the 
 process of crawling and resting, going as rapidly as I could in 
 the direction where I thought our troops were. I presume it 
 was nearly if not quite past the middle of the afternoon when 
 I reached our skirmish line. There I found a good big oak 
 tree and crawled behind it, where I felt perfectly secure in 
 the company of my friends again. Then I took a good long 
 rest. By this time it was very nearly night of Monday, the 
 second day of the battle. While lying on the safe side of this 
 tree a very funn}'^ incident occurred in the regiment which 
 occupied the second line. A member of the rank and file of 
 the regiment stepped forward some thirty feet, stopping behind 
 a large tree. As he stood there, the Confederate artillery 
 began firing, in an effort to shell the troops out of the timber 
 preparatory to a charge that w^as made afterward. While this 
 
WOUNDED AT SHILOH— LEFT AS DEAD i6i 
 
 soldier was standing by this tree, a shell struck it about eight 
 or ten feet above his head, knocking a big "juggle" from the 
 tree, which fell to the ground with considerable force right by 
 his side. Frightened by this he dropped his gun and, whirl- 
 ing around toward the rear, started to run as fast as his legs 
 could carry him. He ran through his own regiment, knocking 
 out a file of men, and kept on with all his speed toward the 
 rear. His officers yelled to him to halt, but he paid no atten- 
 tion to them and ran on out of sight, and so far as I know is 
 running yet, for I never heard of him again. The incident 
 caused the entire regiment to break out in a roar of laughter. 
 
 Immediately after this the Confederates came across the 
 field from which I had crawled, yelling at the top of their 
 voices, their artillery throwing shells among our men in front 
 of them. The}' made a very violent charge, but did not succeed 
 in breaking through the first line, and were repulsed with 
 great loss. 
 
 You can imagine my feelings while this charge was going 
 on. I felt as though they were going to break through, and I 
 would again be a prisoner, but our boys were on the alert and 
 gave them a warm reception, repulsing them fully as fast as 
 they came, with fewer numbers. After this charge T felt as 
 though I was not as safe as I might be, and proceeded to crawl 
 through the second line. Here I came in contact with the am- 
 bulance that had been busy all day gathering up the wounded 
 of the day before and taking them to hospitals. I tried to 
 persuade an ambulance driver to take me into his ambulance, 
 but he said he did not know me, and was "hauling for his own 
 regiment." 
 
 About this time the old 2d Iowa, grand regiment that it 
 was. came past where I was lying at the root of a tree, on the 
 double (|uick. When Co. H, with whose members I was well 
 acquainted, saw me they cried out, "There's Dave Palmer," 
 and two or three of them stopped with me. I pointed out the 
 ambulance driver, away across in the timber, who refused to 
 help me in his ambulance and take me to the hospital. They 
 immediately ordered him around with his ambulance and arbi- 
 trarily and with much force put me in the ambulance, and I 
 was taken direct to the camp of the 7th Iowa, where I was 
 placed in a Sibley tent along with many other wounded men. 
 
i62 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 Co. H of this 7th Iowa, having been organized in our county, 
 I felt at hberty to send up to that company and ask for help. 
 One of my intimate friends from my own town, who was left 
 in camp sick that morning, came down, and when he found 
 who it was, secured a towel, bucket of water, and a good light 
 suit of clothes. I was stripped and bathed and dressed in the 
 clothes and put to bed on a pallet of straw for the night, where 
 I rested very comfortably. The next day I was taken to my 
 OAvn camp hospital in the 8th Iowa, and there received the 
 attention of our own assistant surgeon, Dr. A. W, Hoff- 
 meister, who was a very good friend of the boys, and very 
 attentive to their wants. 
 
 A little less than a week later, while lying in this tent hos- 
 pital, the subclavian artery burst about an inch from my heart, 
 causing a flow of blood through the wound that would have 
 taken my life in a very few minutes, as neither I nor anyone in 
 the tent knew what to do. Dr. Hoffmeister was in his tent 
 not twenty feet away. He was called at once and stopped the 
 flow of blood instantly by pressing his fingers down behind the 
 collar bone. He secured a man to take his place by turns, and 
 kept this compress continually until the next day, when I was 
 hauled to the hospital boat at Pittsburg Landing, where the 
 operation of taking up the subclavian artery was performed 
 by Dr. Aspell of the regular army. The result of this opera- 
 tion destroyed the section of this artery in my left arm, com- 
 pletely paralyzing it, so I had, of necessity, to carry it in a 
 sling to keep it out of my way. 
 
 From there I was brought on this hospital boat to Keokuk, 
 la., and transferred to the Soldiers' Hospital there, where I 
 received the kind attention of the management. About the 
 middle of June it was thought I was able to be furloughed 
 home. By the first of July, I was able to get up and walk 
 around a little, and from that time on I built up very rapidly. 
 
 By the middle of July I got a commission from Governor 
 Kirkwood to recruit a company under the call for 300,000 
 men that had been made by the President. By the middle of 
 August the company was filled up and organized; I was elected 
 its captain and we went into camp as Co. A, 25th Iowa In- 
 fantry, September i, 1862, I with my arm still in a sling and 
 
WOUNDED AT SHILOH— LEFT AS DEAD 163 
 
 perfectly useless, although otherwise I enjoyed good health 
 and had almost regained my usual physical strength. 
 
 I was more fortunate in my service in the 25th Iowa. I re- 
 ceived only two wounds during the entire three years; one, a 
 slight wound in the foot, at Arkansas Post, where we cap- 
 tured 7000 prisoners; the other a slight wound in the knee, 
 received at Taylor's Ridge, Ga. Neither of these wounds 
 kept me off duty. I had good health and was not absent from 
 my regiment twenty- four hours from the date of its muster 
 into service in 1862, until its muster out in June, 1865. 
 
 Note. — During about two years of this time, Colonel Palmer was lieu- 
 tenant colonel of his regiment and in command of it. — Editor. 
 
HISTORY OF "SPY" COMPANY, RAISED AT 
 FAYETTEVILLE, ARK. 
 
 By Captain A. V. Reiff, C. S. A. 
 
 The company about which the following story tells is not mentioned in 
 any official report or in any history, although it took part in the skirmish 
 at Dug Springs and the battle of Oak Hill. The writer claims that the 
 information furnished by a part of this company saved the Conferedate 
 Army from defeat at Oak Hill. Captain Reiff still has the muster roll, 
 containing more than one hundred names, with full description of each 
 man, and the value of the horses, arms, and equipment furnished by each 
 soldier. This muster roll is endorsed as follows in General McCulloch's 
 own writing: 
 
 "This company has been in my service as a spy company since July, 
 and has done much valuable service, and is now honorably discharged in 
 camp near Springfield, Mo., August 13, 1861." 
 
 "Signed, Ben. McCulloch, 
 "Brigadier General Commanding." 
 — Editor. 
 
 Early in May, 1861, I was elected captain of a cavalry 
 company raised in Washington County, Arkansas, about 100 
 strong, the men armed and equipped with the best horses 
 and guns, mostly shot-guns, to be had. I reported by tele- 
 graph to General Ben. McCulloch, then at Fort Smith, on his 
 way to assume command of the department. He accepted our 
 services and ordered us into Missouri at once, to give protection 
 to Southern men who were being run out of Missouri by 
 Union men. Fayetteville and Fort Smith were full of refu- 
 gees. 
 
 Arriving at Keetzville, Mo., we were well received and fed 
 by the citizens. We went on to Cassville, the next county 
 seat, where we learned of a Union company camped at Big 
 
 164 
 
HISTORY OF "SPY" COMPANY 165 
 
 Spring, fifteen miles north. After a night's ride we sur- 
 rounded their camp at dayhght to find they had just leti; we 
 saw several squads on the prairie, and chased them a good 
 part of the day, and upon our return to Coffeyville a great 
 hue and cry was raised about Arkansas troops invading Mis- 
 souri. State rights advocates offered rewards for all Arkan- 
 sas soldiers, especially the commander, dead or alive. We re- 
 turned to Cassville, scouting in all directions, but the Union 
 men had all left. The refugees returned and soon three com- 
 panies were organized. Captains Louderdale of Barry County, 
 Lotspeach and Campbell of Springfield reported to me for 
 duty. 
 
 General McCulloch sent Colonel Dandridge McCray with 
 orders to muster us all into service. We were mustered m as 
 State troops. General Lyon had reached Springfield with a 
 large force of United States troops. General Sigel was at 
 Mt. Vernon, a few miles west. Soon we got orders to raid or 
 make a demonstration toward the Federal forces, thirty or 
 forty miles north, and we took the Mt. Vernon road with four 
 companies. When within five or six miles of Mt. Vernon, 
 traveling in the rain, we stopped to feed our horses, sending 
 Lieutenant Isaac Taylor with ten or twelve men up the road 
 a mile or so on picket. V/hile eating a snack we heard Tay- 
 lor's guns. Being close to the enemy, it created great excite- 
 ment. Bridling, mounting and forming was the order, with 
 great confusion. However, it was soon done. 
 
 Colonel McCray mounted without bridling or unhitching 
 and called on a soldier to unhitch his horse. The soldier said, 
 "By God, do it yourself." Later a good laugh was had on 
 the colonel. As soon as we had formed we sent a squad up 
 the road to see what was the matter. Lieutenant Taylor re- 
 ported that his guns were wet and he shot them off for fresh 
 loads. I mention this to show how little we knew of war. 
 
 The enemy hearing the guns, and possibly the report that we 
 were the advance guard of 30,000 soldiers. General Sigel 
 hastily left Mt. Vernon for Springfield, leaving many supplies 
 and stores. This we learned too late to effect a capture. Re- 
 turning to Cassville we did scouting and picketing till Gen- 
 erals McCulloch and Price came up on a march to Springfield. 
 
 The General said he could not accept State troops, but would 
 
i66 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 receive the company for the campaign as a spy company, and 
 ordered me to tal<e the advance when near Dug Spring, five 
 miles in advance, and we had quite a skirmish. 
 
 On August 1st the army reached McCuIloch's store and 
 camped on Crane Creek, about twenty miles southwest of 
 Springfield. My company was in advance four or five miles, 
 with Lieutenant Reagan and about twenty men on picket a 
 mile or so in advance, and near Dug Spring. On that morning 
 I heard artillery open on him, and, starting our two wagons 
 back, hastened to the lieutenant's relief. 
 
 Here I will digress to mention a matter that many old sol- 
 diers may have observed. We had two grocery bullies that we 
 thought would eat the Yankees alive. They took charge of 
 the wagon, whipping and slashing the mules into a wild run. 
 only stopping when headquarters were reached, their arrival 
 creating great commotion in camp. I concluded that a man 
 who had to have whiskv to get mad enough to fight made a 
 poor soldier, further experience confirming this view. 
 
 When I reached the lieutenant, he was on a hill with a 
 long valley in front, prairie along the road and to the left, and 
 somewhat brushy ground to the right. I could plainly see 
 quite a line of Federals to the left of the road about a mile 
 away. Lieutenant Reagan said. "We fought them with small 
 arms until they brought up the big guns, and the boys couldn't 
 stand that." On this hill Lieutenant Reagan delivered quite a 
 patriotic speech. I moved forward one-half mile to the right 
 in the brush. I dismounted eight or ten men who had car- 
 bines and ordered them forward in skirmish line. Very soon 
 they were engaged with the Federal skirmishers. We were in 
 line and close enough for balls to pass us ; it was quite funny 
 to see the boys dodge and see their white faces. This was 
 their first experience in war. 
 
 After a time. Colonel Rains (afterward general) came up 
 with three or four hundred Missouri cavalry, and took posi- 
 tion on the prairie to the left of the road. I had sent three 
 of the best mounted men to the enemy's rear. They reported 
 thnt they had reached the road entirely in the enemy's rear, and 
 said it was a very large force, infantry, cavalry and artillery, 
 with a brass band. I sent one of the men to General McCul- 
 loch with a note saying that I thought General Lyon's whole 
 
HISTORY OF "SPY" COMPANY 167 
 
 force was in my front. As those three men came back they 
 ran into the Federal left line of battle one-half mile in front. 
 
 About this time Colonel Rains sent Colonel Cravens to say 
 that if I would attack on the right he would on the left. I 
 sent word that I would do so with one of the three scouts as 
 guide. Riding forward as close as was prudent, we fronted 
 into line; dismounting, I strung the men out in single file, 
 eight to ten feet apart. I passed along the line and told the 
 men as we were armed with shot-guns I would take them up 
 close before firing, if they would hold their fire; I would fire 
 the si2;nal gun, being an expert with shot-gun and pistol, and 
 carrying both. 
 
 Moving forward, through scattering blackjacks and tall 
 grass, passing down a long slope with a long valley parallel 
 with our line in front, the enemy fired on us from an abrupt 
 rise ten to twelve feet high, 150 yards distant. We all went 
 flat in the grass; firing partially ceased and I rose on my 
 knees to take observations. "Zip, zip, zip," came the bullets, 
 and rising, I shouted, "Charge 'em; go right into 'em!" and 
 away we went under a hot fire. When within eighty or one 
 hundred yards, on the top of an abrupt descent, some soldiers 
 on our left fired, and the remainder halted and fired. I, with 
 several others, only halted about halfway between the two 
 lines, intending to go on top of the bank. I could see my men 
 plainly, but not the enemy, whose fire had ceased. My men 
 shouted, "Run, you devils, run !" Soon I heard a tremendous 
 thundering on top of the ridge and over it dashed Co. C, old 
 U. S. Dragoons, with drawn sabers, all mounted on sorrel 
 horses, and in good line. They passed twenty or thirty steps 
 to my left, I being rather on the right of the company, which 
 was still on the small ridge. I watched them pass through 
 the thin line, cutting and slashing. Only one dragoon halted; 
 he and a soldier had a personal combat, the "Reb" holding to 
 a sapling, dodging and striking with his gun. The dragoon, 
 with saber drawn, his horse on his haunches and trying the 
 other side of the bush, soon dashed after his comrades toward 
 our horses, neither being hurt. He was too far away for me 
 to shoot, and I had not fired, luckily. 
 
 My company ran for their horses. Some of my men had 
 run back from me when the firing commenced, leaving four 
 
i68 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 of us. The dragoons got somewhat scattered. Just as we 
 four started back I saw ten or twelve dragoons passing in a 
 gallop in fours with a sergeant in front. They saw us and 
 wheeled down upon us. When within thirty or forty feet the 
 
 sergeant, in a very loud voice shouted : "Surrender, you 
 
 cowardly Rebels, surrender!" I shot him with sixteen 
 
 buckshot, and he fell directly in front of his squad. With the 
 other barrel I almost punched the gun against another, lifting 
 liim clear out of his saddle. I then shot three others with a 
 na\y pistol, almost touching each one with the muzzle. 
 Mitchell and Smiley each said they shot a soldier, and they 
 ran, leaving Boyd and me alone. I still had three shots left, 
 and turned entirely around, but no Federals were in sight ex- 
 cept on the ground. I saw some horses with empty saddles, 
 galloping up the hill. I also saw that Boyd was alone with 
 me pnd no one else of either side in sight. 
 
 Starting to run. I saw a bright saber by one of the bodies 
 of the dragoons and picked it up to carry it off; as I did this 
 his arm came up with it. I thought he was grasping it and 
 thrust it through his body. As I let go I saw it was fastened 
 on his wrist. I said to Boyd, "Get that saber for me," which 
 he did. I think they all had their sabers dangling from their 
 waists, with pistols in hand ; but we were too quick for them, 
 for I did not see one of them fire. I saw one soldier try to 
 shoot Boyd, within three feet of the muzzle of his pistol, but 
 his saber swung it past him and I shot him before he could 
 recover his pistol. 
 
 I told Boyd to save the pistol and he stopped and got it. It 
 was brass mounted and marked Co. C. U. S. A. Boyd saw 
 some of the wounded later in Springfield, and was told that 
 Devlin was the name of the sergeant. Boyd said he fired six 
 shots and I fired five and Mitchell and Smith one each — thir- 
 teen in all. 
 
 We ran toward our horses and met Lieutenant Reagan, 
 moving forward with mounted company. I had hitched my 
 horse when dismounting and he had broken loose. A soldier 
 dismounted and told me to take his horse. Looking back, I 
 saw some men leading my horse. I told the lieutenant I was 
 almost famished for water, and for him to move forward 
 quickly and gather up all the arms and Mitchell's and vSmiley's 
 
HISTORY OF "SPY" COMPANY 169 
 
 bodies. "Why, they are here. They reported you killed," he 
 replied. 
 
 The Federals had moved forward a battery and at close 
 range had opened on the company as the latter was gathering 
 up the arms. Here they came pell-mell and nearly ran over 
 me. I stopped them about one mile distant and they went into 
 camp in good order. The damage during the day was one 
 man partially scalped with a saber, one dead from exhaustion, 
 one missing, never heard from, and a few slightly wounded. 
 
 Colonel Rains made a feeble attack on horseback, but fell 
 back in bad order before we left the field. General McCulloch 
 made admirable preparations for battle on the ridge near the 
 camp. That night a large scouting party of Missouri cavalry 
 rode into General Lyon's command from the north, thinking 
 it was McCulloch and Price's commands. From my old camp 
 of the night before, Lyon hastily retreated without eating a 
 cooked breakfast. He must have thought we were trymg to 
 cut him off or surround him. We had several false alarms 
 about this time, caused mainly by Missourians. 
 
 General Lyon followed us and camped that night on the 
 same ground I had left in the morning. Early on the third 
 day, as I moved forv^^ard, 1 found evidence of a very hasty 
 retreat, much cooked food, including roast beef, being left. 
 A few miles further on my men were charged by the dragoons, 
 one man being wounded. We followed, and that night 
 camped on Wilson's Creek, close to Gibson's old mill on top 
 of a ridge, near where Totten's Federal battery stood on the 
 loth, the day of the battle. 
 
 The next morning I was ordered on a scout. General Mc- 
 Culloch said : 'T will send Frank Robinson with you. He is 
 well acquainted about Springfield and knows just where the 
 Federal pickets are. Go as close as you can without disturbing 
 them and then turn him loose." When Robinson said we were 
 within one-half mile of the pickets and two miles from Spring- 
 field, he took to the brush and T turned to the right and crossed 
 Wilson's Creek below and south of our encampment about 
 eight miles, passing through our entire camp to headquarters. 
 This was the same road that General Sigel took later 10 get 
 in our rear. As ordered by General McCulloch, I made a 
 map of all the forks and crossroads on this trip, which I gave 
 
170 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 the General with my report. The General said, "You have 
 been on very active service for some time. Move to the rear 
 and rest yourselves and horses." I moved southwest about a 
 mile or more to an old religious campground and shed, with 
 a fine spring of water. Later this was used as a hospital. 
 
 At nine o'clock at night August 9, 1861, I reported with my 
 company and three days' rations at General McCulloch's head- 
 quarters; it was quite dark and raining. The General told me 
 to dismount, and furnishing me a tent, said to me 1 must 
 keep my ammunition dry, and come to his tent. I found the 
 General and Colonel Mcintosh with a pencil sketch of Spring- 
 field, showing the location of the Federal forces, and three 
 roads leading from our encampment. 
 
 The General said, "Flere is a plan of battle. At daylight, 
 or before, I want to be here on the road you scouted, at the 
 point where Robinson left you." This was to the right of 
 the main road about two miles from Springfield. He said 
 General Price would take the main road ; General Rains, with 
 cavalry, would take the left, via the Pond Spring road. He 
 wanted to know if I could pilot his command to this point. I 
 said that I thought I could with the map I had given him, 
 although it was very dark, as I crossed the creek on a byway 
 coming down, and I had lost the road, but found it by lighting 
 a candle. General McCulloch said we were to move at nine 
 o'clock, but as it was raining would delay moving and watch 
 the weather. He said he had ammunition enough for only 
 one battle, and his men were carrying it in their pockets, with 
 no cartridge boxes. My company was in the same fix. He 
 said I should go back to my company, which was fifty yards 
 distant, and be ready to move at a moment's notice. 
 
 Tt continued showery, and I sat against a tree and slept 
 until one or two o'clock. Then the General sent for me, say- 
 ing we would not move that night, and that I should return 
 to my camp, leaving him one lieutenant and twenty well- 
 mounted men. He said he had just learned that there was a 
 movement of the enemy westward on the Pond Spring road 
 and that he wanted the lieutenant to be on the high prairie 
 at daylight in sight of Springfield, and let him know what it 
 meant. Lieutenant Bill Buck Brown (as he was familiarly 
 called), a gallant and daring officer who had joined me from 
 
HISTORY OF "SPY" COMPANY 171 
 
 Benton County, I detailed with twenty men, and returned to 
 my camp about one and a half miles southeast on the old 
 religious campground. 
 
 About sunrise, perhaps a little earlier. Brown and his squad 
 dashed into my camp, saying that the enemy would soon be 
 upon us. Later, he gave me an account of his scout. He said 
 that after receiving instructions, he took to the left of the 
 main road, went toward the Pond Spring road and sav^ no 
 pici<.ets, and soon struck the prairie. It was so dark that he 
 could not keep the road, but he kept the direction. When four 
 or five miles out he heard wagons off to his right. Going 
 closer, dismounting and creeping up quite close, he heard the 
 sound of many wheels and a confused noise a long way off, 
 both in front of the wagons and in the rear. He said that he 
 knew it was the Federal army, moving toward our camp, and 
 that it flashed into his mind what the movement of the enemy, 
 which the General had mentioned, meant. Mounting, he 
 dashed back m a gallop without a road. Just as he struck 
 the brush, about one and one-half miles from the first troops 
 and two miles from the General's headciuarters, he ran into 
 a regiment of .soldiers lying down. They shouted something 
 in a Dutch brogue. It created quite a noise and confusion. 
 He thought a few shots were fired; but, dashing forward 
 through and over them, made all haste for our camps. 
 
 As he dashed through Colonel Mcintosh's regiment of 
 Arkansas cavalry, the horses still saddled, with just light 
 enough to see men and horses, he shouted, "Ihe enemy is 
 almost in your camp." Some made light of it. As he rode 
 up the hill to the General's headquarters, Colonel Mcintosh 
 met him and said, "What now. Brown — another Missouri 
 humbug?" "No, not by a damned sight. Colonel, this is no 
 humbug this time; in less than an hour the whole Federal 
 army will be in our camp." The lieutenant then told him 
 what he had seen. 
 
 General McCulloch came out of his tent. In reply to the 
 General's inquiry Brown said, "I met the Federal army on the 
 prairie, coming this way, four or five miles distant. I dis- 
 mounted in the dark and crawled up close enough to convince 
 me that it was artillery and a large force of infantry. They 
 seemed to be trying to keep quiet, but I could hear a con- 
 
172 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 fused noise a long distance, both front and rear, and the sound 
 of many wheels, which I took for artillery. I then dashed 
 for camp. Just as I struck the brush one and a half miles 
 from here, I ran through a regiment of Dutch lying down. 
 It was too dark to see well, but I was challenged in the Dutch 
 brogue." Brown said he saw the General's face blanch, and 
 that no doubt the General now knew what that movement 
 meant. 
 
 The General called an aid-de-camp, and ordered him to tell 
 General Price that the enemy was almost within our camp. 
 The aid-de-camp called a servant to catch his horse. "Catch 
 him yourself," said the General, swearing, "and be quick 
 about it." 
 
 The General ordered Brown to gallop to Woodruff's bat- 
 tery, one hundred yards distant, and tell him to get ready for 
 action ; then he countermanded his order and told Brown to 
 report to his company and started for the battery himself. 
 
 Colonel Mcintosh still seemed skeptical, and halted Brown 
 and made him go over it all again. Brown got mad, and said, 
 "By damn. Colonel, it is no humbug this time," and started 
 for my camp, one and a half miles southwest. He thinks he 
 was detained fifteen or twenty minutes at headquarters. He 
 said as he passed Woodruff's battery, all were ready for action. 
 I think it was near sunrise when Brown notified me. 
 
 I shouted to the men to fall in line where we dismounted. 
 I had pulled off a pair of tight-fitting boots, the first time for 
 several nights ; I thought I would never get them on. I fell 
 over the benches in the straw several times, but finally suc- 
 ceeded in getting them on. As I mounted, the company was 
 formed and Lyon's First Battery fired up the creek, perhaps 
 one and one-half miles north of me. About the same time 
 Sigel's battery opened on Colonel Churchill's Arkansas cav- 
 alry regiment in our rear, as the men were eating breakfast, 
 driving them out of camp, leaving their horses. About one 
 and one-half miles southeast of me and down the creek, one 
 of Lyon's six-pound balls, fired at Colonel Rains' men, came 
 bounding along, passing my company and going on as far as 
 I could see. I started in a gallop for General McCulloch's 
 headquarters. 
 
 In the Fayetteville road was a part of Colonel Churchill's 
 
HISTORY OF "SPY" COMPANY 173 
 
 remnant of cavalry, forming on foot, with their flag, and their 
 bugler blowing the rally with all his might, and the soldiers 
 falling into line from the brush, leaving their horses. Gen- 
 eral Sigel had completely surprised our rear, opening on Col- 
 onel Churchill's men as they ate breakfast. 
 
 Some of Churchill's men later told me they saw them just 
 across the creek, but thought they vi^ere our own men. This 
 was about half a mile east of where they were now forming. 
 
 I rode into the brush, dismounting, to fight with them on 
 foot. As I reached the road they were gone. I learned later 
 that they went in the direction of Bloody Hill, General Lyon 
 attacked. I remounted and formed on the edge of a field. 
 The battery firing ceased in the rear. I heard little of small 
 arms from that direction. The road was full of camp fol- 
 lowers, drivers on mules, and a few soldiers fleeing; but I 
 could not stop one. A furious engagement, both artillery and 
 small arms, had been raging up the creek about three-(iuarters 
 of a mile. After I mounted, I looked north and saw Colonel 
 Green's regiment of Texas cavalry formed on the creek three 
 or four hundred yards north; just beyond, on the hill, was 
 General Price's Arkansas regiment of infantry and a battery 
 of artillery, shining brightly in the sun. I think it was Reed's 
 battery. A battery of artillery dashed into the field 150 yards 
 east of me, ready for action. Not being positive, I sent Joe 
 Holcomb to find out who they were. He was captured and 
 footed it with Sigel's troops in their rapid retreat to Spring- 
 field, via Pond Spring west. He was a slender, weakly man, 
 and liad clerked all his life. In telling of his trip he said that 
 his legs appeared to weigh a thousand pounds, and that he 
 could never have made it if a Dutchman had not prodded 
 him often in the rear with a bayonet. He said he ivonld never 
 fight with Sigel any jnore. This battery opened on the Texans 
 with canister in open field. T never saw such scattering of 
 shot as they bounded along, raising the dust. It beat any 
 shot-.i^un I ever saw. The Texans moved forward to General 
 Price's and General ]\TcCulloch's headquarters. As the 
 Texans crowded the road toward Bloody Hill, I fell in their 
 rear. 
 
 About this time Reid's battery opened on Sigel's bnttery 
 with his infantry in column in the rear. General McCulloch, 
 
174 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 with the Louisiana — Colonel Hebert's — Regiment, and per- 
 haps others, charged this battery, capturing it and routing the 
 infantry. Reid's battery plowed through this battery and 
 directly into their infantry, demoralizing their whole outfit, 
 and this was the last of Sigel. Some of our ow'n men were 
 killed by Reid's battery, and some clubbing of guns as the 
 two infantry forces met. General Sigel and a few officers 
 returned to Springfield by the road they came, while his forces 
 passed entirely around us, not trying to join Lyon. 
 
 When the Texans reached the brow of the hill, where the 
 fight had been raging all the morning, they filed to the left 
 under the brow of the hill, which was eight to ten feet high, 
 and formed a line of battle. As I was in the rear, this put 
 me on the right in the line not far from and to the left of 
 where Lyon was killed. Firing had ceased at this time and I 
 rode up the small rise, as did several Texas officers, and 
 could see the Federal line standing at order arms, through 
 scattering blackjacks, about 150 yards distant. 
 
 I saw an officer, with a large brass emblem on the upturned 
 brim of his hat. He was riding a fine, large gray horse and 
 passing leisurely between the two lines from our right to left. 
 Two of our Texans dashed forward and after demanding 
 surrender fired at him with their pistols and took him pris- 
 oner. W ho he was I never learned. 
 
 I dismounted eight or ten men who had carbines, and 
 ordered them on top and to commence firing. A few shots 
 were fired, with no response from the Federal line. Just then 
 General McCulloch dashed up in our rear and ordered me to 
 fall in behind him with my company, and to "keep close up," 
 then, dashing along in the rear of the Texans, he ordered 
 Colonel Green to fall in the rear of this company and keep 
 close up. We galloped south to the next ridge, five or six rods 
 distant, and formed near the top on the south side. The Gen- 
 eral told me to stay there until he sent for me, or until I was 
 driven away. He then passed rapidly along the Texas line 
 and. I presume, ga\e Colonel Green the same orders, as we 
 all remained there till the fight was over. With other officers, 
 I rode up on top and soon saw a long line of infantry cross- 
 ing from the east to the west side of the creek, apparently 
 
HISTORY OF "SPY" COMPANY 175 
 
 from General Pearce's position, and they were joined by 
 others on the west side, making quite a long line in column. 
 
 Approaching the ridge we had just vacated, and to the left 
 of the position I had pre\ iously occupied, 1 could see our sol- 
 diers plainly and some Federal officers riding back and forth 
 through open spaces on the level plateau. Our colunm, as it 
 passed the brow of the hill, struck the Federal left in the shape 
 of a V. Firing commenced. Our forces faced to the right 
 and moved to the brow of the hill and firing followed all 
 along the line. As I watched the fight, I could not help 
 thinking that this was a last desperate effort, and if not suc- 
 cessful the General would know where his Texans were. 
 
 I could see the flash of guns in both lines, but nothing else 
 for the smoke. Many bullets passed our line. I saw no artil- 
 lery move with our line. After quite a long time the firing 
 ceased, our forces remaining in position. I could not see any 
 Federals. This was about noon, I think. After waiting some 
 time for orders, I rode forward without any, leavmg the 
 Texans there. Just before reaching the Federal right I saw 
 Major Ward, of Colonel Carroll's regiment of cavalry, lying 
 alone in the sun, wounded in the leg. I dismounted two men 
 and drew him into the sharle. leaving a canteen of water. 
 Moving forward, I passed along the Federal line of battle 
 from their right to left. I saw many dead, no wounded, many 
 fat Dutchmen being as black in the face as negroes. I then 
 followed their line of retreat into tlie next valley, perhaps 
 half a mile. I met some Federal ambulances with yellow flags 
 coming back. It was said they got General Lyon's body. I 
 moved back, thinking I had best report to the General, When 
 I reached my camp (near Texan's position) I found shed 
 and building used as hospital. I saw several arms and legs 
 cut off and dumped into a pile. I sent a courier to report to 
 General A^cCulloch that T was at my old camp. 
 
 General Sigel's whereabouts seemed to be unknown. It was 
 only known that his forces had passed entirely around us in 
 the direction of General Lyon and the firing ceased. He 
 thought perhaps they were reforming for another attack. 
 Later it was known that General Sigel was not with his forces, 
 but with a few officers returning by the road he had come 
 from Springfield. We did not then know that Lyon was 
 
176 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 killed, and had these facts been known, there was enough 
 cavalry which had scarcely fired a shot to have captured the 
 outfit. The enemy made no delay at Springfield, moving on 
 toward Rolla. Scarcity of ammunition may have been another 
 cause, as General McCulloch had told me the night before that 
 he had only enough for a fight and that his army had no cart- 
 ridge boxes. He gave that, and the rain, as reasons for not 
 marching on Springfield as intended. Within a few days we 
 were discharged and returned to our homes. 
 
 General Price evidently had notice in time from General 
 McCulloch to put a regiment or two at the brow of the hill, 
 and with the prompt assistance of Captain W^oodruff's bat- 
 tery, held General Lyon's forces on a level plateau until about 
 all his Missouri forces, with Colonel Churchill's Arkansas regi- 
 ment, came on the scene. Had General Lyon, with his forces 
 and batteries, reached the little crest of the hill, they would 
 have commanded the entire valley and in good range of our 
 encampment and the valley, and this would have been an easV 
 victory, in my opinion. Colonel Mcintosh must have been 
 ready when the first gun was fired, as he quickly drove Lieu- 
 tenant Plummer's Federal forces from the east side of the 
 creek back into Lyon's command on the west side. Hebert's 
 Louisianians must have had timely notice and been ready for 
 action, as with a charge they captured Sigel's battery, and 
 with Reid's battery routed his infantry. 
 
 It was fortunate that Woodruff's and Reid's batteries were 
 located just where they were and fired without moving, as 
 this saved our army. These batteries could not have been 
 better placed. 
 
 So, as I view it, Lieutenant Brown's information, furnished 
 an hour in advance, and Captain Woodruff's prompt answer 
 to the Federal batteries, bringing on an artillery duel across 
 the valley over part of our troops, and holding the Federal 
 batteries from advancing, saved our army from utter rout 
 and gave us the victory. 
 
HEROISM OF JAMES KEELAN 
 By W. W. Stringfield^ ist Tennessee Cavalry, C. S. A. 
 
 There was no more heroic incident of the Civil War than 
 the defense of Strawberry Plains bridge, East Tennessee, by 
 citizen James Keelan, about December i, 1861. 
 
 Keelan was a native East Tennessean. a man from humble 
 life, of full Anglo-Saxon blood, and while very quiet and un- 
 assuming, even up to diffidence, only needed to arouse the 
 "sleeping lion" to show a true hero. 
 
 Keelan was employed as the watchman at the bridge over 
 Holston River, He was required to follow every train or 
 engine across the bridge for fear of fire. This was about the 
 beginning of the enforcement of the Conscript law in East 
 Tennessee, and that was in about the center of several strong 
 Union counties. 
 
 While some threats had been made, no one seriously thought 
 of a plot to burn all the bridges in East Tennessee that night. 
 
 The bridge was about two hundred yards in the rear, north 
 of the residence of the late Rev. Thomas Stringfellow, oc- 
 cupied by his widow and one daughter and colored servants. 
 The writer of this had been absent for several mr nths as a 
 private in the ist Tennessee Cavalry, in the army of General 
 F. K. Zollicoffer, over in Kentucky, and on that eventful 
 night at about ten o'clock had arrived at home, and, after 
 traveling all the way from Cumberland Gap, was soundly 
 sleeping. 
 
 Keelan was resting, but not asleep, in his bunk at the end 
 of the bridge on an abutment five or six feet ofif the ground. 
 
 About midnight a company of thirty or forty men, led by 
 Captain Undurdown, afterward lieutenant colonel of the 
 13th Tennessee, United States Army, not for a moment sus- 
 pecting the presence of the guard, arrived, with the intention 
 
 177 
 
178 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 of destroying the bridge. Matches and suitable torchlight 
 materials were produced and a light made; instantly Keelan, 
 single-handed and alone, sprang forth among them with knife 
 and gun, and after a personal hand-to-hand conflict, drove 
 them off, seriously wounding their leader and several others, 
 being himself desperately wounded, his left hand cut off at 
 the thumb, shot five or six times in both arms, one leg, and 
 right breast, and otherwise severely injured. 
 
 Several of them got up in his bunk and were all around 
 him ; he never asked for nor gave quarter, but cut and knocked 
 them off the abutment, knocking down and out every light or 
 torch made to burn the bridge. They finally left, and he, after 
 waiting some time for a renewal of the attack, managed, in 
 some way, to reach mv house and give the alarm, first saying, 
 "Willie, they have killed me, but I saved the bridge." 
 
 These became historic words and were published all over 
 the South in a few weeks. I at once ran out toward the 
 bridge, with gun and pistol to protect further the structure, 
 but the enemy had gone. Keelan was at once kindly cared 
 for, was pensioned for life by the railroad company, and died 
 at Bristol, Tenn., many years ago, respected by all. 
 
A STORY OF ASHLAND, VA. 
 By S. N. Hinman, United States Volunteer Cavalry 
 
 History tells of great battles and of the thousands slain 
 and wounded, but many little affairs, while not known in his- 
 tory, meant very much to wives and mothers whose husbands 
 or boys never came back. 
 
 It was the first day of June, 1864, when the First Brigade of 
 the Third Division of the Cavalry Corps broke camp near Ber- 
 muda Hundred at an early hour, with orders to strike a small 
 station called Ashland, on the Virginia Central Railroad, de- 
 stroy the stores there, and tear up the track. It was afternoon 
 when the advance struck the town, which proved to be quite 
 strongly defended. The town, or station, was on a level plat 
 of land in the midst of a dense pine forest, and even the high- 
 way was only cleared wide enough for wagons to pass, and in 
 many places not that. The dust of that dry Virginia clay was 
 at least four inches deep, and would roll up beneath the horses' 
 hoofs until you could scarcely distinguish your nearest neigh- 
 bor, much less the uniform, whether blue or gray. My own 
 regiment was in the rear that day, and the pack train still in 
 the rear of us. General Mcintosh believing that no danger 
 would arise from that direction. So while the advance regi- 
 ments, the 2d New York and 2d Ohio, were engaging the 
 enemy, we slipped quietly off our horses and lay down on 
 the brush beside the road. This kind of respite was not long 
 to be enjoyed, for suddenly, without warning there came from 
 the rear rap? 1 firing and a Rebel yell, and over our heads went 
 niggers anc mules, camp and garrison equipage and camp 
 kettles. When the "cloud had rolled away" we sprang on our 
 horses, when mine was immediately shot, breaking a hind leg, 
 and was at once abandoned, and I took to the shelter of the 
 
 179 
 
i8o THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 woods. I had on my person a saber and belt with a big navy 
 revolver with about forty rounds of ammunition; over my 
 left shoulder was slung a Spencer tarbine with nearly as much 
 more ammunition. So I was loaded down more like a pack 
 horse than a runner. I peered through the brush beside the 
 road with carbine in hand, to discern, if possible, what could 
 be to my advantage. I had not long to wait. I did not then 
 know whether the Rebels had passed or not, but presently two 
 men rode up from opposite directions immediately in front. 
 
 I could not possibly discern which was friend or foe, but 
 just then there was a flash from a revolver and one of them 
 fell. I discovered that the man sitting on his horse was my 
 Colonel. Being not more than twenty feet away, I rushed 
 out to secure the horse of the wounded soldier. The Colonel 
 said, "Hand me that revolver; it is mine," which I did, and 
 he immediately rode away. I found that the man had fallen 
 through the bridle rein, so that the horse was held. I saw he 
 had two sabers and two belts about his person, and one of 
 them contained a holster and revolver; this I removed from 
 him and buckled on myself. And now for the horse: the 
 dying soldier was a handsome young man about my own age, 
 and he rolled his big black eyes up to me and said, "For God's 
 sake, don't let your men charge on me." I assured him that 
 I would not, and lifted with all my might to get him out of the 
 bridle rein, all to no purpose. I said to him, "Haven't you 
 got a knife?" with which I hoped to cut the bridle. He put 
 his hand in his pocket and expired in my arms. I pulled his 
 hand out and inserted my own, presuming that his action 
 indicated something that would afford relief, but found noth- 
 ing, and the Rebels were already upon me. I gave one her- 
 culean effort and freed him from the horse, laying him beside 
 the road, and. throwing the carbine over the horse, attempted 
 to mount. To my consternation, I then discovered that the 
 stirrup and strap on the nigh side of the horse was gone. I 
 tried to jump the horse, but he was large and I so weighted 
 down with arms I could not do it. So I grabbed the cantle 
 of the sarldle with my right hand and the reins and pommel 
 with my left, headed him in the right direction and told him 
 to go, which command he willingly obeyed. So for about 
 eighty rods the horse ran, my feet touching the ground occa- 
 
A STORY OF ASHLAND, VA. i8i 
 
 sionally, the Rebels tight to my heels firing and yelling like 
 mad, while my own men were* in line returning the fire as 
 rapidly as possible. 
 
 When I got into the ranks of my own command, I led the 
 horse up to a stump and mounted with my arms and accou- 
 trements in good working order. Seven different times we 
 formed line and fought the enemy, which we afterward 
 learned was a division of Confederate cavalry. Probably in 
 no engagement of the war did we lose so many as in this 
 little fight, yet it has no place in history. The color sergeant, 
 bearing the flag in the road, apparently as cool as I am now, 
 was shot through the body and passed the flag to his nearest 
 supporter, saying, "Good-by, Charlie, take good care of the 
 flag." One captain was killed, my Colonel and several line 
 officers were wounded, but I do not know the number of the 
 casualties of the men. My chaplain vv^as in the thickest, with- 
 out arms, waving his hands high in the air and shouting, 
 "Don't get shot in the back, men, don't get shot in the back." 
 A ball took him in the right arm and he went off the field, 
 had his arm tied up. and soon returned loaded down with can- 
 teens of water. This incident of a chaplain, I think, is worth 
 remembering. 
 
 When driven out of the woods, we were at once dismounted 
 and sent back to hold the enemy in check. When recalled at 
 sundown, we could discern the Rebel infantry approaching us 
 from nearly every direction. General Mcintosh marched his 
 command to the north for nearly a mile, when he turned 
 abruptly to the right and marched out on the railroad tracks 
 with a battery of artillery and two ammunition wagons, and 
 the entire command. How we got over culverts and the like, 
 I cannot tell, but nothing was left on the field but the dead 
 and seriously wounded, darkness coming to our relief. 
 
 I soon observed that the saber taken and all the horse equip- 
 ments were marked William Locke, Charles Town, Va. Each 
 day. as the first day of June rolled around, I was reminded 
 of that hazardous escape at Ashland. Twenty-eight years 
 afterwards I was prompted to write a letter to "any of the 
 surviving relatives of William Locke, killed at Ashland, Va., 
 June 1st, 1864." 
 
 In a little time I received a letter from a brother. This 
 
i82 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 led to more correspondence, and an invitation to visit them 
 in their Virginia home, and as the National Encampment was 
 to be held in Washington that year, I went, stopped otf at 
 Harper's Ferry, took a carriage and drove to Charles Town. I 
 could not have been welcomed more cordially by my best 
 friends. 
 
 I slept in the same room occupied by W^illie before he went 
 to the war. We talked over the incidents of the war as they 
 saw it. With Austin Locke I visited Captain Bailor, who was 
 in command of the advance on that eventful day, and gave 
 me the chase. Together we visited the battlefield of Win- 
 chester on the anniversary of the very day the battle was 
 fought, he fighting on the one side, and I on the other. On 
 the morning of our departure, I brought out the saber, which 
 I had kept in hiding, and I said to the old man, "This saber 
 I ha\'e now had in my possession twenty-eight years; time 
 has dimmed its luster and rust has corroded its edge" — which 
 that \ery morning had been ground to an edge, and the grind- 
 stone grit was still visible — "so time has dulled the animosity 
 which then existed, and we part as brothers." In reply he 
 said, "No man was more anxious for the success of the Con- 
 federacy than I ; I gave ten thousand dollars in gold, I gave 
 my horses and mules, I lost my slaves, but no man is gladder 
 thnn 1 of the final result, and I desire to say to you, Mr. Hin- 
 man. while we were overrun by soldiers of both armies, many 
 times we were treated better by the Union soldiers than by 
 our own." 
 
THE RESPONSIBILITY OF THE SOLDIER ON 
 
 PICKET 
 
 By J. Andrew Will, Private, i8th Pennsylvania 
 Cavalry 
 
 I enlisted in June, 1863, and my fifteenth birthday came 
 on the following September. I served first in the infantry, 
 but chiefly in the cavah-y. I shall never forget the responsi- 
 bility I felt the first time T was placed on picket, at a ford of a 
 creek, on one of the roads leading from Shippensbnrg to 
 Gettysburg, Pa., during the Gettysburg campaign, in July, 
 1863. I was instructed to allow no one to cross this creek, 
 unless I was satisfied that he was a Union man, and all right; 
 and if there was the least doubt in my mind I was to call the 
 corporal. I was instructed to allow no one to approach from 
 the front, which was then toward Gettysburg, without halting 
 him, and learning who he was, and why there at that time 
 of night, as soon as I discovered him. After being posted and 
 given my instructions, I was left alone. I was armed with 
 an old Harper's Ferry musket changed from a flint to a cap 
 lock; the ammunition was powder with one ball and three 
 buckshot, on top of the round bullet. This weapon was so 
 heavy and clumsy that I could scarcely hold it to shoot at 
 arm's length or offhand. Thus armed and placed, I began to 
 realize the serious responsibility placed upon me. I concluded 
 I was placed there, not to fight the enemy, but that I was one 
 of the responsible parts of an army ; while my comrades were 
 sleeping in the mud and rain as best they could, I must keep 
 awake for two long hours, watching that ford, so that no 
 enemy could approach in that direction. I was one of the 
 small eyes of that army, and I fully realized that upon my 
 alertness in hearing or seeing anyone approach that ford, or 
 
 183 
 
i84 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 get across that creek, depended the safety of all the troops in 
 my rear. With all the alertness possible of both eyes and 
 ears, a man on a horse was in the middle of the creek before 
 I discovered him; after halting him, I learned that he was a 
 farmer riding one horse and leading two others; he claimed 
 he had these horses hid until the rebels had left his vicinity, 
 when he started north with them. His story seemed a reason- 
 able one, and I permitted him to cross, and then called for 
 the corporal, who appeared and took charge of the man and 
 horses. 
 
 The next morning, after being relieved from picket duty, 
 we were taken out to fire our loaded guns. We soon discovered 
 we were armed with dangerous weapons; the noise was tre- 
 mendous, and the "kick" or recoil was such as to be dan- 
 gerous to the soldier firing it, as well as to anyone who was 
 in its range in front. 
 
 1 his first experience on picket, its dangers and responsi- 
 bilities, followed me all through my military service. 
 
 In the cavalry service, where a mounted picket is never per- 
 mitted to dismount, it becomes somewhat tiresome to sit in 
 your saddle for two hours in the nighttime; your horse to a 
 certain extent is company, but when it is realized that there 
 is the limit of our lines, and that all beyond is ground over 
 which the enemy must come, the responsibility seems and is 
 large. If for any reason whatever this soldier does not give 
 warning of the approach of the enemy, the safety of the whole 
 army may be endangered. The responsibilities, and frequently 
 the dangers of the soldier, are much greater while on outer 
 picket than in a battle or skirmish. In battle there is always 
 more or less excitement, which tends to detract from the feel- 
 ing of either responsibility or personal danger; while when on 
 picket there is usually nothing to distract one's thoughts from 
 home and friends. The very stillness of the night makes one 
 feel the weight of duty, and one's mind must be keenly active 
 as to one's duty. 
 
 I believe the "equation" of a soldier is more readily de- 
 termined by his conduct on advanced picket post than when 
 in a fight. In a fight, the soldier's "combatixeness" is more or 
 less aroused : he feels that the enemy is endeaxoring to hurt 
 him, or at least to do his side some injury or harm, which he 
 
THE SOLDIER ON PICKET 185 
 
 must resent and combat; on picket he is to watch, and be on 
 the constant lookout; all his mental faculties are in their 
 normal condition — unless it be his sense of caution; in a 
 battle or fight his comrades are about him, and they can see 
 and know his action and conduct; his pride often keeps him 
 in his place under fire ; he has fear, but dare not show it, be- 
 cause of the fact that the officers and men are looking at him. 
 
 On picket, in the nighttime especially, the soldier is alone, — 
 no one to watch him, — he is to watch. From many personal 
 experiences, I know that on picket duty the imagmation is 
 especially active; a little noise in the brush, and the sensitive 
 ear of your horse is attracted, and you think you hear the 
 footsteps of a squad from the enemy; though frightfully dark, 
 you think you see the men slowly advancing on you; you feel 
 sure they are stealthily coming; you adjust your feet in the 
 stirrups, gather the rein more firmly in your hand; you reach 
 your hand back to be sure that your revolver is there; you 
 have your thumb on the hammer of your carbine, and are 
 ready to fire when you are sure the enemy is near. Indeed, 
 the temptation at times is very strong to fire at the noise, and 
 thus arouse the reserve, and ride back to meet the ofiicer in 
 charge, and tell him that the enemy is approaching. 
 
 Many a reserve has had its slumber broken by the firing 
 of the pickets, when the most formidable enemy in the vicinity 
 of the picket was a noise. 
 
 Therefore, I say that the courage, firmness, and best qualities 
 of a soldier were more fully tested on the outer picket line than 
 in a battle. 
 
 The regiment to which I belonged, i8th Pennsylvania Cav- 
 alry, was picketing the left of the army in front of Petersburg 
 in the latter part of June, 1864, near the Dr. Gurly house; one 
 night a shot was fired on the picket line, and upon investiga- 
 tion, it was found that one of our men on the advance posts 
 had been shot and wounded; the writer was detailed to take 
 this man's place. The soldier who had been shot declared he 
 had heard no noise in the direction from which the shot came, 
 and that on account of the fractiousness of his horse, as well 
 as the wound in his foot, he was unable to fire at his enemy, 
 hidden in the brush. I was instructed to keep a sharp look- 
 out, and be sure to fire my carbine before being rushed at and 
 
i86 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 overpowered. The fact that the man I had relieved had been 
 shot put all my nerves on tension. My horse, a very intelli- 
 gent animal, seemed to understand the situation as well as I, 
 and stood unusually quiet, but seemed to hear all the noises 
 possible, e\en the moving of the leaves in the trees by the 
 wind. Nothing unusual happened; no enemy appeared; no 
 shots were fired at that picket or by him. It was a night, 
 however, of neither happiness nor irresponsibility. On the 
 contrary, they were two hours of nerve-racking tension. At 
 times I could hear my heart beat mighty plainly, and it seemed 
 to be in close proximity to my throat. I thought oi my 
 Northern home in the mountains of old Pennsylvania, and I 
 could see my old father and mother in the old log house, but 
 I knew they were imploring the God of battles, as well as of 
 men, to protect the son and boy-soldier wherever he might 
 be. 1 could see my two sisters at home, helping my old tamer 
 in the work I was wont to do on the farm. Indeed, there was 
 little among the old home scenes that I did not seem to see 
 that night. But my imagination was not confined to the old 
 home, and its dear people, but there passed before me, as on 
 review, the comrades who had been killed in battle, and on 
 picket ; those who were then suffering the pangs of hunger in 
 Southern prisons, and from wounds and disease in hospitals. 
 And 3'et, with all these thoughts, this soldier on picket duty 
 felt the great responsibilities that were upon him; that if he 
 failed to do his whole duty the entire left flank and rear of 
 Meade's army was in danger. 
 
 Such has been the experience of the writer, such his own 
 personal feelings, and such has he learned from others. 
 Hence, as I have already stated, I believe that the service of 
 the soldier on advanced picket duty during the war for the 
 Union, was a better test of the quality and make-up of the 
 private soldier than a charge on the battle-field, with all its 
 dangerous and exciting conditions. 
 
VARIED AND THRILLING EXPERIENCES OF A 
 
 CHAPLAIN 
 
 By J. H. Bradford_, Chaplain of the i2TH Connecticut 
 
 Infantry 
 
 My regiment had but the one chaplain, the only case among 
 the Ihirty-two three-years' regiments from that State. 
 
 We went to Ship Island, on the Gulf, not far from Mobile. 
 It V. as a sandbank a few feet out of the water, some seven 
 miles long, the upper part covered with wood, which our boys 
 cut and ciragged down to the coast, to be used for fuel. We 
 sunk flour barrels in the sand, their bottoms partly out, and 
 these furnished our drinking water. 
 
 A very sad experience occurred in a thunderstorm in the 
 night, when the lightning struck the pole of the guard tent, 
 where a dozen men were sleeping on the ground, their guns 
 stacked around the tent pole, some with bayonets on. i he 
 lightning descended the pole, followed the guns to the ground 
 and killed several of the men. 
 
 On board a ship, we were towed up the Mississippi River, 
 saw Forts Jackson and St. Philip bombarded, and followed 
 the fleet up to New Orleans. We landed among the first 
 troops, camped in Jackson Square for a few days, then moved 
 on to Camp Parapet, a few miles up the river, where we stayed 
 six months. I preached to the thousands of negroes who came 
 into our camp; filed an iron collar from a negro's neck, who 
 had worn it eight months for attempting to escape, which 
 collar hangs yet in my bedroom, I pulled the body of a 
 drowned boy from the canal where he had gone to swim 
 and had sunk. 
 
 At length we were in the attack on Port Hudson, which, 
 after forty days' siege, surrendered on July 8th, four days 
 
 187 
 
i88 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 after Vicksburg. Here I dined on mule tongue and corn- 
 cakes made of meal with the cob ground with the corn. 
 
 I visited a house used as a hospital, one moonlight night, 
 where the men lay thickly about the yard, wounded in all sorts 
 of ways, but perfectly still, and when I asked them, "Why 
 don't you yell out in your severe sufferings?" one of them 
 replied, "Oh, it would disturb the comrades." 
 
 I rode alone on horseback one Saturday afternoon, from 
 Lafayette to New Iberia, in two hours and thirty minutes, 
 carryhig $10,000 in my high bootlegs, which was to be sent 
 home to Connecticut by the soldiers who had been paid off. 
 As the Adams Express agent did not appear, they turned 
 their money over to me, and I took it to New Orleans and 
 shipped it home for them. No human being, save myself, 
 knew what I was loaded with on that trip. It was a stirring 
 ride, 
 
 I lived during this time a very strenuous life. I had charge 
 of all mail and express matter, and had an opportunity to 
 serve almost every man in the regiment; I also was able to 
 persuade more men to re-enlist when the three years were up 
 than all other officers. 
 
 The last year of service, under General Sheridan, in the 
 Shenandoah Valley, was a stirring experience. One night we 
 broke in the doors of a deserted factory, and getting hay for 
 beds, used the building as a hospital, and here I held on to 
 the main artery of a major's leg all night, when he was fatally 
 wounded by an exploding shell, until he died early in the 
 morning. 
 
 The three years' time I was in the army now seems like a 
 dream rather than a reality. It is hard to realize that our 
 now peaceful country was for four years so racked with the 
 fearful experience of war. But the fact that "Old Glory" is 
 the only flag now waving over a peaceful and happily re- 
 united country is the proof, thank God ! 
 
ONE DAY IN THE SERVICE 
 
 By Elbridge D. Hadley, ist Lieutenant, 14TH New 
 Hampshire Volunteers 
 
 On September 19, 1864, my regiment, the 14th New Hamp- 
 shire Volunteer Infantry, from our camp near Berryviile, in 
 the Shenandoah \^alley of West Virginia, a httle after mid- 
 night marched forth in the pitchy darkness, and dayhght 
 found us, with Sheridan's whole army, marching along the 
 pike northwest toward Winchester, the Sixth Corps in ad- 
 vance. About six o'clock we forded the Opequon and shortly 
 afterward Abraham's Creek. Then we advanced through Ash 
 Run, with steep timbered sides, a battery of Napoleon guns 
 jostling us as we proceeded side by side on the pike. A badly 
 wounded man, brought down from the front on a stretcher, 
 was a suggestive sight, as we had been marching to the music 
 of big guns at the front. Emerging from the defile we saw 
 the Sixth Corps disposed about the grassy hills to the left of 
 the pike. They had been feeling the enemy. We marched oflf 
 to the right, and the Nineteenth Corps was deployed in two 
 lines on some gently rolling ground with a belt of timber in 
 front, from which direction came sounds of artillery firing 
 and of exploding shells, whose white puffs of smoke were 
 visible over the trees. 
 
 My Division, Grover's, was formed in two lines, the First 
 and Third Brigades in front and the Second and Fourth Bri- 
 gades a little to the rear. 
 
 My regiment was in the front line, and formed the extreme 
 right of the Union army as then formed. I am not going to 
 try to describe the battle that ensued — only what I did and 
 saw and what happened to me, but it ended in a great vic- 
 tory for the Union army. 
 
 The Nineteenth Corps lay in the place assigned about two 
 hours. After a little time an "officer's call" brought us com- 
 
 189 
 
190 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 pany commanders together in rear of the regimental line, 
 where we found Colonel Gardner, who proceeded to inform 
 us that we were about to advance against the enemy; that 
 we were cut off from Harper's Ferry in our rear, and must 
 fight it out. I returned and called my company into line and 
 repeated the story, a fiction, and exhorted them to do credit 
 to their State. Of what I said my memory is indistinct. 
 
 Being weary, I lay down among some tall weeds with a 
 piece of tent over me to keep the bright sunshine out of my 
 face and went to sleep. Evidently I was nervous with fright 
 at that time. I had a kind of presentiment that in battle I 
 should get hurt, but that I should survive and go home. 
 
 About 11.40 o'clock I was aroused by a general stir and 
 giving of orders. We fell in line and advanced through a 
 narrow belt of timber, in line of battle, keeping our lines as 
 well as possible, across an open glade and through another 
 belt of timber, coming to an open field 820 yards across, 
 bounded at the farther side by another belt of timber. As 
 we emerged from cover" we came under fire, and the puffs 
 from the belt of timber of the farther edge showed where 
 an alert enemy was waiting for us. The screeching of bullets 
 was ominous. We here found our regiment's left wing be- 
 hind another regiment, and Captain Ripley (detailed from 
 my own company) of the brigade staff rode out in front and 
 ordered us to "right flank" and by the "left flank" into place. 
 The Captain looked down on his company and myself and 
 smiled approval of our conduct. 
 
 Then came the order to charge "double quick." This order 
 is said to have been a mistake, chargeable to Captain Ripley. 
 Then began a "double quick" advance. The firing from our 
 foes in front became hot and vicious. In my position next the 
 color guard, I noticed first, the effective work of the Rebel 
 bullets as they tore through the silk of the flag over my head. 
 The staff was hit. They were getting our range or we were 
 coming into their range as we ascended the little slope. Next, 
 Lumbert, second man in front rank from right of the com- 
 pany and second man from myself, was hit by a bullet in the 
 shoulder with a blow that could be heard many feet away. 
 With a yell of pain or fright he threw his gun high in the air 
 and went down. Almost immediately. Corporal Ball, in the 
 
ONE DAY IN THE SERVICE 191 
 
 color-guard on my right, received a blow with a dull thud and 
 went down. I cast my eyes to the rear and saw Colonel 
 Gardner walking along, sword in hand, looking at the ground 
 in front of him. Firing began at the right of the regiment 
 and I ordered my men to fire also, and they fired as they 
 trotted along. 
 
 I was looking toward the right, peering through the smoke 
 to make out the Rebel line from which the firing came hi the 
 edge of the woods, when I received a powerful blow on the 
 right side of my face or chin. The blow was terrific, and the 
 shock took away all my strength. I settled down in my tracks, 
 in a heap as the line, a loose line now, swept on. Someone 
 said, "That's too bad !" One of my good and friendly boys, 
 John Moore, passed, saying, "Why, Lieutenant, are you 
 killed?" I said, "I guess not." articulating as well as I 
 could under the limitations of a broken jaw. 1 asked John to 
 assist me. He was afraid he would get into trouble. I as- 
 sured him that I would see him through it, how, I did not 
 know. I felt how powerless I was. I crawled behind a little 
 hillock that had formed about a rotting stump, and stretched 
 out. where I could look across the part of the field over which 
 we had charged. Dead and wounded were here and there; 
 some trying to rise, but falling headlong and helpless. Many 
 were forever still. Men with stretchers were removing the 
 wounded from the distant parts of the field. The bullets 
 screeched more savagely tiian ever, and the combined sounds 
 of the battle were like a terrible dirge. It was the most dole- 
 ful, terrible scene I had ever gone through. 
 
 John tied up my face after I had put the parts of my jaw 
 in their places as well as Lwas able, and gave me water from 
 his canteen, wiped off the thickest of the blood and fixed me 
 up as well as he could. I managed to say, "We have driven 
 the rascals anyway." But John looked toward the front and 
 said, "They are all coming back." I raised my head and 
 looked, and it was even so. They passed our position by hun- 
 dreds in utmost disorder. I did not wish to be taken pris- 
 oner, so I staggered to my feet, got my overcoat and haver- 
 sack, and started to the rear. I passed around the right of a 
 brigade of fresh troops to get out of their way. I tried to get 
 behind two or three shelters, but others got the places before 
 
192 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 me. So I staggered on and reached the timber we had ad- 
 vanced from. As I entered this timber a long hne of Rebels 
 came up diagonally to the right of our line of advance and 
 poured in a volley. 
 
 The twigs cut from the trees were falling all around me. I 
 had been under a hot fire all the way back, and screeching 
 Minies and booming of cannon made a pandemonium. I got 
 through the first belt of timber along with hundreds of 
 wounded, bleeding boys, faint and weak, and sunk on a 
 stretcher. I was carried some distance to a road and put in 
 an ambulance and in that conveyance soon reached a field 
 hospital at a farmhouse and mill on Redbud Run. The 
 wounded were thick all around, arranged in regular rows 
 without any shelter. There was shrieking, groaning, cursing, 
 and praying. I lay down with my overcoat under me and my 
 haxersack for a pillow. A doctor looked me over and went 
 away. 
 
 We heard the battle raging for some hours, but by and by, 
 with the declining sun, we heard the shout of victory. Our 
 army was victorious. 
 
 I was cared for in a tent with the severe cases that night. 
 With tlie help of morphine, I slept, oblivious of the horrors 
 of an operating table just outside the tent. The next day I 
 was carried to Winchester, and with several other officers was 
 put into an old hotel, sans cots, sans mattresses, sans carpets, 
 sans straw, sans everything but our wounds and hopes. In a 
 few days we who could be moved were taken in ambulances 
 to Harper's Ferry, arriving at night after a day of agony. 
 
 My fractured jaw did not heal for a year. The bullet has 
 been in my neck to this day. In about a week I received a 
 leave of absence and went home to New Hampshire to the 
 old chamber, a permanently disabled young man, destined to 
 be an invalid till the war was over and longer, so much of 
 my vigor gone that the object of my ambition, a college pro- 
 fessorship, was given up. But I congratulated myself that 
 my lot was not as hopeless as that of many another of the 
 boys of bright hopes and honorable ambitions who enlisted. 
 
A BATTLE SCENE AT HELENA, ARK., JULY 4, 1863 
 
 By Major John F. Lacy, Lieutenant Co. C, Iowa 
 Infantry,, Ex-member of Congress From Iowa 
 
 The most stirring spectacle that came under my personal 
 observation in the Civil War was the charge of the Confed- 
 erates upon the center of the Union lines, on July 4, 1863. 
 The battle of Helena, if it had occurred at any other time in 
 the war, would have been one among the most noted of that 
 great contest, but on July 2d and 3d the world held its breath 
 and watched the titanic struggle at Gettysburg, the "high 
 watermark of the Rebellion." On July 4th Grant forced 
 the surrender of Pemberton's army at Vicksburg, and so, 
 when along with Vicksburg and Gettysburg, the belated news 
 of the great fight at Helena was made public, the people were 
 so bewildered by the Union success that Helena was almost 
 overlooked in the general rejoicing. And in the South the 
 defeat of Lee and the surrender of Pemberton were such, 
 crushing disasters that the Confederates looked with less re- 
 gret upon the defeat of FTolmes and Price in Arkansas. 
 
 I was Assistant Adjutant General upon the staff of Colonel 
 Samuel A. Rice. In that battle Colonel Rice was in command 
 of a brigade and on that day he won his star as brigadier 
 general. His brigade was di\ided, so that the 29th and 36th 
 Iowa Infantry Regiments were upon the right of the Federal 
 line, on the hills above Batteries B. C. and D, in front of Fort 
 Curtis, which was a formidable control redoubt commanding 
 anrl protecting the rear of the advanced batteries. 
 
 The city of Helena lay in the plain below, and the Mis- 
 sissippi, deep and strong and a mile wide, flowed in the rear 
 of the Union army. General Prentiss was in command of the 
 forces on the Union side. News came in through spies, refu- 
 
 193 
 
194 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 gees, and scouts for many days that Generals Holmes and Price 
 were marching on Helena, and that they were expecting to 
 celebrate the Fourth of July there. 
 
 The place had been heavily fortified, so that a compara- 
 tively small garrison could make a good defense. The gun- 
 boat Tyler, which did such good work at Shiloh, was in the 
 stream in front of the city. It is not my intention to give a 
 detailed and full account of the splendid defense of this post, 
 but it is necessary to explain the general situation so as to 
 understand the scene which I wish to describe. 
 
 About midnight, July 3d, the brigade commanders met at 
 headquarters and were advised of the latest news from the 
 interior. The indications led to the opinion that a Fourth 
 of July celebration on a bloody scale would be attempted, and 
 the orders were to strengthen the picket posts and caution the 
 guards to great watchfulness, and to order the picket guards 
 to make good resistance in case of an attack, so that there 
 might be ample time to form the troops for defense. A shot 
 from one of the great guns at Fort Curtis was agreed upon 
 as the signal in case the enemy should appear. The soldiers 
 were all in expectation of the attack and slept but lightly. 
 
 At daybreak the expected attack was made on the right 
 and center. Fort Curtis thundered its note of warning and 
 the long roll was sounded. Rice and his staff were speedily 
 in the saddle and the troops marched in haste from their 
 camps to their designated positions in the line of defense. 
 A heavy fog settled over the scene, giving a weird and strange 
 look to the lines of the two contending armies as they loomed 
 up in the rising mist. The attack on the hills on the right 
 was promptly met by the 5th Kansas Cavalry, under Colonel 
 Clayton; the 3d Iowa Battery, under Captain Wright; the 
 29th Iowa, under Colonel Benton and Lieutenant Colonel 
 Patterson ; and the 36th Iowa under Colonel Kittredge and 
 Lieutenant Colonel F. M. Drake. The enemy fell back under 
 the fierce Federal fire on the right. Colonel Rice then di- 
 rected me to go up to the high point where battery A stood, 
 and observe and report the situation to the south in the center. 
 Riding to a point near the battery I found the sharpshooting 
 too active to go up on horseback to the battery itself; so, 
 leaving my horse with an orderly, I made the remainder of 
 
A BATTLE SCENE AT HELENA, ARK. 195 
 
 the ascent on foot, where, just as I reached the battery and 
 spoke to the officer in command, there suddenly appeared one 
 of the most dreadful and splendid spectacles of the war, A 
 deep ravine to the south and west prevented any obstruction 
 to my view, and off to the west the Confederate army in full 
 force with banners flying was just emerging from the woods 
 and coming out into the open where the defenders had cleared 
 the timber from the land, leaving an unobstructed view. I 
 realized the words of the Scripture, "As terrible as an army 
 with banners." 
 
 It was a splendid spectacle, those dense and gallant lines of 
 gray, as they rushed forward to meet the lines of blue lying 
 in wait for them in the batteries and trenches. Great masses 
 of Price's bravest soldiers followed their battleflags with a 
 daring that excited the admiration of the foe. 
 
 It was a splendid charge. Without a moment's halting, 
 defiantly and bravely they rushed through the rain of bullets 
 and took possession of the batteries and trenches of the Union 
 line. The numbers were overwhelming, and the charge was 
 one of the most daring that was recorded in the entire war. 
 From my point of vantage the combat was all in plain view, 
 as if it had been staged as a special exhibition for the men in 
 Battery A. 
 
 The blue lines fell back hurriedly, but with little disorder, 
 over the brow of the next ridge, and then resumed their de- 
 fense. Suddenly the gray army disappeared as completely 
 as if the earth had opened and swallowed it up. The guns 
 of Fort Collins roared defiance and pelted the whole front 
 with grape, canister and shells. The gunboat Tyler began to 
 get the range and threw its immense shells over the heads of 
 the LJnion soldiers into the ranks of the Confederates. The 
 gray-clad soldiers took shelter in the deep ravines ; they could 
 not go forward, for certain death was in their front. Some 
 of them attempted to fall back, but fell victims to sharp- 
 shooters as they came in sight in their retreat. Some flags 
 of truce were raised in the sheltering ravines. I hurried back 
 to Colonel Rice to report what I had seen. He sent me to 
 General Prentiss with the offer of reinforcements from the 
 right, if needed. I rode up to General Prentiss and delivered 
 my message, and was told to return and inform Colonel Rice 
 
196 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 that no reinforcements were needed. Just then the disarmed 
 Confederates began to file past General Prentiss. The 
 splendid array of life and bravery that I had seen from 
 Battery A had become a dejected and harmless body of un- 
 armed prisoners. A large steamboat was just landing, bound 
 for Cairo, and in a very brief time these men, under guard, 
 were steaming up the Mississippi as prisoners of war. 
 
 The daring and reckless attack upon the defenders of 
 Helena had been repulsed, the bravest of the attacking army 
 were either killed or captured, and around and in the batteries 
 and works that were assaulted and temporarily captured, the 
 dead lay so thick that the ground was literally covered with 
 their bodies. 
 
 In nearly four years of active service the view of that 
 splendid, reckless and disastrous charge of Price's gallant 
 troops, sweeping on toward apparent victory, making the air 
 ring with the Rebel yell, their moment of supposed triumph 
 as thev placed their battleflags upon the earthworks, and then 
 the rally of the boys in blue behind the natural defenses in 
 the rear, the terrific storm of shot and shell, and the sudden 
 and complete disappearance of the Confederates in the ravines 
 below, and then their surrender and disarmament and almost 
 immediate embarkation for their journey up the river. — all 
 these rapirlly occurring events stand out as fresh in my mind's 
 eye as if the Fourth of July, 1863, were only yesterday, and 
 are the incidents that most impressed me. It was a glorious 
 sight to see. "for one who had no friend nor brother there," 
 but as T watched this terrific contest my comrades were in the 
 very center of the fight and many of them fought their last 
 battle on that fatal but glorious day. 
 
THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG, AS I SAW IT 
 By J. W. Bush, C. S. A. 
 
 The battle of Fredericksburg ranks as one of the greatest 
 in modern history. General Burnside had lately succeeded 
 General McClellan, who had distinguished himself in his con- 
 flict with General Garnett in the mountains of West Virginia, 
 again in his escape from rout and capture by General Lee, in 
 his retreat to Harrison's Landing, and still again in that most 
 terrible of all engagements, the battle of Sharpsburg, or An- 
 tietam. Because his army did not beat and conquer the in- 
 vincible army of General Lee, he was relieved by President 
 Lincoln and the War Department at Washington, and sup- 
 planted by Burnside, who achieved distinction as a courageous 
 fighter at Roanoke Island, and also at Burnside's bridge, on 
 Antietam Creek. 
 
 At the latter place he was everywhere, leading and encour- 
 aging his men, who were fighting against the small band of 
 Georgians, commanded by the gallant soldier and statesman 
 General Robert Toombs. The timely arrival of that dashing 
 officer. General A. P. Hill, with 3,000 fresh troops, who 
 struck Burnside's corps in flank and rear, hurled back these 
 stubborn fighters, and saved the day. 
 
 At one o'clock on December 13, 1862, I was on the battle- 
 field of Fredericksburg. I was on the plain below Marye's 
 Heights, a mounted sharpshooter, near the river on the ex- 
 treme right of the army, in a position where I could, without 
 much danger, witness the engagement between Jackson's 
 corps, of about 30.000 and Franklin's corps, led by Meade, 
 of 60,000 men. Before that hour, however, there had been 
 desultory cannonading, and also heavy firing of sharpshooters 
 at long range. 
 
 Stuart was just to my left, near Major Pelham's battery. 
 
 197 
 
198 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 The former ordered the opening shot from this battery which 
 enfiladed Meade's column, and seemed to throw it into the 
 wildest disorder. Immediately, the enemy's batteries of 
 many guns opened upon Pelham. Superior valor or heroism 
 was never displayed by any man than he showed on this oc- 
 casion. I saw one of his guns dismounted, one of his caissons 
 exploded, his horse killed, his men wounded and dying, but he 
 held his position, fighting like a wounded lion. Recovering 
 from this blow, the persistent Meade advanced again, bearing 
 to the right, until his division confronted the batteries of 
 General Lindsey Walker, the terrific and concentrated fire of 
 which again drove back this division before our infantry fired 
 a shot. In the meantime, over one hundred pieces of the 
 enemy's cannon had crossed over the pontoons at Hamilton's, 
 and were planted near the wheatstraw barn. For an hour 
 and a half the earth trembled from the vibration and roar of 
 cannon. 
 
 Franklin and Doubleday's corps charged Marye's Heights, 
 which was like a bastioned fortress. They were hurled back 
 in wildest confusion by Jackson's men. General Thomas R. 
 Cobb, with his valiant Georgians and North Carolinians, with 
 2000 men fighting from behind the stone wall, drove back 
 Sigel's corps of 12,000 men, which quickly re-formed and 
 charged again and again. 
 
 It was here that Pelham received the splendid encomium 
 from General Jackson, "That every army should have a Pel- 
 ham on its right flank, and a Pelham on its left flank." I 
 had often seen Pelham fight before that, but I had never seen 
 him contend against such fearful odds. 
 
 General Lee was not aware of the great victory he had 
 gained, or else he would have demolished Burnside's army. 
 General Lee believed that Burnside would renew the attack 
 the next day. 
 
 Had his army pursued at six o'clock that evening, the 
 enemy would have been put to flight. In its passage over the 
 bridges during the night the soldiers could hardly be re- 
 strained from riot and panic. 
 
 Restricted limit of this article forbids even the enumeration 
 of manv impressive and salient features of this most memor- 
 able battle. 
 
A STORY OF PRISON LIFE 
 
 By John F. Diener, Co. F, /th Pennsylvania 
 Volunteers 
 
 I WAS wounded at the battle of Dallas Woods, Ga., May 
 2^, 1864, an Austin bullet striking me on the bridge of the 
 nose, going through my head, and coming out under my right 
 ear. When I regained consciousness, I found that my com- 
 rades had retreated ; that I had been left on the field as dead, 
 and that I was in the hands of the enemy. I was put into an 
 ambulance and taken to a small town about twenty miles dis- 
 tant, where I spent the night. The next morning we were 
 put aboard a freight train and taken to Atlanta. 
 
 Our two months of prison life at Atlanta is not a very 
 bitter memory. Our captors recognized us as human beings. 
 We were kept in a frame building, given single wooden beds, 
 clean bedclothes, and such food as the Confederacy afforded. 
 From time to time news reached us that the war was going on 
 apace, Johnston was superseded by Hood, and the capture of 
 Atlanta seemed inevitable. 
 
 At the first sound of bombardment, we were removed to 
 Andersonville. Here I spent four of the longest, dreariest 
 and most wretched months that it is possible for the human 
 mind to conceive, or for a human being to endure. Nothing 
 to mark the passing days except the increase in the death 
 roll. Our first move in the morning was to thrust out our 
 heads, anxious, yet afraid to look, lest we should see some 
 comrade lying stark and cold in the street. The men who 
 died during the night were dragged into the street in the 
 morning to await the patrol, or dead wagon, into which the 
 bodies were tossed like logs of wood. They were then hauled 
 outside the stockade and dumped into shallow trenches in 
 the same heartless manner. 
 
 199 
 
200 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 Then came the issuing of rations, if such they could be 
 called. A small brick of corn bread about three inches 
 square and two inches thick, made of corn meal, the cob and 
 all being ground together, and made into bread by mixing 
 the meal with water only. Once in a great while a piece of 
 beef was added. This ration was to last for twenty- four 
 hours. 
 
 And then came waiting, waiting, waiting. I have often 
 wondered how it was that we were not all driven stark, raving 
 mad. Many a night have I stood by that old prison gate, and 
 Matched the sun sink from sight, wondering how many poor 
 fellows were watching its lingering rays for the last time; 
 wondering if I would ever again see it sink behind those dear 
 old Pennsylvania hills. Oh, that rush of homesickness, that 
 seemed to overwhelm us. to plunge us in the darkest abyss of 
 despair ! Only those who have stood behind the bars of a 
 Rebel prison can realize this feeling. 
 
 How did we feel toward our captors, the fiends who made 
 us suffer? One old Irishman of our company was lying 
 quietly in his tent, when suddenly he jumped up, and looking 
 from one to the other of us, said: "Boys, do you know what 
 I would do if they would let me pronounce sentence upon 
 Wirz? Just this: Give him to me, and let me drive one 
 pin — just one — hourly, into his body, drive it in clear up to 
 the head, and leave it there; and I would not stop until there 
 was no spot to drive another." This w^as the universal senti- 
 ment among us prisoners. 
 
 Hunger, when it reaches the starvation point, will drive a 
 man to desperation. We were at this point and were des- 
 perate. 
 
 But all things must have an end, and at the close of four of 
 the darkest months I have ever known came the news that we 
 were to be paroled. The next morning we were formed in 
 line, and there we stood, eager, anxious, for to some of us it 
 meant freedom, perhaps home, and for others, alas, — but we 
 would not look back, we would be hopeful, we all had an equal 
 chance. The names were called and the fortunate ones stepped 
 a few paces to the front and to my great joy my name was 
 called. At last it was all over, those whose names had not 
 been called were ordered back to their tents, and we were told 
 
A STORY OF PRISON LIFE 201 
 
 to be prepared to leave at a moment's notice. Our joy was a 
 good deal saddened by the thought of those who could not 
 share with us the good fortune that had fallen to us. Many 
 were the tender messages entrusted to our care, many the sad 
 farewells from those who knew it was forever. 
 
 A short time after midday came the order to move, and we 
 were really started. We were loaded into box cars and taken 
 to Milan, Ga., where we were unloaded into another stockade. 
 After five days of harrowing suspense, we were again marched 
 out and taken to Savannah. As we marched through the 
 streets, Rebel sentiment was expressed in open manner, the so- 
 called Southern ladies spitting upon us from their balconies. 
 
 When we reached the wharf we were ordered to board a 
 Rebel boat, and run seven miles up the river; there we drew 
 up to a United States boat, and were again under the dear old 
 Stars and Stripes. Then, and then only, did we feel sure of 
 home. 
 
 During the trip up the river we took three "scrubs" and 
 received fresh clothing throughout, as many times. Thinking 
 to take some souvenir home, several of us kept the old vests 
 we had worn in prison; but when the inspecting oflicer came 
 along, pulled open the vests, and disclosed our clean, white 
 fiannel shirts, literally covered with graybacks, we were glad 
 enough to consign all souvenirs to the flames. 
 
 In due time we reached Annapolis, Here we separated, 
 each one going directly home. Home, just think of it! Going 
 home from a Rebel prison! Oh, the joy of it! My weight 
 when captured was 140 pounds; when I reached home I 
 weighed 90 pounds. I had intended to rejoin my comrades in 
 the ranks at the end of thirty days, but illness and my wound 
 kept me from them for three times thirty days. At the end 
 of that time, however, I returned to my regiment, arriving in 
 time to participate in the battle of Selma, Ala., where though 
 my stirrup strap and boot top were cut away by Rebel bullets, 
 I was uninjured in the encounter. 
 
 This, my friends, is the little experience of one, — only one, — 
 of the many thousands who offered their lives for their 
 country. If it has retained your interest long enough to tell 
 you something from which you have learned, I am satisfied. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE* 
 By H. S. Clapp, 123D Regiment, Ohio Infantry 
 
 It was in March, 1863, that the 123d regiment of Ohio Vol- 
 unteer Infantry came under the command of General Milroy 
 at Winchester. 
 
 We put up our Sibley tents on a pleasant grassy spot on the 
 outskirts of Winchester. Our life in this camp was both busy 
 and pleasant. Our time was fully taken up with drill, picket 
 duty, and frequent raids up the valley to Strasburg, Wardens- 
 ville, New Market and other towns. Early in June there 
 were indications that the comparative quiet of Milroy's little 
 army at Winchester was about to be broken. The cavalry was 
 kept busy scouting the valley to the south, and about the loth 
 or nth of the month they began to bring in reports of the 
 approach of a large Confederate force, but there was no 
 thought that we were about to meet as formidable a foe as 
 Lee's army. 
 
 On the evening of June 12th our company (B) was sent out 
 on the Front Royal road two or three miles. Returning to 
 camp about noon the next day we found it deserted except for 
 the sick and a few guards left behind. They informed us that 
 the long roll had called the regiment into line that morning 
 and that it had gone out on the valley pike. After eating sl 
 hearty dinner w^e started out to join the regiment, which we 
 found at Kernstown, two miles from Winchester. It was 
 resting at the left of the pike opposite the old stone mill. 
 
 * Mr. Clapp, the author of this article, was promoted to the rank of 
 corporal. He says, "I think my promotion was due to the ability I had 
 shown in several retreats." It is the editor's opinion that the promotion, 
 and that made still afterward to a second lieutenancy, was deserved as 
 well for gallantry in advance fighting as in skillful retreats. 
 
 202 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE 203 
 
 About 2 P. M. the regiment moved across the pike by the 
 right flank, then facing to the left we moved in hne of battle 
 up the slope of a long hill, on the crest of which we came to a 
 halt. Before us lay an open field, perhaps forty rods across. 
 Near the farther side of this field was a Rebel skirmish line, 
 and it was the most active and belligerent specimen of its kind 
 I ever met. One glance at them told us they were veterans. 
 They would take deliberate aim at us, fire, and then setting 
 the butts of their guns on the ground, move around them in a 
 circle while loading, doing it all with jaunty, careless indiffer- 
 ence to danger which v/as hard to comprehend by a tenderfoot 
 who had not yet learned the art of war. 
 
 Back of the skirmish line was a stone wall, behind which 
 lay their line of battle. We gave them a volley at once and 
 then fired at will. How long we stood in that unprotected spot 
 I cannot tell. It might have been thirty minutes, perhaps more. 
 We were in double rank close order, a human wall stopping 
 every bullet that did not go over our heads. Of the scenes 
 and incidents crowded into the short time we stood there I 
 have but an indistinct recollection. Those which stand out 
 clearest in my memory are the tragic ones. The pained look 
 upon the faces of comrades who fell near me, the horrible 
 picture of one, shot through the face at the base of the jaw, 
 covered with blood, staggering about among us for a moment 
 crazed by his wound, then falling down upon the field to die. 
 These are some of the scenes I gladly would forget. We soon 
 fell back in orderly retreat to a stone wall near the mill, leav- 
 ing our dead and wounded on the field. After dark we moved 
 back near Winchester, and stood in line of battle in a narrow 
 street through the long wretched night, during a part of which 
 the rain came down in torrents. We were tired, hungry, wet, 
 disheartened over the loss of our comrades and our defeat, 
 and we gladly welcomed the daylight and an order to return 
 to our old camp. 
 
 What a feeling of sadness came over us at mess No. i, as 
 we went into our almost deserted tent! We had left half of 
 our happy military family dead or wounded on yesterday's 
 battlefield. After breakfast we shouldered our knapsacks and, 
 deserting our once pleasant camp, moved into the rifle pits 
 near the fort, where we remained through the day. 
 
204 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 Lee's army was tightening its coils around us. Toward 
 night the Rebel batteries on three sides of us began shelling 
 the fort, but did no great damage. At midnight came the 
 order to evacuate Winchester. Not a wheel was to be moved. 
 We were to steal away as silently as possible, without even 
 "folding our tents." Company B was sent to the wagon yard 
 to gather up the ambulance and team horses and ride them 
 out. Getting such horses and trappings as we could find in the 
 dark we mounted and followed the infantry and cavalry out 
 on the Martinsburg pike. 
 
 As we rode silently along in the dim, uncertain light of the 
 early morning, we might have been likened to the legendary 
 army of ghosts that had once "beleagured the walls of Prague." 
 We had gone perhaps four miles. Day was just beginning to 
 break, when a few rille shots rang out clear and sharp from 
 the front. The column halted. We sat upon our horses listen- 
 ing for some explanation of the trouble. Then came the sound 
 of hurried commands to the infantry forming a line of battle, 
 then the rattling volley of musketry told "that the battle was 
 on once more." The Confederates had planted a force across 
 our line of retreat. Soon word came back to us that our 
 troops were going to surrender, and we should make our escape 
 if possible. We were opposite an orchard with a low stone 
 wall between it and the pike. The cavalry went over the wall 
 and down through the orchard, and we followed them. 
 
 The firing had excited my horse and he charged over the 
 wall and under the trees in a way that came near unseating 
 me. Striking into a narrow road which led toward the moun- 
 tains we followed the cavalry at a wild gallop. I had my 
 knapsack on my back and my gun hung over my shoulder. 
 There did not seem to be concert of action between these 
 articles and my horse. When he was going down they would 
 be going up. and vice versa. I realized that I must throw 
 some of my ballast o\'erboard. My knapsack contained my 
 scanty change of clothing and some useful little articles 
 brought from home. I disliked to part with it, but it would 
 not do to drop my musket. I had enlisted to save the Union, 
 and T coulrl never do it without a gun. If I saved my gun, 
 the knapsack must go. so the next time I felt it trying to lift 
 me off my horse I slipped out of it. I had left my wounded 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE 205 
 
 bunkmate on the field of the first day's battle. With a shame- 
 lessness common to our frail human nature I had immediately 
 attached myself to another, and we rode together through the 
 long wearisome day. About 4 P. M. we rode into a little sta- 
 tion on the B. &: O railroad. A train was about to leave which 
 would take us still farther away from the trouble. The train 
 was not made up of Pullmans or even day coaches, but we 
 were in a condition to welcome anything on wheels. We 
 turned our horses over to the cavalry we had been following 
 through the day, and climbing on a flat car made ourselves as 
 comfortable as possible on the bare floor. 
 
 Within a few days we were, with other refugees from Win- 
 chester, in camp near the little town of Bath, Pa. On the 
 afternoon of July 3d those of us who were beyond the noise 
 of our camp could hear the roar of the guns that preceded 
 Pickett's charge at Gettysburg. 
 
 In the latter part of May General Hunter took command of 
 us, and we started out on the famous Lynchburg raid. As a 
 foretaste of things to come, we Avere ordered to carry scant 
 rations and 140 rounds of ammunition per man. We met a 
 Confederate force at Piedmont, and in a short but bloody 
 battle gained a complete victory; but at Lynchburg it was the 
 old, old story. A force sent out from Richmond was too 
 strong for us and we were driven back. 
 
 Then began a retreat which made all of our former ones 
 seem like holiday excursions. We were hundreds of miles 
 from our base of supplies; our rations were nearly gone. Of 
 coffee we had an abundance, of everything else nearly nothing. 
 The country through which we were to march was mostly 
 mountainous and barren. The way out was to be oxer the 
 Alleghanies through White Sulphur Springs, and the wild, 
 sparsely settled region of West Virginia to the Kanawha 
 River, where supplies would be sent to us. We v ere nine 
 days and nights getting through, for we marched night and 
 day, stopping only when exhausted, for one or two hours* 
 sleep, then up and on again. It was a march for rations. — a 
 contest between our endurance and starvation or capture. Of 
 order there was very liitle. It was a go-as-you-please, every 
 man for himself, and the Confederate cavalry hanging nt our 
 rear took the hindmost. On about the fifth day out the last 
 
2o6 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 rations of any kind were issued. After that it was coffee, 
 coffee, coffee. Hunger had its firm grip upon us. We were 
 looking continually for something to eat, scanning the bushes 
 we passed for hidden berries, and searching the deserted 
 houses along the way for morsels of food overlooked by the 
 equally hungry hordes that had passed before. We slept as 
 we marched, until awakened by a misstep or the jostling of a 
 comrade. When we felt the need of more coffee we would 
 stop at one of the many little fires burning by the roadside, 
 dash a little coffee into our cups, fill them with water, of 
 which there was an abundance of the best, doze while it was 
 heating over the coals, then gulp it down and go on again. 
 The first solid food, if it could be called solid, that my com- 
 panion and I had eaten for days was a little fine bran which 
 we wet up with water, adding a little salt, and baked over 
 the coals. We came out at Gualey bridge on the Kanawha 
 River. The scenery about there rivals that in the Yellowstone 
 Park, but the sight that impressed us most was the six-mule 
 teams loaded with provisions, which we found awaiting us. 
 We remained there a week, then marched down to Charleston, 
 where we were loaded on to boats, taken down the Kanawha 
 to the Ohio River, then up to Parkersburg. There we were 
 furnished special trains of elegant box cars finished in natural 
 wood, with the hardest of hard-wood floors without seats, 
 straw or other upholstering, and transported back to Martins- 
 burg, our starting point. The round trip was said to be a 
 thousand miles, and I never doubted it. One-half of it I had 
 marched. Taking advantage of our absence in West Virginia, 
 General Early had come down the valley and was at this time 
 threatening Washington at Monocacy, Md. We were ordered 
 to the rescue. We were tired, ragged and dirty, but we braced 
 up, took another hitch in our belts and drove Early off with- 
 out much fighting. We followed him up the Loudon valley 
 to Snicker's gap. There somebody blundered again and sent a 
 part of our army across the river to meet a superior force of 
 the enemy. We were driven back, many of our men being 
 killed in the river as we were fording it. 
 
 We moved back to Harper's Ferry, where we were allowed 
 a much-needed rest. We exchanged our rags for new cloth- 
 ing and washed off successive layers of dirt in the blue waters 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A PRIVATE 207 
 
 of the Shenandoah. Hunter was reheved and Sheridan placed 
 in command of us. It is a long lane that has no turning. Ours 
 had thus far led us through the valley of defeat and humilia- 
 tion, but we had reached the turning. Under our fearless com- 
 mander it was now to lead up from victory to victory until 
 Early's army should be completely wiped out, and campaign- 
 ing in the beautiful Valley of the Shenandoah a thing of the 
 past. Sheridan put his army in the best possible fighting con- 
 dition, and on September 19th he met Early at Opequon, and 
 before night he had. to quote the words of his dispatch to 
 Grant, "Sent the enemy whirling through Winchester." We 
 followed them up and next found them in a strong position at 
 Fisher's Hill, but the skill and energy of Sheridan soon routed 
 them, and this time they retreated on straight lines; they did 
 not have time to whirl. We followed the remains as far as 
 Harrisonburg, then we turned leisurely to Cedar Creek. Early, 
 having new life injected into his army by reinforcements, 
 came back and lay quietly watching us at a safe distance. On 
 the morning of October i8th, having been promoted to a 
 second lieutenancy in the 19th United States Colored Troops, 
 then in front of Richmond, I left for my post. The next 
 morning when I awoke I could hear the roar of the guns up 
 the valley at Cedar Creek. Early was making his famous 
 attack on our sleeping army, and "Sheridan twenty miles 
 away," but history tells us that he "got there," 
 
THREE BUNKMATES 
 By Byron R. Russell, Co. G, 63D Indiana Volunteers 
 
 We were btinkmates, Sergeant James Douglas, Jacob Roller 
 and the writer. 
 
 Douglas was a native Hoosier; Private Roller, as his name 
 would indicate, was a German-American who had enlisted to 
 serve under the flag of his adopted country; the writer was a 
 recruit, having enlisted in July, 1863, on his fifteenth birth- 
 day. We belonged to the 63d Indiana, Co. G, and were in 
 Sherman's army, General Schofield's Twenty-third Corps and 
 General Jacob D. Cox's Division. 
 
 Our trio became fast friends, comrades, indeed, with all 
 that the name means. Sergeant Douglas was a genial, kindly 
 man and a brave and gallant soldier ; at home he had left a 
 wife and two small children — a boy and girl. The memory of 
 his little family remained with him sacredly every working 
 hour. Every thirty days he would say to his bunkers, "Only 
 
 months more until I will see my wife and babies," and a 
 
 smile would illume his countenance in anticipation of that 
 great pleasure. 
 
 Comrade Roller also left a family in Indiana; his children 
 were grown, and not being of a demonstrative disposition, his 
 homesickness was not so apparent. The writer had no father, 
 mother, wife, nor sweetheart in his Northern home, so his mind 
 was free from the lonely feeling shared by so many of his 
 comrades. His youthfulness caused his bunkmates to exercise 
 a sort of guardianship over him. and many were the favors he 
 received at their hands. For example, in the little shelter tent, 
 his place at night was always in the middle, when the weather 
 was cold, requiring an effort to make the narrow blankets 
 cover the three. We had the average experience of the enlisted 
 
 208 
 
THREE BUNKMATES 209 
 
 men, marching, fighting, burying comrades who fell on the 
 battle line, sometimes together suffering hunger when rations 
 failed to reach us ; in short, the regular routine of soldiers in 
 active service at the front was our lot. 
 
 At length came the memorable Franklin-Nashville cam- 
 paign. From Pulaski the forces of General Schotield slowly 
 and sullenly retired before the enemy — the army of General 
 Hood. At Columbia, near the outskirts of the city, and just 
 in front of our line, a farmer had butchered some hogs; they 
 were hanging suspended from a pole, as is the custom. Near 
 the noon hour Sergeant Douglas said to Jake and the writer, 
 "I will furnish the money if you will go and buy some fresh 
 pork and anything else the farmer may have to sell that strikes 
 your fancy, and we will have a good dinner." 
 
 Jake and I, being in our usual condition, ''dead broke," 
 promptly accepted the proposition. The result was the pur- 
 chase of some tenderloins and split peas ; these with our hard- 
 tack and coffee furnished a very satisfactory incnn. 
 
 Before finishing our meal orders came to throw up breast- 
 works. The boys began by dismantling a fence constructed of 
 cedar posts set upright side by side, to secure material for the 
 front of the works. Douglas was the first to begin work. As 
 he passed us with his second load, the writer said, "Jake, we 
 must get to work, Jim is ahead of us." The Sergeant replied, 
 "Never mind, eat all you want; it will be your last oppor- 
 tunity." 
 
 The veterans of the Atlanta campaign were experts in con- 
 structing defensive works, and in a little while we had com- 
 pleted a good line. In a short time skirmishing commenced, 
 and then followed an artillery duel ; houses were battered and 
 set on fire and pandemonium reigned generally. 
 
 A new regiment deployed as skirmishers became demoral- 
 ized by the awful cannonading and retreated to the rear with 
 more haste than dignity. The 63d was sent from its works to 
 take its place. The men sought such shelter as was afforded 
 by a few trees and stumps on the line, and the duel between 
 the artillerists continued. Within a few moments a cannon 
 ball crashed through the outer edge of a tree and severed the 
 left leg of Sergeant Douglas at the knee; he was taken to the 
 rear and given all possible attention, but no human ministra- 
 
2IO THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 tion could counteract the awful shock, and in a short time he 
 died. 
 
 In the National Cemetery at Nashville his remains lie buried. 
 He was as true and perfect a type of the volunteer soldier as 
 was ever mustered. With thousands of others he was called 
 upon to make the crowning sacrifice. His love of family, 
 his future prospects, his life, his all was offered to his country. 
 The offer zvas accepted. The little boy he so longed to see is 
 now a merchant prince in the city of Chicago. 
 
 In the fullness of time, such incidents as this will pass into 
 oblivion. The long roster of those who fell on the firing line, 
 or gave up their lives in camp, hospital, or prison, will have no 
 historian when friends and family are gone. The details of 
 how these heroes died will fade away. The record will only 
 show that in such and such a battle so many officers and en- 
 listed men were killed. 
 
 But few readers will pause to think that each one among 
 them all was a tragedy; that sorrow, heartaches and despair 
 filled some home each time the fatal missile accomplished its 
 deadly work. 
 
 Many years after the close of the war, the writer visited 
 Columbia and went to the spot where Sergeant Douglas fell. 
 The city had grown, and on the scene of confiict many dwelling 
 houses had been erected, also a suburban grocery store, owned 
 by an ex-Confederate, a member of Wheeler's Cavalry. He 
 took me to call on an old lady whose home was between the 
 hostile lines. Shells from Union guns had fired her dwelling 
 house, totally destroying it and contents. When General 
 Schofield retired across Duck Ri\er and General Hood's 
 forces entered Columbia, his soldiers confiscated the entire 
 clothing and merchant-tailoring stock owned by her husband, 
 and when he protested placed him under arrest. Thus in a 
 day poverty came to abide with them. 
 
 The description by the old lady of her experience was 
 graphic, and was doubtless similar to tales that many others 
 might have told. 
 
 She concluded her story by saying, "The Yankees burned 
 my home, the Rebels stole all my husband's goods. I had one 
 brother in the Yank's army and one in the Rebel army. I 
 was not on either side. / hated both sides alike." 
 
FITZHUGH LEE AS A LIEUTENANT COLONEL 
 IN A SKIRMISH 
 
 By F. a. Bond, Lieutenant, Maryland Co.'s ist Virginia 
 Cavalry, Confederate States Troops 
 
 During the winter of 1861-1862 the Confedera'te Army of 
 Northern Virginia occupied cantonments near Manassas, and 
 their picket Hne was about fifteen miles in front, one of their 
 advanced posts directly toward Washington being at Fairfax 
 Court House. At the same time the Union army was in win- 
 ter quarters near Washington, and their picket line was about 
 ten miles nearer us, and in the neighborhood of Falls Church. 
 
 1 he Union army was at this time very deficient in cavalry, 
 as their men had to learn to ride as a preliminary to becoming 
 useful cavalrymen, and their picketing was done almost en- 
 tirely by infantry, while our picketing and scouting were done- 
 by mounted men and, in the language of General Jeb Stuartp. 
 our cavalry was the "eyes and ears of the army." 
 
 I was at this time a lieutenant of a Maryland company in 
 the 1st Virginia Cavalry, and our lieutenant colonel was Fitz- 
 hugh Lee. He was a splendid horseman, and, when well 
 mounted, a very conspicuous figure. He had been instructor 
 of cavalry tactics at West Point, and was an ideal soldier, 
 and at that early age the idol of the regiment. 
 
 One damp day in February, '62, about 100 men were chosen 
 from our regiment, and, under the command of Colonel Lee, 
 started on a scout. It was rumored that we were to strike 
 the enemy's pickets and capture some prisoners as a means 
 of discovering what their intentions were. The roads were 
 very mu;ldy. and after advancing beyond our lines the com- 
 mand was halted for a more perfect formation. Colonel Lee 
 
 211 
 
212 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 selected eight men, — two sections of four, — and placed them 
 under the command of an officer and directed him to advance 
 two hundred 3^ards ahead of the main body and to keep his 
 eyes open. He then chose eight other men, all of whom 
 were strangers to me — not being from my company — and 
 placed them under my command, and gave me strict orders 
 to follow the main body at a distance of two hundred yards. 
 We proceeded in this manner probably for a mile, when an 
 incident occurred that in a very marked manner shows the 
 kindness and courtesy of General Lee's disposition and my 
 own egotism and ignorance of discipline at this time. 
 
 I left my rear guard and rode U]) to Colonel Lee, who was 
 at the head of the main body, and complained of the duty he 
 had assigned me. I told him I did not want to be riding along 
 behind e\ erybody else, and tliat if we were going to attack the 
 enemy 1 wanted to be up with the advance. I know now 
 that there was scarcely another officer of his rank in the army 
 — especially a West Pointer — that would not have peremp- 
 torily ordered me back to my place with a threat to put me 
 under arrest if I dared again to leave my duty for any cause, 
 and I admit that under the same circumstances, two years 
 later, I should have acted that way myself. Colonel Lee, 
 however, very kindly explained to me that he had given that 
 place as "the post of honor," that although I was farthest from 
 the enemy during the advance, I would be nearest to them 
 when we returned, and our troubles were not likely to be 
 many until we retreated, and he assured me I would have my 
 full share of all the glory. I returned to my command in 
 better spirits, but it was years afterward before I fully ap- 
 preciated his great consideration. 
 
 After riding silently along the road until within about two 
 miles of Falls Church, we turned to the right through heavy 
 timber and proceeded very cautiously for some distance, when 
 suddenly there were several shots from the front and a rapid 
 advance of the main body. I took the gallop and soon got 
 through the woods and out in a long open valley with quite 
 an extended view. Nearly half a mile to the front, upon a 
 sparsely wooded eminence was a blotch of crimson with a 
 thin blue smoke abo\e, \\here a company of red-legged 
 zouaves were firing in our direction as fast as they could 
 
FITZHUGH LEE, ETC. 213 
 
 load. All order had been lost by our people, but all were 
 galloping as fast as they could directly at the enemy. I kept 
 my squad together with some little difficulty and increased 
 the pace, as Colonel Lee's positive order had been to keep 
 just two hundred yards in the rear. Before we got very 
 near, the red blotch disappeared over the hill, followed by 
 all our people, and Colonel Lee on his splendid bay horse, 
 ''Dixie," with heavy black ostrich plume in a broad-brim 
 slouch hat, was well to the front. Going at speed we topped 
 the hill, and before I could draw rein, we were right in among 
 all our people, and as they were in great confusion with much 
 desultory firing, it was impossible for me to tell what was 
 going on. I did remember my orders to keep two hundred 
 yards behind, and wheeled my men about and started to the 
 rear. I had scarcely gone the length of my horse, when from 
 the swamp on my right T heard some loud command given, 
 but not thinking it could be meant for me, continued on my 
 way. Immediately it was repeated, and this time I under- 
 stood I was the party addressed and that the order was to 
 halt and turn back, but I glanced over my shoulder and saw 
 the speaker was a small man, on foot and covered with mud 
 and unknown to me, so I said, "Mind your own business and 
 I will mine." This seemed to aggravate this small man almost 
 to frenzy, and I ne\er did hear such peremptory orders given 
 in so loud a voice and accompanied by some very bad language. 
 Something about the speaker caused me to look again more 
 carefully, and to my horror I saw it was Colonel Lee. "Dixie" 
 had been killed under him while going at full speed, and he 
 had taken a header in the mud, and it was a small wonder 
 that T had not recogm'zed him. I immediately galloped up 
 to him and explained that I thought I was obeying orders, 
 and was told that "circumstances alter cases." He ordered 
 me to dash down to the swamp, dismount, and capture some 
 half dozen men who had taken refuge there and then to end 
 this fight at once. 
 
 This was done promptly. We had several prisoners, two 
 badly wounded and two dead. On our side we had one man 
 killed and Colonel Lee's splendid horse. We mounted our 
 prisoners behind some of our cavalrymen. Colonel Lee took 
 one of the men's horses. A cart was procured from a nearby 
 
214 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 farmer to carry our dead comrade and we returned without 
 further adventure. I understood, in speaking of the matter 
 to some brother officer the next day, Colonel Lee said, "The 
 only officer he had with him worth a damn was that little 
 Maryland lieutenant." 
 
"GUS" HOPKINS' BATTLE FOR WATER* 
 By Augustus Hopkins, of the Elizabeth, N. J., Zouaves 
 
 This story was sent to me by General J. Madison Drake, Historian, 
 Army and Navy Medal of Honor Legion. The General has commanded 
 this organization of the zouaves since their return from the war in 1865. 
 In October, 1908, the organization visited the Gettysburg battlefield, 
 which they had helped to make sacred nearly half a century before, and 
 among the interesting reminiscences told by some of the survivors was this 
 one. — Editor. 
 
 After the zouaves had descended Cemetery Hill, and the 
 automobiles .in which they were makin_^ a tour of the field 
 had stopped at what is known as "Spangler's Spring," which 
 flows as freely to-day as in those terribly hot days in July, 
 1863, when the life of the nation was supremely at stake, 
 and two hundred thousand men at that point were locked in 
 deadly embrace. "Gns" sprang from the vehicle, and, after 
 quenching his thirst from a gourd filled with the crystal fluid, 
 told the following storv: 
 
 "Boys," said he to the zouaves, "to the last breath of my 
 life I shall never forget an adventure I had at this spring at 
 midnight, July 2, 1863. Our corps — the Twelfth, — as you 
 know, occupied the extreme right of our army during the 
 last two days of the battle, and it was along Rock Creek here, 
 after repulsing two fierce attacks of Ewell's Corps, that we 
 had a lively and interesting time with the Johnnies in pre- 
 venting them from outflanking our corps, thus saving our 
 army from defeat, if not capture. 
 
 "It was as hot as Hat'es. if that place is as warm as some 
 men represent it, in these woods that 2(] of July night. Not 
 a breath of air was stirring — all vv'as as still as death. With 
 
 *As told on the field of Gettysburg in 1908, forty-five years after. 
 
 215 
 
2i6 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 others, I was suffering intensely for the want of water; so 
 much so, in fact, that my tongue at times cleaved to the root 
 of my mouth. I coulchi't have expectorated had I tried, so 
 terrible and burning was my thirst, so parched was my throat, 
 and I determined to procure water, however difficult and 
 dangerous the undertaking. Collecting half a dozen empty 
 canteens belonging to the dead and dying about me, I started 
 down the steep hill toward this spring, which I had located 
 during the afternoon, and which I had since covetously re- 
 garded. For hours it had been my heart's desire to reach 
 the spring. 
 
 "Within the deep shadows of the woods surrounding me 
 eA'erything was as dark as Erebus, and the silence of death 
 reigned. Not a star was visible through the dense foliage 
 above me, as I cautiously pursued my way, intensely listening 
 for any Johnny, and I finally succeeded in reaching the obiect 
 of my fondest desire — this blessed spring of water — without 
 discovery or molestation on the part of the exhausted and 
 heavy-sleeping Confederates who I knew must be in close 
 proximity. 
 
 "After filling my canteens and myself with copious draughts 
 of the cool and refreshing God-given beverage until I thought 
 my skin would explode, remembering very well what the 
 Governor of North Carolina said to the Governor of South 
 Carolina on a certain memorable occasion, and well satisfied 
 with the success that had attended my efforts, I started on my 
 return to our lines, and when about halfway up the long and 
 tiresome hill was suddenly set upon by a powerfully built 
 man, who sprang from behind a tree, and seized me with a 
 vise-like grip at my throat, hissing. 'You're my prisoner.' 
 
 "In the life and death struggle which instantly followed, I 
 dropped my rifle and grappled with the fellow, whom I 
 quickly threw to the ground, and as he retained his hold I 
 went down with him. I was no slouch in those days in a rough 
 and tumble scratch, and after a desperate struggle, in which 
 I nearly squeezed the life out of him, I finally put him to sleep 
 by hitting him on the head with a canteen — then deeming dis- 
 cretion the better part of valor. I took to my heels and was 
 soon among my friends in the Twentieth, who rejoiced to get 
 the water I procured. 
 
"GUS" HOPKINS' BATTLE FOR WATER 217 
 
 "Lieutenant Colonel Wooster, learning of the matter a few 
 days afterward, instead of court-martialing me for leaving 
 camp without permission, made me a sergeant. The next 
 afternoon Pickett made his superb charge across those deadly 
 fields in the valley against our living wall of blue on Cemetery 
 Hill, but all I saw or heard of it was the comparatively harm- 
 less shot and shell which came bounding over the hill from the 
 right of Seminary Ridge, where Longstreet's corps was posted, 
 and on the fourth we commenced our long chase of Lee to the 
 left bank of the Potomac River, which General Meade gave 
 him ample time to cross with what remained of his gallant but 
 defeated army." 
 
 General Drake adds these words : "May not the zouaves, 
 while bivouacing on the sun-lit and ever-glorious field of 
 Gettysburg, have seen phantom charges, with long lines melt- 
 ing away even as the snows of winter under the genial sun- 
 shine of springtime, — ghosts in blue and gray grappling at the 
 spring and on the grassy hillsides? 
 
 "May it not be possible that our dead heroes reassemble at 
 Gettysburg and li\e over again those three momentous July 
 days, ^^hen they heljied to decide the fate of a continent, and 
 hewed out through the red soil of human flesh a path that is 
 to be followed by all mankind." 
 
A MODEST REQUEST 
 By a Member of the 2D Maryland Volunteers 
 
 The following funny little story was sent to me by a good soldier and 
 thoroughly reliable gentleman, but was sent without any other authorship 
 than the above. Knowing it to be rehable, I publish the article just as 
 sent. — Editor. 
 
 Before beginning the march through Maryland in 1862 to 
 head Lee's invading army, the troops were commanded in 
 general orders to observe decorum and show respect to its 
 citizens and their property. Similar orders had been given in 
 Virginia, during Pope's campaign, just ended. Here, how- 
 ever, there was a distinct feeling they carried more weight, 
 and the most predatory "bummer" among us felt he must curb 
 his mischievous propensities, restrain his rapacious appetite, 
 andi soften his rude soldier speech and manner. 
 
 While the 2d Maryland expected, in the nature of things, 
 to deal kindly with their own, many passing in sight of their 
 homes, the beneficial effects of these orders were very per- 
 ceptilile everywhere among- the troops, a condition most amus- 
 ingly illustrated by "Squibby" Dennis, of Co. D, who had a 
 most matter of fact way of utilizing, and heretofore an unre- 
 strained fancy for, other people's belongings. "vSquibby," 
 however, in Maryland was on his good behavior, and his diplo- 
 matic request of the good housewife, as she stood smilingly 
 at the well by the roadside, at which the passing soldiers 
 quenched their thirst, was worthy of a Talleyrand, and but for 
 his captain's call to ranks would have met with a rich reward 
 from the loyal woman, as it had already her high ap])reciation. 
 Those who remember "Squibby" can imagine the sly fellow, 
 and see his keen, sharp, comic phiz as, with cap in hand, he 
 humbly approached the good dame and solemnly begged : 
 
 "Please, marm, give me a drink of water; Fm so hungry I 
 don't know where to sleep at." 
 
 21s 
 
GENERAL LEE TO THE REAR AT SPOTTSYLVANIA 
 
 By R. D. Funkhouser, Commanding Co. D, 49TH Virginia 
 Infantry, C. S. A, 
 
 No other circumstance of the war has attracted more atten- 
 tion than the references to General Lee when, in the crisis 
 between defeat and victory, he rode in front of his soldiers, 
 ready to lead them in the charge. This heroic man, generally 
 so calm and self-possessed, flames like an archangel, and 
 inspires all about him with his own elevated yet steadfast 
 intention. As the following incident so impressed me. I think 
 its narration by one who was there may be of interest to many 
 who prefer fact to fiction. I therefore relate it as I saw it, on 
 that memorable 12th day of May, 1864. 
 
 I was first lieutenant of Co. D, 4Qth Virginia Infantry, Peg- 
 ram's Brigade and Gordon's Division. 
 
 General Grant began his "On to Richmond," by crossing the 
 Rapidan River, May 4, 1864. The terrible battles of the Wil- 
 derness and Parker's Store were fought on May 5th and 6th. 
 Grant being worsted, he began his "slide-around" policy, only 
 to find I-ee boldly confronting him every time, and especially 
 at Spottsylvania Court House on the eve of Sunday. May 8th, 
 after a tortuous march through the Wilderness, which was 
 on fire, occasioned by shells exploding in the dry leaves, and 
 it burned up to the road on both sides ; this, on a scorchingly 
 hot day in May, made it pretty hot weather. It was evident 
 for the three days intervening that preparations were being 
 made for a tremendous conflict, and it came in due time. In 
 the meantime, the famous horseshoe and other earthworks 
 were created for our protection, and a sortie was made by the 
 enemy, on the eve of the loth, near the Crow house, a little to 
 the left of the horseshoe, and was carried, but was speedily 
 retaken with considerable loss on both sides, the enemy losing 
 
 219 
 
220 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 two generals. On that clay, and on the nth, our brigade was 
 used as a support, consequently we occupied a second line. On 
 the morning of the 12th we moved up to the front line, imme- 
 diately on General Johnston's left, who occupied the toe of the 
 horseshoe, which was mainly a thicket. Our position was in a 
 small open field, and a little to our left and rear was a narrow 
 strip of land like an isthmus. We doubled upon and supported 
 the Louisiana brigade (Mays'). I said to one of the "tigers" 
 (Wheat's battalion formerly), "What's the matter here? 
 You've had us waked up before day, and brought us out of 
 our shelter in the rain." He replied, "We will have the Yan- 
 kees over here directly to take breakfast with us." 
 
 It was hardly dawn, and pouring rain, when General Han- 
 cock, with 40,000 men, assailed Johnston's division in the toe 
 of the horseshoe, when his 3600 men, as brave as the world 
 ever saw, were overpowered and captured with their com- 
 mander, who had won the sobriquet of "Bull Johnston." We 
 being immediately on their left, thought, of course, the tri- 
 umphant enemy would naturally pay their respects to us next. 
 A gallant Louisiana officer, Colonel Bruce Munger, I think 
 it was, sprang out of the ditch and said, "Men, don't be scared; 
 be steady and follow me; I'll take you out." Almost the next 
 minute he fell dead. 
 
 So we moved out, apparently every fellow for himself. 
 Soon we were halted by Colonel A. J. Pendleton, who said to 
 me, "Capain, stay here at all hazards till I return." He started 
 on a gallop for General Ewell's headquarters. My attention 
 was called to a thicket which we would either have to pass 
 throus^h or flank around and, through the little opening already 
 described, and to my horror, the Yankees were going up an 
 old hollow road at trail arms and double quick, to cut us off. I 
 called to Colonel Pendleton, and pointed toward the enemy. 
 With a motion of his hand he indicated to us to flank around 
 the thicket, which we did in a hurry, marching within seventy 
 yards of our adversaries, who seen.ied to be forming to charge 
 us. And when we got around the thicket into the second field. 
 we came to a halt without orders from anyone, having then 
 but little organization. 
 
 On looking around I saw General Lee, alone, I think; he 
 was calmly sitting on his gray horse. I said to Captain J. B. 
 
GENERAL LEE, ETC. 221 
 
 Updyke, "Here's General Lee." He joined me with others 
 who had just come up, in saying, "General Lee to the rear." 
 General Gordon then rode up and said, addressing General 
 Lee, "General, these are Virginians; they have never failed to 
 do their duty, and they never will, but they don't want you to 
 expose uselessly your valuable life. You go to the rear, and 
 they will follow me, won't you, boys?" All shouted, "Yes, 
 yes !" Then Sergeant William A. Compton, who had volun- 
 teered in my company at the age of seventeen, took hold of the 
 bridle of General Lee's horse, and led him back through the 
 ranks of my company and regiment; the men made an open- 
 ing at my instance, at motion of my sword. General Gordon 
 spurred his horse into the thicket, saying, "Charge, men! 
 Follow me !" Madly the veterans burst on the foe, whose 
 ranks were torn and whose columns were riven. The breast- 
 works were retaken, and the day was ours. General Lee, no 
 doubt, saw the crisis had come. His army was cut in two, 
 and he was willing to risk all on one throw, and he ivon! 
 
STORMING OF FORT STEADMAN, ON HARES HILL, 
 FRONT OF PETERSBURG, VA., MARCH 25, 1865 
 
 By R. D. Funkhouser, Acting Lieutenant Colonel, 
 49TH Virginia Infantry, C. S. A. 
 
 I COMMANDED Co. D of the 49th Virginia Infantry ("Extra 
 Billy" Smith's regiment), Pegram's Brigade (Early's first), 
 Walker's Division, Gordon's Corps ( formerly Stonewall Jack- 
 son's), Army of Northern Virginia, which occupied the 
 trenches in front of Fort Steadman and covering Petersburg. 
 Gentle reader, were you ever in a siege ? It is the most dismal 
 work mortal man can undertake, and to withstand starvation, 
 cold, loss of sleep, shot and shell night and day for weary 
 weeks and even months, and notwithstanding that there was 
 in our front one of the most formidable earthworks that mili- 
 tary skill and modern science could devise and erect, and 
 manned by many heavy guns, and the best-equipped soldiers 
 in the world, besides two lines of chcvaiix-dc-frise to obstruct 
 an assault or night surprise, guarded by continuous chains of 
 pickets to give timely warning of approaching danger — not- 
 withstanding all this, we w^ere aroused at two o'clock on the 
 morning of March 25, 1865, and told by staff officers to form 
 our men and prepare for action at once. I also received orders 
 to turn over my company to the next officer in rank to com- 
 mand it, while I was to take command of the regiment as 
 lieutenant colonel, being the second officer in rank present. 
 All w^as hurry and confusion, and I realized for the first time 
 in my life that I was a member of a forlorn hope, arrayed to 
 storm the Cuidad Rodrigo of America, and marvelous to say, 
 we won. It was dark, cold and forbidding. Our brigade 
 sharpshooters, under the command of Captain Anderson, who 
 lost his life in the charge, advanced in front with axmen, who 
 
 222 
 
STORMING OF FORT STEADMAN 223 
 
 cleared an opening through the chevaux-de-frise, which seemed 
 to be done ahnost instantaneously. When we charged through 
 in four ranks at double quick, filing to the right and left with- 
 out a moment's pause, we went with their fleeing sentinels 
 right into the fort, which took the Yankees completely by sur- 
 prise, hundreds of them being asleep in their bomb-proofs. 
 Our chief suffering was afterward occasioned by the enemy's 
 guns to the right of us, to the left 01 us, and to the front of us, 
 as a narrator said of the charge of the famous six hundred at 
 Balaklava. We were very much elated at first, as we thought 
 we had won a great victory, having captured sixty guns and 
 two or three thousand prisoners. The latter were sent promptly 
 to the rear. But as General Lee's plan failed to work out, on 
 account of his troops ordered to reinforce not arriving in time 
 to support us, and our present position being untenable, the 
 troops became very much demoralized under the merciless 
 shelling, and seemed to have lost their organization, and even 
 the generals almost despaired in their efforts to get the men in 
 the ranks to obev the order just received, to assault the enemy's 
 second line of works. Our brigade commander, Colonel J. G. 
 Kasey, said to me : "Form your men and charge forward." 
 We succeeded in getting a few men in line and I moved for- 
 ward, jumped a sewer ditch, and was followed by three men, 
 the rest having gone back behind a bomb-proof. At this 
 moment the concussion of a shell knocked me down, senseless 
 and breathless ; the men started to carry me back, when another 
 shell exploded and they let me fall, and they ran for shelter. 
 The fall revived me, and I followed them back under cover. 
 After a short pause, we succeeded in forming the men all 
 along the line, and we moved forward at double quick and in 
 good spirits, giving the Rebel yell. I remember charging with 
 Colonel Kasey near me, according to an understanding we 
 had to keep near each other. Reaching the line of works it 
 became necessary to move to the left to give room for the 
 troops to come in on our right, and in so doing we had to pass 
 an opening in the breastworks for artillery and supply wagons 
 to pass through. This was literally piled up with dead and 
 wounded men, and we had to crawl over them. Soon we saw 
 the Yankees flanking on the right front. Colonel Kasey sent 
 Captain R. N. Wilson to advise General Walker of the danger 
 
224 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 thus threatening us, he having told us to hold our present posi- 
 tion at all hazards. No word ever reached us in reply, although 
 General Walker sent three couriers to order us to retreat. 
 (This I learned since the war.) I finally said, "Colonel, we 
 ought to get out of this place." He replied, "It is too late." 
 Then I said to those of my command, "Boys, you are at liberty 
 to stay here or try to get out; I'm going." I heard of but 
 three men starting after me, and one of them fell sick by 
 the wayside, and Lieutenant Wilson and one man followed on. 
 I was met by an officer in an old hollow road which I had 
 found and was keeping in for shelter; he halted me and de- 
 manded my surrender, saying that they (the Yankees) had 
 the works then between us and Lee's army; on seeing Lieu- 
 tenant Wilson and the man with the gun coming to my rescue, 
 we took the Yankee captain against his protest, and on arriv- 
 ing at their first line of works, sure enough, the Yankees were 
 there; they invited us, — captors and captive, — to take shelter 
 in the ditch from General Lee's guns, which seemed to threaten 
 the destruction of everything within their reach. The firing 
 soon ceased, however, and we three were marched back to 
 join our fellow prisoners. It was dismal indeed. We were 
 all at General Crawford's headquarters, and the spectacle was 
 a sad one; victory had suddenly been turned to defeat and 
 1900 men and 112 officers were now prisoners of war. These 
 were veterans of all the great battles of the war thus far, and 
 were of Stonewall Jackson's old corps. No wonder, when a 
 dashing-looking young officer of General Crawford's staff, — 
 Lieutenant Cook, — rode up and addressing me, as I was stand- 
 ing nearest him. said, "You took us by surprise this morning. 
 You seem to look used up; here's something refreshing; have 
 a drink?" Drawing his flask from under his cloak, he cour- 
 teously and kindly said, while handing it to me, and I was 
 respectfully handing it back to him, "There's more. Call a 
 friend." I called two and finally a third person, who finished it 
 up, and we were sorry he did not have a barrel, and I believe 
 he was too, and if Lieutenant Cook is living, and he sees this 
 writing and recognizes the incident, I should be very glad to 
 hear from him. 
 
 It was indeed surprising to us Confederate prisoners to see 
 that General Grant, with a fight on hand, was holding a grand 
 
STORMING OF FORT STEADMAN 225, 
 
 review of the reserves, or portions of his vast army which had 
 not been engaged in the fight that day. President Lincoln was 
 with Grant, and with the General and staff rode by us seem- 
 ingly not the least concerned and as if nothing had happened. 
 And now we all, of the Confederates, with one accord agreed 
 that our cause was lost. We did this as we saw Grant's vast 
 army, well equipped and well fed, assembled to pay their 
 respects to a skeleton in numbers and personal appearance too. 
 After being marched about two miles to their military depot, 
 and standing near General Meade's headquarters till after 
 night, we were loaded on their military railway cars and hauled 
 to City Point on the James River, twenty miles distant. On 
 arrival at midnight we were greeted with a tin cup full of 
 sure enough coffee and good rations. This was the first we 
 had had for thirty hours ; we then lay down in their barracks 
 and had a good sleep. Indeed so sound was it that someone 
 relieved my friend, Colonel F. M. McMasters, 17th South 
 Carolina Regiment, of his overcoat. In about a week we 
 reached Fort Delaware, where I remained until June 18, 1865, 
 when, upon being released, I went home. 
 
FROM MANASSAS TO MALVERN HILL— A SERIES 
 
 OF FIGHTS 
 
 By R. D. Funkhouser, 2D Lieutenant^ 49TH Virginia 
 Infantry, C. S. A. 
 
 I WAS the son of a plain but well-to-do farmer near Benton- 
 ville, Va., and was something of a farmer myself when the 
 war began, I had a little old-time schooling, obtained in an 
 old log schoolhouse, the prevailing college of the rural sections 
 in those days. 
 
 Early in 1861 I assisted in organizing an infantry company, 
 with eighty-four men, and 1 was elected 26. lieutenant therein. 
 The captain was made major and died, another captain was 
 killed, so was a lieutenant; another captain was wounded, and 
 Lieutenant Brown was captured, and was one of the immortal 
 six hundred Confederate prisoners sent to Morris Island under 
 the so-called retaliation act, and I thus became the company's 
 commander. We remained at Front Royal drilling, and hav- 
 ing our gray uniforms made, until July 16, 1861, when we 
 reported to Colonel William Smith ("Extra Billy"), at Ma- 
 nassas Junction, fifty miles distant, for duty. 
 
 On the morning of July 21st we were bivouacked near the 
 Lewis house, six miles west of Manassas, and within four 
 hundred yards of the Henry house, which was destined to 
 become the key to the great strategic move of that day, al- 
 thoueh T think it was a surprise to our generals, for they ex- 
 pected the conflict to take place on the line of Bull Run, five 
 or six miles east, or to the right of us. Perhaps, through sym- 
 pathy occasioned by our awkward appearance, we were sent 
 there to be out of harm's way, having just received our guns 
 (since our arrival at Manassas), without cartridge boxes or 
 bavnnet scalibards. and we had to carry the cartridges in our 
 pockets, with bayonets fixed on the ends of the guns. 
 
 226 
 
FROM MANASSAS TO MALVERN HILL 227 
 
 I have often thought what a kidicrous appearance we must 
 have presented to the famous New York Zouaves, the red- 
 breeched fellows we encountered later that day. They who 
 had been drilled and equipped to perfection by the bloods of 
 New York city, and were considered Uncle Abe's especial 
 pets, but fortunately for us they did not wait long to observe 
 us at that Henry house hill, w^hen we charged into them and 
 took Ricketts' Battery, which they were supporting, which 
 charge on our part gave General Thomas J. Jackson his sobri- 
 quet of "Stonewall." 
 
 Having been formed, we went immediately in on the left 
 of the 33d Virginia, which was Jackson's left in his brigade 
 formation. We went into the fight with but three companies, 
 which was the nucleus of the 49th Virginia Regiment. Four 
 men were killed and eighteen wounded from our company. 
 This was my first fight, and I cannot describe my feelings ; I 
 can only say that the change was a terrible one, — that from a 
 peaceful, happy home of my days of youth when the Sabbath 
 was a day of sweet rest and worship, to this Sabbath, my first 
 in war. 
 
 It was a singular coincidence that our company and regi- 
 ment were thrown into the balance when the crisis had come 
 at the first battle of Manassas, and also on the ever-memorable 
 May 1 2th. 1864, ^t Spottsylvania Court House, when General 
 Lee offered to lead the 49th Virginia Regiment (Pegram's, 
 Early's old brigade) to retake the works just lost by the 
 capture of General Johnston's Division of 3600 men. Methinks 
 I can now see General Lee, and hear the famous Rebel yell 
 that was raised when his horse was led back and we charged. 
 
 We wintered around Manassas Junction 1861 and 1862, 
 imtil March 9th, when we left Manassas and went to York- 
 town, where we were confronted by General McClellan's grand 
 Army of the Potomac. 
 
 General Joe Johnston's army from Manassas having gone 
 down to release General J. B. McGruder's small force, the 
 evacuation of Yorktown by our forces and the famous penin- 
 sular retreat began on the night of May 4th, and on reaching 
 Williamsburg, twelve miles distant, we made a stand, where 
 the stubborn battle of Williamsburg took place on May 6th, 
 and that night we were standing in line of battle, in the midst 
 
228 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 of a dreadful downpour of rain, and as wet as water could 
 make us. We were in front of some huts which General Ma- 
 gruder's troops had wintered in. The night was very dark and 
 Lieutenant Updyke and I groped into one of the huts, and 
 feeling about, found something soft to lay our heads on, and 
 soon we were fast asleep. A cannon ball crashed through our 
 shanty, and the rattle of shingles and shower of "dobbin" and 
 debris woke us up. We started to decamp in a great hurry, 
 when the lieutenant said, "I've lost my hat, have you a 
 match?" and when I struck one, behold, there was a large 
 Newfoundland dog, lying stark dead, and that had served as 
 our pillow. We did not stop to hold a post mortem to find 
 out the cause of his death, for just then another shell came 
 crashing over our heads, which rather suggested unhealthful 
 conditions for us. 
 
 My first really close call was at Seven Pines, May 31st, 
 when we were marching in line of battle through that almost 
 impenetrable swamp, sluiced with water from recent rains. I 
 was following in the wake of Corporal G. W. Fox, a file 
 chosen, it being my position in line of battle. When Fox was 
 stepping around a tree, he stopped to push some limbs to one 
 side, and I stepped with my right foot forward. I withdrew 
 it, and pushed by on the other side of the tree, instead of wait- 
 ing for him to get out of my way. Just then a shell exploded, 
 and took off one of poor Fox's legs. 
 
 We went into the fight with forty-six men, and only twenty- 
 two came out unhurt. We were then in General George B. 
 Anderson's brigade, with two Georgia and one North Caro- 
 lina regiments, the latter commanded by Colonel Byron 
 Grymes, afterward major general, whose acquaintance I had 
 formed. Among the brush and fallen trees we became mixed 
 and were being badly cut up, but still trying to advance, when 
 I noticed Colonel Grymes riding near me, carrying his regi- 
 mental flag on his horse, the flag-bearer having been shot 
 down. I called to him to let me carry the flag, as he was likely 
 to be killed; he calmly replied, "Lieutenant, your life is worth 
 as much as mine." I did not think of the awkward looks of 
 a Virginian carrying a North Carolina flag for them. He 
 was a most gallant soldier and a splendid gentleman. He 
 went through the entire war, only to be waylaid and killed 
 
FROM MANASSAS TO MALVERN HILL 229 
 
 by an assassin, in the 'seventies. General Joe Johnston having 
 been w^ounded in the Seven Pines fight, General R. E. Lee 
 became our commander, when we settled down to the defense 
 of Richmond in earnest. General McClellan's army was in 
 dangerous proximit)'-, and we confronted each other for 
 twenty-five days, and vigilance was the watchword day and 
 night. When Stonewall Jackson came down from the valley 
 of Virginia and attacked McClellan's flank, his famous retreat 
 began, ending at Harrison's Landing, fighting, en route, the 
 battles of Gaines' Mills, Mechanicsville, Cold Harbor, Frazier's 
 Farm, and Malvern Hill, besides many heavy skirmishes, such 
 as taking Grape Vine, White Oak, and Chickahominy bridges. 
 I think the heaviest artillery fire we were under was at Fra- 
 zier's Farm. 
 
 The next morning our brigadier general rode up to our 
 colonel and said, "I want to get an officer to volunteer to take 
 command of forty-five sharpshooters to charge the bluecoats 
 out of that barn in sight." It looked like a very forbidding 
 undertaking. As no one offered to go, our colonel said to me, 
 "Lieutenant, will you go?" I put on a bold front and said, 
 "Certainly, if you wish me to." Now I want to say that, while 
 I took command and moved forward at double quick it was 
 with tremendous trepidation, and I was greatly relieved when 
 those fellows in the barn, sixty-two of them, ran up a white 
 flag and surrendered without resistance, they having learned 
 that after daylight the entire army had left the night before 
 for Malvern Hill, without withdrawing their pickets, leaving 
 a half-mile of knapsacks behind them. These looked mighty 
 tempting to us, but we had no time to inspect them, and we 
 hastened to follow on, as my command constituted the ad- 
 vance guard. We went into the fight at Malvern Hill, which 
 ended the seven days around Richmond. 
 
A MARRIAGE IN CHICAGO— THE HONEYMOON IN 
 
 ANDERSONVILLE— A YANKEE BABY BORN IN 
 
 ANDERSONVILLE— KINDNESS OF 
 
 CONFEDERATES 
 
 By J. W. Kerr, Surgeon, C. S. A. 
 
 During the spring of 1863 (I think in June) Captain Harry 
 Hunt of Buffalo. N. Y., and Miss Jennie Scadden of Chicago 
 were married. Captain Hunt, being a captain of a coasting 
 vessel running out of New York, took a number of his wed- 
 ding guests and went out to sea for a little pleasure cruise. 
 While out at sea a Federal revenue cutter came up with them 
 and forced Captain Hunt to go down on the coast of North 
 Carolina for a load of corn. Captain Hunt was not allowed 
 to go back to New York to land his guests, but had to take 
 them with him. While loading his vessel in Albemarle Sound, 
 "Johnnie Rebs" ran on them and captured the whole party, 
 but after they were captured, the "Jo^ii^i^^^^'" finding that the 
 passengers all belonged to a wedding party, turned all loose 
 except Captain Hunt, and sent them through the lines, except 
 Mrs. Hunt, who absolutely refused to leave her husband, as 
 they only had been married about a week, and as he did not 
 belong to the army, she thought he could not be held as a 
 prisoner of war; but "the best laid schemes o' mice and men 
 gang aft a-gley." and so it was with them, for Captain Hunt 
 was sent to Augusta, Ga.. and Mrs. Hunt went with him. 
 From there, both were sent to Andersonville prison, either in 
 June or the first of July, 1863. 
 
 On the Fourth of July, 1864, I arrived at Andersonville 
 Prison, having been ordered there to take charge of building 
 of hospitals and the hospital there. I got there just after 
 dark and went to my office, which was located in the star 
 
 230 
 
A MARRIAGE IN CHICAGO, ETC. 231 
 
 fort at the southwest corner of the prison. I had been there 
 only a few moments when I heard a Httle infant crying. I 
 asked one of the guards what that meant and he told me that 
 a prisoner's wife had a baby only three days old. The next 
 morning I went out to see her and found her and the infant in 
 a little Sibley tent in the most abject poverty I ever saw. 
 Some months before this, some of the Federal prisoners had 
 split the back end of the tent where Captain Hunt and she 
 stayed, and stolen their trunk, Vv^ith all her wedding clothes 
 and all their money, some five or six thousand dollars, leav- 
 ing only some dirty clothes, the clothing she was wearing, 
 and some few dollars that the captain happened to have on 
 his person. Mrs. Hunt was lying on an old cot and had 
 barely enough clothes to hide her nakedness. She had torn 
 up an old calico wrapper and made three little slips for the 
 baby, and they, with some pieces of an old tent fly for diapers, 
 were all the clothing the baby had. I, found Mrs. Hunt a 
 very intelligent, well-reared lady, about twenty-one years old. 
 I immediately drew up a petition to General Winder, the 
 commandant of the post, to allow her and the baby to be sent 
 out in the country and boarded out, and had all the surgeons 
 at the post, sixty in number, to sign it, which took several 
 days, but by the time she was able to be moved, I had gotten 
 all the names signed to the petition. I took it to General 
 Winder and he read it and asked me what it meant; that he 
 thought he had sent her away. I told him no, that I had 
 understood he had sent one lady away, but that this was 
 Captain Hunt's wife and that she was still in prison. He 
 then remarked, "I wish I could send her out as you suggest, 
 but, doctor, it is against the rules of war, and I am not allowed 
 to do it." I then said to him, "General, there are many 
 things that we meet in war that we have to shut our eyes to." 
 He looked at me for a few seconds, closed his eyes and turned 
 to his desk and said, "I don't see anything in the world." I 
 said no more, but understood what he meant, and left the 
 office. I went out in the country about one and a half miles 
 from the prison, to an old farmer named Smith, and asked 
 him to board her, but he was afraid for fear the Confederate 
 soldiers would arrest him for boarding her. I told him that 
 I would give him a certificate that would protect him. He 
 
232 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 then said, "Go and talk to my wife." I did, but she at first 
 refused positively to take her. Said I, "Mrs. Smith, have 
 you any daughters?" She said, "Yes, sir." I then said, 
 "Suppose one of your daughters should get married and go 
 off on a little v^edding tour, and the Federal soldiers should 
 capture her and her husband, and put them in a Northern 
 prison and keep them there for a year, and she was to become 
 a mother there, and some kind-hearted Northern man was to 
 try to get her boarded out in the country where she and her 
 babe could be cared for, how would you feel if no one would 
 take her because she was a Southern woman?" The big tears 
 were rolling down her cheeks as she spoke, and these tears 
 spoke, louder than words, the feelings of her heart. The 
 next morning I got on the train and went up to Macon, Ga., 
 and called on a friend of mine who had been merchandising 
 when the war broke out and asked if he had any goods or 
 remnants in his store, and told him what I wanted. We went 
 to his storehouse, and found several remnants of flannels, 
 calico, domestics, and several little things needed. He then 
 took me to another place, to a friend of his, and there got 
 quite a little lot of just the things we needed, in all. about six 
 hundred dollars' (Confederate money) worth. This meant 
 about thirty dollars' worth in gold. I returned to Anderson- 
 ville with the goods and gave them to a negro prisoner that 
 I had paroled to attend to my office, and told him to take 
 them to Mrs. Hunt, and tell her that a man got off the train 
 and gave them to him, after asking him if there was not a 
 Yankee prisoner's wife there with a little baby, and for him 
 to take the things to her; that he did not know him at all, 
 and that he believed he was a Yankee officer, as he had a big 
 duster, but that he had a blue coat under the duster (I had 
 put on a blue blouse on purpose). And I told the negro. Jack, 
 that if he let Mrs. Hunt know that I had sent the goods to 
 her I would put him back in the stockade at once. She told 
 Jack that he was lying, and that she knew it was I, but 
 Jack swore by all that was holy, that he had not seen me 
 at all, and that it was not I. I did not want her or her 
 husband to know that I had sent them. I did not want them 
 to feel under any obligations to me on that account. 
 
 The next morning I took Mrs. Hunt out to Mrs. Smith's, 
 
A MARRIAGE IN CHICAGO, ETC. 233 
 
 and when we reached there, Mrs. Smith met us at the ambu- 
 lance, and put her arms around Mrs. Hunt's neck and kissed 
 her, and told her she would be a mother to her, which she 
 was as long as Mrs. Hunt was there. 
 
 In the meantime I had made Captain Hunt a hospital ward- 
 master, with a parole to go to Mr. Smith's and stay with his 
 wife every night. When they had been out there some six 
 weeks, Professor Joseph Jones was ordered to Andersonville 
 to make post-mortem examinations and, if possible, discover 
 the cause of the great mortality among the prisoners. I 
 was compelled to assist him, and had to turn over my office 
 to the head clerk of the post surgeon, — Dr. R. R. Stevenson, 
 who. the first morning, in making out the morning reports, 
 reported Mrs. Hunt as boarded out, while I had had her in 
 prison on my reports. As soon as the report went to head- 
 quarters, a telegram was sent General Winder asking by 
 what authority he was boarding prisoners out in the country, 
 and ordering him to bring her in at once. He immediately 
 sent for me and handed me the telegram and told me that I 
 must bring her in at once, which I positively refused to do. 
 He then said, "If you won't, then I shall have to do it." So 
 I told him he could if he wished to, but that I would not. So 
 he ordered me to send my ambulance driver to him to get his 
 orders, which I did, but I also told the driver that after he got 
 General Winder's orders, then to come back to me for mine. 
 So when he came back I told him what was the matter, and 
 to go down into the bottom below the prison and to stay there 
 till I sent for him if it was a week; that I would send for him 
 and his team, if I did not send for him alone, that evening; 
 that I would not allow Mrs. Hunt brought in until I had pre- 
 pared a place to keep her. I then went to my foreman and 
 told him to go to the quartermaster and get a wall tent; I 
 told him where to put it up, to put two good cots, chairs and 
 table in it, and to go at once to the lumber yard and get 
 lumber and put up another cottage exactly like the five he 
 had just put up for the Confederate wardmaster, and to put 
 it by their side, and to have it done by sun-up the next morn- 
 ing. He said, "Doctor, I can't do it." I told him that he 
 must, and told him why. (He was a prisoner on parole.) 
 I said to him, "Take ten men, and if that is not enough, take 
 
234 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 twenty ; if they couldn't do it, take fifty or a hundred, but a 
 two-room cottage must be there to-morrow at sun-up." He 
 said, with an oath, "It'll be there." In the early morning, 
 just as the sun rose, the last nail was driven. 
 
 Mrs. Hunt was brought in as soon as the tent was put up, 
 and had been there but a few minutes, when the negro Jack 
 came by and she hailed him and said, "Jack, I am surprised 
 that you, a prisoner, and I a prisoner, and you could lie to 
 me as you did about those goods." Jack replied, "Miss Jennie, 
 I didn't lie to you." Mrs. Hunt said, "Jack, don't tell me any 
 more lies, for Dr. Kerr has already acknowledged that he sent 
 them; now don't lie any more about them." Jack stood look- 
 ing perfectly crestfallen and said, "Well, Miss Jennie, if the 
 Doctor has acknowledged it, I needn't deny it any longer." 
 She had completely caught Jack, and had found out that I had 
 sent the goods to her that made her and her babe the under- 
 clothes and dresses that lasted until the war closed and they 
 were released the next spring. 
 
 The next morning after the house was finished I had her 
 and Captain Hunt moved into it, and a few hours afterward 
 the Captain came into my office and handed me a letter from 
 Mrs. Hunt written in the finest language. It was the most 
 touching letter I ever read in my life, thanking me for the 
 interest I had taken in her and her darling little Harry (the 
 boy), a namesake of his father. In this letter was a splendid 
 diamond breastpin which belonged to Captain Hunt, and 
 begged that I would accept it as a gift, and token of their 
 appreciation of me, and the hope that I would wear it as long 
 as I lived for her sake and the baby's. I immediately sat down 
 and wrote her positively refusing to accept the pin in their 
 impoverished condition, and handed the letter and pin to 
 Captain Hunt, and told him to read it. I had written in the 
 letter that I would buy the pin and give them every cent it 
 was worth and wear it with equal pleasure, under the circum- 
 stances, as if it was a gift. Captain Hunt read the letter and 
 said, "Doctor, you need not send that letter to Jennie, for 
 there is not enough Confederate money made to buy that pin, 
 but we want you to wear it for Jennie and the baby." I told 
 him he need not ask me to do so. for I would not. Two days 
 afterward. Captain Hunt came into the office very hurriedly 
 
A MARRIAGE IN CHICAGO, ETC. 235 
 
 and said, "Doctor, little Harry is taken sick, and Jennie wants 
 you to come at once and see him." I told him to go on, that I 
 was too old to be caught that way. He said, "I am not trying 
 to fool yon, come on." Out he went in almost a run to the 
 house, which was in front of my window, some sixty yards 
 off. In a few moments, I saw him come to the door and look 
 out and turn as if talking to his wife; he then whirled and 
 came back to the office quite rapidly, and came up on the 
 steps and said, "Doctor, please come on, I am not trying to 
 fool you," and then back he went in a hurry. After he left 
 I thought possibly the baby was sick, and I should be very 
 sorry if it was, and I not see it, for it was "The Child of 
 the Regiment;" so I picked up my case and went to the 
 house. The door was standing about half open. As I stepped 
 in, Mrs. Hunt was behind the door and stepping out she threw 
 her arms around my neck, and with tears streaming down her 
 cheeks said, "Doctor, I will never turn you loose until you 
 promise me you will wear the pin for me and my baby as 
 long as you live." Before I could answer her, Captain Hunt 
 came up behind me and, grasping my arms, held them fast 
 until Mrs. Hunt placed the breastpin in my shirt bosom, and 
 / zvear it still, and unless some unforeseen accident happens, 
 I shall wear it as long as I live. I have lost it three times in 
 the forty-six years, (October, 1910), but fortunately found it 
 each time. 
 
 I have tried every way I know of to find Captain Hunt 
 and hi? wife, but have l)een entirely unable to do so, and I 
 have at last concluded that perhaps he was under an assumed 
 name in the prison. It was three years or more before I 
 could get in communication with Chicago trying to find Mrs. 
 Hunt's father, Thomas L. Scadden. but he had left there 
 shortly after Captain Hunt and Jennie married, and T could 
 get no trace of him. And this too with the assistance of 
 some of the Chicago officers for more than a year. Members 
 of the Grand Army of the Republic have also helped me but, 
 thus far, all in vain. I should be delighted to hear from them, 
 or from little Harry. Of course I do not know whether they 
 are living or dead ; I most sincerely wish I did. 
 
THE FIGHT AT DECATUR, JULY 22, 1864 
 
 By Rev. Thomas Harwood^ Chaplain of the 25TH 
 
 Wisconsin Volunteers 
 
 It was here that the Second Brigade of the Seventeenth 
 Army Corps, including the 25th Wisconsin Volunteers, of 
 which I was chaplain, had to retreat before General Wheeler's 
 cavalry. We were camped south of the railroad of the town, 
 and our regiment and others had been called out to meet the 
 advancing foe. The doctor and I were left with the ambu- 
 lance corps of fifteen or twenty or more ambulances, with 
 sick and wounded men. 
 
 At about ten or eleven, the shells of the enemy's guns began 
 to fly over quite rapidly. The doctor said, "Chaplain, we 
 must get out of this." He ordered the ambulances hitched 
 up, and to follow him as rapidly as possible to the field 
 hospital. I remained until the last ambulance was filled with 
 the sick and wounded, and crossed over the railroad, at the 
 only place in sight where we could cross. Just as the last 
 amlDulance was over, and I with it, I heard for the first time 
 in the army, the command, "Retreat." It came from General 
 Sprague of the brigade. As he gave the command, he and 
 his staff whirled and went as rapidly as their horses could 
 carry them. The ambulances also in a fast trot, and some- 
 times in a gallop, hurried away under the bursting shells. I 
 could not keep up with the General and his staff, and wheeled 
 to the right, under cover of the trees and bushes. The shells 
 were screaming through the woods, cutting off limbs, some of 
 them falling upon the horse and rider. One shell struck a 
 sapling, and knocked the bark off, which struck me on the 
 arm. A shell passed right under the horse's neck and ex- 
 ploded. As I came out of the woods, and reached the main 
 
 236 
 
THE FIGHT AT DECATUR, JULY 22, 1864 2^7 
 
 street of the town, I found the brigade in line of battle, hold- 
 ing the enemy at bay for a while. As I rode up, a poor boy 
 was wounded. I jumped off the horse and drew him up in the 
 saddle on the sidewalk. I had a few handfuls of oats for the 
 horse in a sack, and put in under the boy's head for a pillow. 
 Soon another was wounded, and I put him on my horse and 
 told him to make for the field hospital. He did, and was 
 saved. Soon we were called farther uptown to another 
 wounded man, and we put him in the rear of the courthouse, 
 where we had made a temporary hospital. The colonel saw me, 
 and excitedly asked, "Chaplain, do you know where the 
 major and the other three companies are?" I answered, "Up 
 town, fighting for all there is in it." He asked, "Can you 
 get there?" "Yes," I replied, "I'm going now to bring out 
 another wounded man." He said, "Tell the major to rally 
 to the flag at the courthouse." Quicker than I am in telling it, 
 they were off on the double quick, a half mile or more for 
 the courthouse, leaving me, stretcher bearers and wounded 
 men. As we were hurrying along up the street, a shell came 
 plowing through the roof of a house and exploded a little 
 beyond. Two women came running out, partially dressed, and 
 cried out, "What shall we do? What shall we do?" We said, 
 "Ladies, rally to the courthouse," at which they inquired, 
 "How shall we get there?" I replied, "We are going there, 
 and I will go with you." They gave their skirts a tight twist, 
 and almost flew, leaving me behind. The boys, including the 
 wounded men, all laughed, to see the Rebel women outrun 
 the chaplain. Just as \ve reached the flag the order was again 
 given to retreat, which we did in pretty good order. We 
 went to the place we made our stand, which was a mile from 
 town. About eleven o'clock that night we went back with our 
 ambulances, gathering up our wounded, and the ambulances 
 were filled. 
 
 The major returned with the ambulances, but I went back 
 to the town, even into the hotels, where I found a number 
 of our wounded men, nicely placed on beds and couches, being 
 kindly cared for by several ladies. At first I was so over- 
 come at the sight of our wounded and dying men, and being 
 so kindly cared for by those Confederate ladies, that I could 
 hardly speak. As I recovered a little from my feelings, I said. 
 
238 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 "Ladies, I am glad to see you here caring for our poor boys." 
 One of them said, "What do you take us to be, sir?" If 
 angels ever looked down complacently upon a scene of kind- 
 ness and merit, it must have been w^hen they looked down upon 
 those Confederate women, at that midnight hour, caring for 
 those who, just before, had been fighting against them. 
 
A TOUCHING STORY OF THE DEATH OF NINE 
 CONFEDERATES 
 
 By Frank S. Roberts, Co. C, Second Georgia Battalion 
 Sharpshooters, Army of Tennessee, C. S. A. 
 
 In the spring of 1864, while the Army of the Tennessee, 
 under General Joseph E. Johnston, was in headquarters at 
 Dalton, Ga., the brigade encamped next to ours moved, the 
 vacated camp being occupied by a brigade of General E. C. 
 Walthall's division. The command busied itself in putting 
 the camp in good condition, and, as the weather was still 
 sharp, fires were built to make things more comfortable. A 
 fire was built at the foot of a very large old oak tree, that 
 was dead, and it burned steadily for a day or two. On 
 Saturday night, the camp having been put in order, the men 
 were assembled at prayer meeting near where the oak tree 
 stood, and in the midst of the service, without any warning, 
 the tree, which had burned through, fell with a crash into the 
 midst of the men, its long limbs reaching out among them, 
 and nine men were killed and a number wounded. This 
 terrible occurrence cast a deep gloom over the entire camp 
 as the news of it spread rapidly. 
 
 The next day, Sunday, was a lovely day, and in the after- 
 noon just before sundown, the bodies of the nine men, having 
 been placed in plain coffins, were reverently placed in three 
 large army wagons, the men of the brigade formed in 
 column, and, preceded by a band playing a funeral dirge, they 
 escorted the remains to a piece of woods nearby, on a little 
 knoll, and as the sun was setting, the nine coffins were lowered 
 into the graves prepared for them, three volleys were fired, 
 taps were sounded, and nine gallant men were at rest. I 
 never witnessed a sadder sight in my life, nor did music ever 
 
 239 
 
240 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 sound sweeter than that beautiful dirge, carrying sorrow to 
 our hearts as it did. These brave men died far from home, 
 with no loving hands of mother, sister nor wife to lay a flower 
 upon them. 
 
 It was not very long after this that the army moved out 
 of winter quarters, to meet General Sherman in that great 
 campaign from Dal ton to Atlanta, Ga., where many more 
 of General Walthall's brave men fell in battle. 
 
THE SAD WAR EXPERIENCES OF TWO IOWA 
 BROTHERS* 
 
 By H. I. Smitii^ Captain /th Iowa Infantry 
 
 There were only two of us, Peter and I. Notwithstanding 
 that Ave were the only sons of a widowed mother, with two 
 younger sisters, living on a farm in Cerro Gordo, then a 
 frontier county in the State, we had both enlisted early in the 
 war, and were among the first who started for the front. I had 
 gone first, early in 1861, with mother's consent and blessing, 
 with the understanding that my brother should remain at 
 home and work the farm. He stayed, apparently contented, 
 until the following winter, when I returned on a furlough 
 from Mound City hospital, where I had been for treatment 
 for a severe gunshot wound in the right shoulder received at 
 the battle of Belmont, Mo., November 7, 1861. 
 
 They laid me on mother's bed when I was brought home. 
 My brother was away at the time and did not return until 
 evening. When he came home, mother told him to go into 
 her bedroom and see who was there. The first intimation he 
 had that I had returned was when he saw me there. I shall 
 never forget his looks at that time. I was very much 
 emaciated from the effects of my wound and the exposure 
 and neglect following, having been left on the battlefield in 
 the hands of the Rebels, and receiving no medical attendance 
 until over twenty- four hours after the battle. He was very 
 much affected at seeing me in that condition. He was then 
 about nineteen years of age, with a form and physique the 
 perfection of manhood and health, well rounded out by a life 
 of toil and privation on the frontier of Iowa. His face at 
 first flushed, then every drop of blood seemed to have left it, 
 
 * Permission of Annals of Iowa. 
 
 24I 
 
242 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 and it was blanched and hard, and the bloodless lips set in 
 straight, cruel lines. It was some time before he could con- 
 trol his feelings so that he dared attempt to speak. He finally 
 calmed down and talked to me about the war, asked where 
 my regiment was, and a few particulars about my route home, 
 when he said : "I shall have revenge for this. I have been 
 chafing to get away to the front ever since you went to the 
 war, and I can stand it no longer." He said: "Say nothing 
 to mother and sisters about it at present," and he was gone. 
 
 He went straight to the front, joined my regiment in time 
 to take an active part in the dangerous and arduous campaign 
 with General Grant, in the siege and capture of Forts Henry 
 and Donelson, being assigned to Lauman's Brigade, which 
 led the charge in the capture of Fort Donelson. He endured 
 all the privations of the rain, mud and snow, away from tents 
 and supplies, in the most inclement season of the year, inci- 
 dent to that campaign; from there he went to Shiloh, where 
 he was wounded in the shoulder by a fragment of a shell, the 
 first day of the battle, being in that portion of the field 
 designated by the Rebels as the "Hornet's Nest," on account 
 of the stubborn resistance encountered at that part of our 
 line — they having been unable to break through at that point. 
 Notwithstanding he was wounded and nearly disabled, he re- 
 fused to go to the rear, but stayed with his company and 
 fought all through both days of the battle. 
 
 By this time I had sufficiently recovered from my wound 
 to be able for light duty, and had returned to my regiment. 
 During the night, between the two days' fight, our regiment 
 was ordered not to move from their tracks, and not a man 
 left the ranks. At dark the battle gradually subsided from 
 a continuous roar of artillery and musketry to a desultory 
 firing here and there along the line, and the men were allowed 
 to lie down on their arms and take a much-needed rest. My 
 brother's place in the ranks came in a road, which had been 
 used through the day by the troops, artillery, ammunition 
 wagons and ambulances, passing back and forth, and, being 
 wet, had been churned into a perfect pudding of mud, on 
 which he spread his blanket and lay down. The night set 
 in dark and rainy, and no fires were allowed in the front. 
 Its stillness was broken by occasional musket shots and the 
 
TWO IOWA BROTHERS 243 
 
 regular firing of 9-inch shells every fifteen minutes from the 
 gunboats Lexington and Tyler, which went screeching over- 
 head, bursting among the enemy in the woods beyond, 
 and the moaning of the wounded as they were carried 
 through the lines to the hospital tents in the rear. All night 
 long the tramp of the ambulance corps with the stretchers 
 and loads of suffering humanity could be heard, and the 
 pitiless rain poured down incessantly, making both wounded 
 and well uncomfortable. In the morning my brother got up 
 out of his mud wallow, soaking wet, and so stiff and sore he 
 could scarcely move, leaving his blanket where it lay, but 
 could not be induced to go to the hospital or to the rear. He- 
 stayed with the company and participated in the battle until 
 the Rebels were routed and driven from the field. Sunday 
 morning, when the battle began, our regiment was away from 
 our camp on inspection, and was ordered from there to the 
 left of the army without going back to quarters. On our 
 return to our tents after the battle, we found they had been 
 occupied by the enemy. They had gone so suddenly that 
 they had left many of their wounded in our camp. From 
 my tent they had taken everything they could carry, includ- 
 ing my violin, and left one of their wounded, a mere youth, 
 whom we tenderly nursed and cared for several days, until 
 he was taken to the field hospital. 
 
 My brother had a perfect horror of going to the hospital, 
 and insisted on staying in camp when it was apparent that 
 he was failing every day. He remained with the company 
 until the army was ready to move on the campaign to Corinth, 
 and insisted that he was able to march with the regiment. He 
 fell in with the company with his knapsack, gun and accouter- 
 ments, and started on the march, only to fall behind the first 
 mile, I dropped back with him and encouraged him by 
 first carrying his gun ; he went on a little farther and gave 
 out again. After resting a while I took his knapsack 
 and accouterments, and he went a little farther and gave out 
 again. We sat down beside the road until darkness began to 
 overtake us. when an orderly came along, piloting our regi- 
 mental teams, and told us that the regiment had gone into 
 camp about two miles beyond, pointing the direction they 
 were. The teamster took my brother's gun and knapsack, but 
 
S44 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 refused to let him ride, as he had such a load, and had strict 
 orders not to let anyone ride. We started through the woods 
 to camp in the direction indicated by the orderly, leaving the 
 traveled road. We were not yet off the battlefield when 
 darkness overtook us; it began to rain and we got lost, 
 'Stumbled and wandered around until finally we could see the 
 camp fires, toward which we started. My brother fell into a 
 shallow trench or grave where some of those killed in battle 
 had been buried. The bodies had been entombed just long 
 enough to become decomposed and there being scarcely any 
 earth over them, he got nearly up to his knees in putrified 
 humanity. • I pulled him out amid such a horrible stench that 
 I could scarcely stand it, and we made our way to camp, 
 where we arrived about twelve o'clock at night. He smelled 
 so badly that the boys could not stay in the tent with him in 
 that condition, so we stripped him of all his clothing, rolled 
 him up in a blanket and laid him in the tent, as he did not 
 have a change of clothing, and I took his clothes to a creek 
 and washed them out and hung them by the camp fire to dry. 
 He had a burning fever all through the night and was not 
 able to sit up the next morning, so the regimental surgeon 
 sent him back to the hospital in an ambulance. 
 
 Until after the battle of Shiloh, the discipline in camp and 
 field had been somewhat lax, and the experience of careless- 
 ness and surprise at that time had led the officers to see the 
 necessity of being more strict and watchful for a wary foe, 
 until they had gone almost to the other extreme of strictness 
 and discipline, as they saw the stern fact of a long and pitiless 
 war upon us. 
 
 We continued our march and approach to Corinth, skir- 
 mishing, fighting, entrenching and advancing every day, and 
 I heard nothing of my brother until about May loth. when 
 word came to me from the rear that he was on the hospital 
 steamer City of Memphis at Pittsburg Landing, dying, and 
 wanted to see me. I went to my colonel, E. W. Rice, and 
 asked him for a two days' leave of absence to go to him. He 
 said he would be willing to grant my request, only that he 
 was afraid I might get captured by the Rebel cavalry, or 
 guerrillas, if I went alone, and suggested that I might get 
 detailed as one of the guards to the wagon trains that were 
 
TWO IOWA BROTHERS 245 
 
 hauling supplies from our base on the Tennessee River. I 
 told him I would undertake to do so if he would give me 
 permission and a pass; he did so and had it approved by 
 General Davies, our division commander. I looked around 
 among the wagon-masters of the different divisions to find 
 one going to the landing, but could not find any going that 
 day, so I made up my mind to go alone and take the night for 
 it. I made my way to the rear of the army and waited for 
 darkness. As soon as it became dusk I started, skirting the 
 roads so as to avoid meeting or being overtaken by guerrillas 
 or bushwhackers. I heard squads of horsemen several times 
 during the night, when I would skulk in the brush or slide 
 behind trees and wait until they passed. It was too dark for 
 me to discern whether they were friends or foes. 
 
 I arrived at the outposts at the landing at daylight, having 
 marched over twenty miles by the road, the latter part of the 
 journey being over the battleground of Shiloh, where I had 
 to pick my way through fallen trees, skeletons of horses, 
 unknown graves and the general debris of the late strife. I 
 encountered a few pickets near the landing, who allowed me 
 to pass. 
 
 The gunboats Lexington and Tyler I could dimly see in the 
 dusky fog, anchored in mid-stream, with their black hulls 
 and big guns looking angrily out of the portholes, guarding 
 the supplies on the bluffs, and the hospital steamer whose bow 
 was stuck in the mud of the bank, with her stern swung out 
 in the stream. It was just getting daylight and there w^as no 
 stir on board as yet. I stepped upon the gangplank to go on 
 board, when I was confronted by two guards with fixed 
 bayonets, and cold, unfeeling looks, who refused to let me 
 pass. I explained my mission and begged them to allow me 
 to go on board, which they refused to do, saying they had 
 positive orders not to pass anyone. I asked to see the surgeon 
 or officer in charge, but they said he had not yet got up, so 
 I sat down on the bank and waited. The first officer I saw 
 was a young doctor who came out of the cabin, and began 
 fishing over the stern of the steamer. I hailed him and ex- 
 plained to him my errand and asked him to be allowed to go 
 on board and see my brother. He said he could not allow 
 me to do so, giving as a reason that men had got on the boats 
 
246 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 upon one pretext or another, and had gone North on French 
 furlough or deserted — that the orders were not to allow any 
 soldiers on board but the guards, nurses and wounded. I 
 told him I would pledge my word as a soldier and a gentle- 
 man that if he would grant me an interview with my brother, 
 I would go ashore and return to my regiment at the front at 
 once. I held my pass in my hand and asked him to come and 
 read it for himself, stating that it was given by Colonel Rice 
 and approved by General Davies, but he was inexorable and 
 relentless, and no amount of persuasion would induce him to 
 change or modify his decision; so I sat down sorrowfully on 
 the bank to devise some way to circumvent the orders, or, 
 Micawber-like, "wait for something to turn up." 
 
 I realized that whatever was done must be done soon, as 
 my leave of absence would expire on the morrow, and my 
 regiment was over twenty miles away, and advancing. I was 
 tired, hungry, and footsore from my all-night march. As I 
 sat there eating hardtack and raw bacon, and watching the 
 doctor fishing, he would occasionally look at me, and I 
 fancied he was uneasy and that his heart was softening. He 
 finally hailed me and asked me if I could find him some 
 angleworms for bait. I told him pleasantly I would do my 
 best to do so. I thought if I could find them he would allow 
 me to go on board to see my brother. I dug around the bank 
 with my bayonet, but was unsuccessful, so I went back about 
 half a' mile to a field and was fortunate in finding some, and 
 returned and called to him that I had some. He told me to 
 come on board and bring them to him, which I very gladly 
 hastened to do. I went again to the gangplank, and was 
 again stopped by the same guards. I again went and called 
 the doctor, and he ordered them to let me pass. I passed to 
 the stern, handed the bait to the doctor and hurried up the 
 after gangway to the cabin. It was a very large steamer; the 
 staterooms were full of sick and wounded, and there was a 
 long row of cots full, on each side of the cabin. I searched 
 for some time among the crowd of suffering humanity before 
 I found my brother, and when I did I scarcely knew him. He 
 was so emaciated, weak and low as to be hardly able to speak. 
 He was entirelv overcome when he saw me ; we clasped hands, 
 and I waited for him to grow calm and get strength enough 
 
TWO IOWA BROTHERS 247 
 
 to talk, which seemed a long time. I was so overcome with 
 grief that I dared not trust myself to speak, and we did 
 nothing for some time but look tearfully into each other's 
 eyes. I could see plainly that I should see him no more after 
 this interview, for the mark of death v/as plainly on his 
 brow. 
 
 We finally got calm and talked a little; with tearful eyes, 
 and a weak, nervous, convulsive motion of his lips, he told me 
 he was aware he had not long to live and was so glad I had 
 come to see him. He was about delivering a message for me 
 to send to mother and the folks at home, when an officer and 
 a detail of soldiers came down the aisle, and with a braggart's 
 important air, which broke so harshly on our feelings of grief 
 and affliction, absolutely drove me from the boat at the point 
 of the bayonets, in the face of my dying brother's pleading 
 and imploring helplessness, and my begging to allow him to 
 finish his last message and to bid me good-by; but it was of 
 no avail ; I was mercilessly thrust ashore and I never saw 
 him again. 
 
 I saw over four years of service in the war, two and a 
 half in the ranks and the remainder of the time as a com- 
 missioned officer, always in the very front, but this was the 
 hardest thing I ever had to bear, either in war or peace. 
 
 I realize that after the surprise, the confusion and de- 
 moralization during the battle of Shiloh, it was necessary to 
 have strict orders and thorough discipline, but in the face of 
 all this, conceding everything, as time has softened many 
 things and explained others, I still think, and always expect 
 to, that for a cowardly, cold-hearted piece of meanness, that 
 capped the climax; and I shall always think that nobody but 
 cowardly officers and soldiers who skulked and sought duty 
 in the rear would ever be guilty of such acts. They certainly 
 might have discriminated in their orders enough to allow my 
 dying brother to finish his message to our widowed mother. 
 
 He died on May 12, 1863, among strangers, without a 
 friend to comfort him, on the hospital steamer City of 
 Memphis, on his way to Keokuk hospital, and was buried on 
 the banks of the Mississippi River, below Quincy. 
 
 Could he only have survived to reach home and lay his 
 suffering and weary head on the mother's bosom that had 
 
248 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 nourished him to strength and manhood, to go forth to do 
 battle for his country, he would have died satisfied ; and what 
 a comfort it would have been to her through all these long 
 years to have had the privilege of ministering unto him in 
 his last moments. 
 
 To this day I have never had the courage to tell our 
 mother the circumstances of his death, and I hope she may 
 never know them. 
 
 The recollections of that time, and the circumstances, come 
 back fresh to me over the lapse of more than a third of a 
 century, with a vividness as though it were but yesterday — 
 and they were my saddest experiences of the war. 
 
 Since the above was written the dear old mother died, and then this 
 brave, broken-hearted soldier joined his soldier brother by the river "up 
 yonder." — Editor. 
 
A FOURTH OF JULY IN A SOUTHERN PRISON- 
 ESCAPE— PERILOUS JOURNEY NORTH* 
 
 By J. Madison Drake^ Captain qth New Jersey Vol- 
 unteer Infantry 
 
 Captured with most of my company in the sanguinary 
 battle of Drewry's Bkiff, Va., May t6, 1864, hy a brigade of 
 Alabamians, under General Archibald Gracie, I was a few 
 hours afterward an inmate of Libby Prison in Richmond. I 
 was subsequently removed to Macon, Ga. Soon after my 
 incarceration in this pen, plans to escape were formed. At 
 Macon and Savannah tunneling projects, requiring painful 
 and patient labor, were cheerfully entered upon, but our labors 
 proved futile. If our keepers failed in their vigilance to 
 detect us, some detestable comrade ( ?), with a greed for Con- 
 federate notes or other favor, would convey to them informa- 
 tion of our operations. 
 
 At Macon 1800 officers celebrated the Fourth of July, our 
 enthusiasm being raised while the Confederate guards were 
 engaged in the usual morning count to ascertain whether all 
 were present. My gallant comrade. Captain Henry H. Todd, 
 of the 8th New Jersey, fortunately possessed a miniature silk 
 American flag, and taking it from his pocketbook, he held it 
 above his head. The cheering following this was the heartiest 
 I ever heard. The display of that tiny flag caused great excite- 
 ment on the part of the Confederates, and fearing that some- 
 thing unpleasant to themselves might happen, they withdrew 
 from the yard, soon after, however, returning with a largely 
 
 * Captain Drake, afterward General Drake, received a medal from Con- 
 gress for great gallantry during the war, this being the highest decoration 
 given by the United States Government. — Editor. 
 
 249 
 
250 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 increased force. Of course they stopped our singing and 
 speechmaking for a time, but we kept them in a stew all day, 
 as they were compelled to stand in a broiling sun, under arms. 
 
 When the yellow fever reached its worst stage in September, 
 we were transported from Savannah to Charleston, myself 
 and others being thrown into the jail yard among vile crimi- 
 nals. In the jail yard I was given accommodations at the foot 
 of the rough scaffold, with a spot of earth three feet by six, 
 and here I was compelled to remain during the long and dreary 
 days and nights. The almost constantly bursting shells from 
 the "Swamp Angel," which sent its screaming compliments to 
 us, had some terrors, but they were insignificant when the 
 dangers from yellow fever were considered. The jail yard 
 was a noisome spot, — a fetid place, — a circumscribed world. 
 
 My thoughts weighed heavily upon me during my captivity, 
 but never so painfully as at Charleston, where I had no diver- 
 sion, even tunneling being out of the question. I had no cor- 
 respondence with my family or friends, and was profoundly 
 ignorant of events transpiring in the outer world. 
 
 Early in October rumors prevailed that we were to be re- 
 moved to some other point, and believing an opportunity for 
 escape would now present itself, I invited three friends — Cap- 
 tains Elarry H. Todd, 8th New Jersey; Alfred Grant, 19th 
 Wisconsin, and J. E. Lewis, nth Connecticut, to join me in 
 an attempt to regain the freedom we ardently coveted, and 
 for which we had repeatedly and arduously toiled. Provi- 
 dentially, we found a portion of an old school map of South 
 Carolina, and after carefully studying it, quickly decided upon 
 a plan of action. 
 
 Next morning. October 6th, 600 of our number were 
 marched to the railroad station, where we took passage on 
 dilapidated cars, attached to which was a rickety, wheezing, 
 wood-burning locomotive. As our long train passed slowly 
 along the outskirts of the pestilential city, we saw a camp on 
 the old race course, filled with the most wretched looking 
 beings it ever fell to my lot to look upon. They were Union 
 soldiers — prisoners of war. Although we were greatly dis- 
 tressefl. many of us in rags, covered with filth and vermin, 
 and half starved, others unable to stand on account of scurvy, 
 yet our hearts went out to those brave enlisted men, thus hud- 
 
FOURTH OF JULY IN PRISON— ESCAPE, ETC. 251 
 
 died together in the open air, with nothing save the ground for 
 a bed and the sky for a covering. 
 
 My three companions and I having matured our plans for 
 flight, all that remained was to put them into execution. Dur- 
 ing the day I had taken the precaution to remove the percus- 
 sion caps from the muskets of the seven armed Confederate 
 guards who bore us company in the box car. I did this to 
 prevent the guards from firing in the excitement attending our 
 flight. Darkness was rapidly coming on as our train reached 
 the long wooden structure spanning the Congaree River, a 
 short distance above its confluence with the swift-flowing 
 Wateree. The intense excitement into which our minds had 
 been thrown, the resolve to seek home, friends, and liberty, 
 overcame the sense of peril, and the instant Captain Todd gave 
 the long-expected sii^nal. we each sprang from the swiftly 
 moving car, and for the time at least, were free. 
 
 We had no time after reaching terra firma to reflect upon 
 the terrors of our new situation. But those rifle flashes — we 
 could not hear their reports, so distant was the train — warned 
 us that if we would have perfect freedom, much remained to 
 be done, and done quickly. 
 
 In the midst of a most fearful storm, — indeed a veritable 
 tornado, — we plunged into a dark and forbidding-looking 
 cypress swamp. It was a very disagreeable refuge. We could 
 discover no ground on w^hich to tread, no place to rest our 
 bodies, the water and mud becoming quite deep. But the fierce 
 baying of bloodhounds, and the hoarse voice of our excited 
 pursuers, which we heard all through the long night, admon- 
 ished us to submit to every discomfort rather than endanger 
 our highly prized freedom. 
 
 Convinced that the water through which we had waded had 
 destroyed our trail, and that so long as we remained in our 
 present position the dogs would be unable to reach our hiding 
 place, we studiously avoided all conversation during the night 
 and following day, remaining perfectly quiet. At the close 
 of a wearisome day a new moon rose and we cautiously made 
 our way to the edge of the swamp, which we found at this 
 point to be bordered by a plantation. We now emerged from 
 cover and. skirting the river's bank, pushed forward. 
 
 Before leaving Charleston we had taken the precaution to 
 
252 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 place pieces of raw onions in our boots, having been advised 
 so to do by an old Tennessee captain, who assured us it would 
 effectually destroy the scent of our footsteps, and thus deprive 
 the clogs of their prey. The moon helped us greatly. Toward 
 daybreak, being weary, we halted for a needed rest, and shortly 
 after resuming our tramp, reached a broad highway, where 
 we found a milestone, marked "27 to C." Having no desire 
 to visit Columbia, whither our comrades had gone the day 
 before, we hastily struck off toward the river, and had gone 
 but a few steps when a pack of ferocious dogs came bounding 
 after us. A long run enabled us to escape, and while we were 
 congratulating ourselves, we suddenly ran almost directly upon 
 three men standing near a sawmill. Darting into a neighbor- 
 ing swamp, we eluded our enemies, who had taken up the 
 chase. A deep and swiftly running stream now confronted us, 
 and unless we could cross it, our capture seemed certain. We 
 found a tree which had fallen across the stream, and we got 
 across and plunged immediately into the depths of a dense 
 jungle. Serpents of various kinds finally compelled us to seek 
 safety on the trunk of a huge pine tree. We had considerable 
 difficulty in getting out of the svv^amp after the sun went down, 
 but that evening we had a fine repast of sweet potatoes, a few 
 of which we found in a patch near by. 
 
 Before the lapse of a week, however, we met with a terrible 
 misfortune in the loss of our cooking utensils, knives, forks, 
 spoons, towels, several boxes of matches, etc. The rations with 
 which we had provided ourselves before starting had given 
 out, and we sought sustenance in the cornfields, swamps, and 
 woods, and early one morning were enjoying a feast near a 
 sweet potato patch when a party of horsemen dashed furiously 
 toward us. We sprang intuitively to our feet, and darted in 
 an opposite direction, leaving most of our necessaries behind. 
 
 While dangers of greater or less magnitude constantly sur- 
 rounded us, thev were as nothing compared to the question of 
 subsistence, which soon began to grow unpleasantly urgent, 
 and at length became so desperate that it looked as if we should 
 be driven to seek food at the houses of planters, a proceeding 
 we had determined not to do, as we knew we should receive 
 from them neither food nor mercy. For several days we wan- 
 dered along the outskirts of fields, diligently seeking corn, and 
 
FOURTH OF JULY IN PRISON— ESCAPE, ETC. 253 
 
 occasionally finding a stray ear, which, spurred by a ravenous 
 appetite we managed to masticate. Still, on we pressed for 
 home. 
 
 Often and again, when upon the verge of starvation, we 
 were strongly inclined to visit cabins of the negroes, in whom 
 we had almost absolute faith, but despite this, we as often 
 refused to jeopardize our situation until certain we could find 
 some one in whom to put our trust, and, with it, our lives. 
 
 We did not make a serious attempt to seek help from the 
 slaves until we reached a point 250 miles from Charleston, 
 where, one afternoon, we found a number at work in a field. 
 We experienced no difficulty in satisfying the negroes that we 
 were Yankee officers, escaping from bondage, and as soon as 
 darkness fell, they hastened to our hiding place, and at once 
 piloted us to their lowly cabins, displaying the utmost delight 
 at our presence. After this experim.ent we did not hesitate to 
 seek them out. 
 
 There was something almost royal in the cheerfully rendered 
 services of these poor creatures, who seemed to look on us as 
 in some way sufferers for their sakes, and they fairly loaded 
 us with kindnesses, — oftentimes insisting on our accepting the 
 last pound of their corn meal. They also gave us information 
 as to the whereabouts of Confederate soldiers, and the best 
 route to the mountains, for which we were aiming. When we 
 parted, they invariably bestowed heartfelt blessings. 
 
 One night, when on the verge of despair, being too weak to 
 continue our journey, we determined to risk a visit to some 
 negro shanties, to obtain, if possible, palatable food, of which 
 we so badly stood in need. While sitting near a broad road- 
 way, debating as to the best course to pursue, we saw an object 
 slowly approaching in the moon's clear light, and when directly 
 opposite us, we rose from our hiding place in the bushes, and 
 confronted the visitor, who proved to be a very old negro. On 
 his left arm was suspended a large basket, which we found 
 contained an immense "pone." The old man was naturally 
 surprised when we took the loaf, tore it in pieces and began 
 to devour it. When told that we were Yankee officers escap- 
 ing from Charleston, the aged midnight stroller, in salutation 
 exercises, gave vent to the joy he felt by constant religious 
 exclamations. Before we bade him farewell, he supplied our 
 
254 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 wants with a quantity of corn meal and some salt, of which we 
 had long stood in great need. 
 
 We had another remarkable adventure at a late hour one 
 night near Dallas, N. C. Becoming almost breathless from a 
 long chase by some horsemen, we sat down in a dense woods 
 to recover. By and by we heard a man and woman approach- 
 ing, both singing from the depths of their lungs. Believing 
 them to be negroes, we concluded to invite their assistance, 
 and when the man had nearly reached us, we halted him. The 
 female, with a yell of terror, ran away like a frightened deer, 
 while the man, in a voice that betrayed nervousness, asked 
 who we were and what we wanted. His voice satisfied us 
 that he was a white man, and the click of a pistol gave evidence 
 of his ability to defend himself. Necessarily we resorted to 
 conventional strategy, putting and answering questions with 
 wariness. It required but a brief time, however, to discover 
 the status of the stranger, and probably he had never been em- 
 braced before with the vehement v/armth we displayed when 
 we learned that he was a loyalist, a firm friend of the Union. 
 He insisted upon our visiting his home, two miles away, which 
 we did by following a path in the woods, thus avoiding 
 mounted patrols which continually scoured the country. His 
 amiable wife, who had awaited his return, speedily prepared 
 an excellent supper, — the first we had had in six months, — to 
 which you may well imagine we each did the fullest justice, 
 the smiles and kindly words of our hostess seasoning the rich 
 repast. That night, sitting before the cheerful blaze of that 
 noble North Carolinian's great hearth, he told us the story of 
 the loyalty of the people in the western part of the State, prov- 
 ing to us that freedom still had brave defenders among the 
 hardy foresters of the "Old North State." When the morn- 
 ing's sun made its appearance, we were several miles beyond 
 Dallas, — our brave and genial host, C. C. Withers, an ex- 
 member of the legislature, having accompanied us some dis- 
 tance, and after directing us to other Unionists, he disappeared 
 in the deep shadows of the woods which surrounded us. 
 
 We resumed our journey with lighter hearts and nimbler 
 feet, notwithstanding the fact that our boots were fast giving 
 out. Long before we reached the roaring Catawba River, at 
 the foot of the mountains, I was compelled to walk barefooted, 
 
FOURTH OF JULY IN PRISON— ESCAPE, ETC. 255 
 
 and much as I suffered then, it was no comparison to what I 
 underwent afterward. 
 
 At sunrise one morning, while making our way through a 
 pine woods, and endeavoring to give a wide berth to the town 
 of Morgantown, a rendezvous for Confederate conscripts, we 
 were almost paralyzed to discover, but a few yards away, and 
 directly in our course, a magnificent-looking Confederate offi- 
 cer, in full uniform, mounted upon a fine horse. In his saddle 
 holsters were heavy revolvers, and at his side a glittering saber. 
 A retrograde movement on our part would be useless, and we 
 instinctively halted as the cavalier confronted us, with pity 
 depicted in his every look. 
 
 He asked no questions, but directed us to the best point for 
 crossing the Catawba, whose angry roar we could plainly hear, 
 and then, putting spurs to the noble animal he rode, dashed 
 away. He evidently recognized us as escaping prisoners, and 
 had not the heart to bar our way to liberty. 
 
 We hastened on, and in two hours stood upon a high bluff 
 overlooking the river, which, with the means at hand, required 
 two days' time to cross. Discovering apple trees in a field, we 
 descended and picked what fruit remained. It was while thus 
 engaged that we were discovered by a number of men at a 
 house on the opposite bank of the river. Seeing them hasten- 
 ing to the river's edge to take a boat we had observed moored 
 there, we took to our heels, and put as much distance as pos- 
 sible between us and them. They found our retreat at mid- 
 night, but again we succeeded in evading them. 
 
 The country about there seems to have been fully aroused, 
 for early next morning and through the day we saw parties 
 of men in various directions acting in an excited manner. 
 Toward the close of the day, however, we managed to reach 
 the river again by crawling through high dry weeds extending 
 almost from the woods to the water, and were made inexpres- 
 sibly happy soon after, by discovering a large flatboat, fastened 
 to a tree, lying a few yards up the stream. It required much 
 skill to guide and propel the unwieldy craft across the swiftly 
 running current, but we finally accomplished the task, and 
 shortly afterward had the satisfaction of witnessing its de- 
 struction among the rocks a few hundred yards below. 
 
 We had scarcely turned our backs upon the river ere the sky 
 
256 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 became overcast with dense black clouds, and early in the even- 
 ing a heavy rain-storm came up, adding greatly to our discom- 
 fort. Seeing a light in a small cabin in the wilderness, we 
 sought refuge from the storm. The occupant of the hut, a 
 white woman, surrounded by half a dozen small children, 
 said she had no accommodations, nor any food. The poor 
 friendless creature, however, had one solace — the snuff she 
 continually rubbed on her teeth with a well-worn stick. 
 
 While resuming our journey, the storm increased in vio- 
 lence ; the thunder broke along the luminous sky, and the light- 
 ning seemed to rend it in twain. We were mute and fright- 
 ened before the terrific grandeur of the warring elements. 
 
 In our slow and painful progress we stumbled over fallen 
 trees, ran against obstacles, and fell into water-filled excava- 
 tions. The woods being illumined by flashes of lightning, we 
 at length discovered a number of small houses. It seemed like 
 a village of the dead, so solemn was the silence which per- 
 vaded the place. A reconnoissance satisfied us that it was an 
 old camp-meeting ground, and we immediately entered a cabin, 
 built a fire and held service by drying our apparel. Shortly 
 after a litter of pigs w^ent by, and in half an hour afterward 
 three of them were broiling over our blaze in the chimney. 
 After a hearty meal, we climbed into bunks and slept serenely 
 till morning. 
 
 Our route lay through the mountain forests. The precipi- 
 tous hills rendered traveling difficult and fatiguing. Still, we 
 went on, climbing up and up, — ever climbing, — the prospect 
 growing more and more dreary step by step. There was no 
 road or beaten path to follow. 
 
 After flanking the town of Lenoir, we accidentally and 
 providentially fell in with a member of the numerous Estes 
 family, a stalwart Unionist, who escorted us up to a commo- 
 dious cave in a mountain, where we found a number of 
 deserters from the Confederate army, together with several 
 refugees. These brave men welcomed us with open arms, for 
 there was a sort of kinship between us w^hich made us at unce 
 the strongest friends. It was in this section that w-e became 
 associated with many of these brave and hardy mountaineers, 
 and had from scores of lips the story of their present life, 
 which was full of peril and sublime heroism. 
 
FOURTH OF JULY IN PRISON— ESCAPE, ETC. 257 
 
 We had but little difficulty in persuading a hundred and 
 more of these loyal North Carolinians to accompany us on our 
 pilgrimage to the Union lines, wherever they might be, reach- 
 ing which, we promised to use our influence in procuring them 
 arms, clothing, etc., and with but little hesitation they bade 
 their wives and little ones farewell, and started. 
 
 They said their wives would pray for them, and if they 
 were fortunate enough to procure arms and ammunition, then 
 they would return and be able to protect their homes, and put 
 an end to the atrocities committed in the name of the Confed- 
 eracy. How the weather-beaten faces of these men glowed 
 under the inspiration of that thought! 
 
 A fatiguing march of two days brought us to the summit of 
 Grandfather Mountain, which holds its head more than 6000 
 feet above the sea. Here we found the family of a Baptist 
 clergyman named Prickett. These good people, despite their 
 wretchedness, extended a kindly welcome, bidding us make 
 ourselves as comfortable as the limited capacity of the log 
 cabin allowed. Most of our party, however, continued on to 
 what \\a.s called the "Rock House," simply a huge boulder, 
 under which Mr. Prickett and his two sons had often found 
 refuge when sought for by Confederate soldiers. Mrs. 
 Prickett regretted she had nothing in the way of meat with 
 which to regale us, but shortly afterward, "Sim" Philyaw, a 
 noted Union scout, arrived with a young black bear he had 
 killed near the old sawmill below. This was a great surprise 
 for us all. Myself and three companions ate heartily of bruin's 
 carcass, the first bear meat I had ever tasted, and then made 
 our way to the place of refuge. 
 
 During the night a violent snow-storm set in, and when day 
 appeared, the ground was covered with fleecy flakes to the 
 depth of six or seven inches. My heart almost failed me, as 
 I remembered that I was without covering for my feet, my 
 boots long since having become useless; that I had no hat; 
 that my thin blouse was in tatters ; that my red flannel shirt, 
 which I had worn more than six months, without a change, 
 was threadbare, and that my trousers but reached to my knees. 
 I feared that I must now certainly perish, so intense was the 
 cold which had set in in earnest, so biting was the blast which 
 reached us at the altitude of nearly 7000 feet. 
 
258 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 Our guides informed us that it would be impossible to start 
 until the storm abated. After the noon hour we started and 
 my suffering increased as no tongue or pen can describe. Just 
 before night we were joined by Major E. A. Davis, of the 3d 
 North Carolina Infantry, who was on the mountain looking 
 for recruits. With his Henry rifle, a sixteen shooter, and a 
 heavy navy revolver, he was a valuable acquisition to our 
 party, and he supplied us with bear, wild hogs and occasion- 
 ally turkey. 
 
 We reached Crab Orchard, East Tennessee, Sunday, No- 
 vember 6th, but owing to the cold and the slippery state of the 
 walking, were compelled to make a stop. A Mr. Buck gen- 
 erously gave us a cow, which, being slaughtered, afforded us 
 a change of food. Most of our party quartered in a cave be- 
 tween two mountains, myself and companions stopping at the 
 comfortable home of Mr. Francis Marion Hampton, formerly 
 a member of the Tennessee legislature. He came down from 
 his covert on the mountain at midnight, and had a long talk 
 with us. He had inhabited a cave for more than a year. 
 
 Next day we again started, and feeling refreshed, marched 
 sv/iftly, despite a heavy rain and the rough condition of roads. 
 
 It was midnight when we reached a fordable point in the 
 French Broad River, and much difficulty was experienced in 
 crossing. Here the mule and horse, captured a few days 
 before by our party, proved of great usefulness. We used 
 the animals as ferry boats. Each carried two persons across 
 at a time, and by means of a long rope the animals were 
 guided back for their other passengers. Most of our party 
 had been ferried to the left bank, when the North Carolinians 
 and Tennesseeans became embroiled in a fight. Several were 
 badly cut in the encounter. We had much trouble in stopping 
 the fight and bringing about a reconciliation. A few days 
 after they engaged in another combat. The ascent of Higgins 
 ridge was accomplished, but not without great difficulty. From 
 its summit we could see Bull Gap, where a portion of the 
 Union army was said to be encamped. It was our objective 
 point, but it was a long distance away. Oh, what longings I 
 had to be there ! 
 
 Hastening along in gleeful mood, we were suddenly thrown 
 into a state of terror and demoralization by the sudden and 
 
FOURTH OF JULY IN PRISON— ESCAPE, ETC. 259 
 
 totally unexpected appearance of a number of horsemen, rid- 
 ing furiously upon an adjoining ridge, hoping thus to inter- 
 cept our descent into the valley. By dint of great effort we 
 succeeded in reaching the desired point and for the time being 
 evaded our enemies. Down the steep side of the great moun- 
 tain we went with accelerated pace, despite its roughness, all 
 the while keeping our eyes upon the Gap, as if it would take 
 wings and Hv away. A loud reverberation which came up 
 from the hitherto still valley shook the grand old hills about 
 us, causing the instantaneous halt of our party. What could 
 it be that caused the noise? The answer came the next mo- 
 ment in the unmistakable report of artillery and musketry; 
 and looking across the valley toward the Gap, the smoke aris- 
 ing from a battle then and there in progress was plainly visible. 
 Now, indeed, was my position discouraging. With an army 
 of the enemy directly across my path, and with cruel and des- 
 perate bushwhackers hovering about us, how should we escape 
 recapture, perhaps death? As the evening shadows fell there 
 came a sudden termination of the conflict. What would the 
 morrow bring forth ? 
 
 A young woman living at the foot of the mountain volun- 
 teered to ride across the valley for information. She had a 
 perilous journey, but returned in safety, and reported that 
 General Breckinridge's Confederate army had defeated Gen- 
 eral Gillem, the Union commander at Blue Lick Spring, and 
 was advancing through the Gap on Knoxville, a town of no 
 mean importance to the Union cause. 
 
 While awaiting the return of the young woman, a moun- 
 taineer, breathless with excitement, joined us, declaring the 
 guerrillas were hot on our trail, and that we must seek safety in 
 flight. Accordingly we sought refuge in a ravine between tower- 
 ing mountains, where we laid the flattering unction to our souls 
 that we would be immune from danger. Captains Todd and 
 Grant, with a mountaineer, went down to a hamlet at the foot 
 of the ravine, to procure rations and a pair of shoes, or some- 
 thing to cover my feet, which were naked. I did not again 
 see either of them within the Confederate lines, — in fact, not 
 until after "the cruel war was over." While they were absent, 
 a Tennesseean, commiserating my wretchedness, improvised 
 moccasins from a pair of rabbit skins which he found in a 
 
26o THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 corn-crib, and my pedals, thus enclosed, felt comfortable for 
 the first time in weeks. Besides the guerrillas who surrounded 
 us, our condition was rendered more wretched and pitiable 
 by the long fast we had been compelled to observe, — hard, dry 
 ears of corn being the only food obtainable, and this we 
 munched in bitterness of spirit. 
 
 While I was seated upon a log thinking, our camp was sud- 
 denly thrown into a state of commotion. For a moment my 
 senses were bewildered, but whizzing bullets and demoniac 
 yells, with the sound of the heavy hoofs of many horses, 
 speedily brought me to a realization of the danger surround- 
 ing us. Owing to the intense darkness, I saw nothing save 
 the lurid flashes from the firearms of our enemies, who, having 
 caught us napping, were now carrying on their devilish work, 
 firing and slashing wildly as they rode upon, and among the 
 helpless, sparing neither sex, age nor condition. I must have 
 forgotten my acute bodily ailments, for I found myself run- 
 ning, sometimes falling on the frost-covered ground, intent 
 only on escape. On, on, on, I went, my movements being accele- 
 rated by the whizzing of bullets which sped in too close prox- 
 imity to be pleasant ; but by and by, when faint and almost 
 exhausted, and apparently out of immediate danger, I sat down 
 to extricate a piece of stick which had been forced into the 
 fleshy part of my heel. 
 
 Alone, in misery, without food, and almost without appetite, 
 barefooted, my heart, fast throbbing in the exciting run for 
 life, had now nearly ceased to beat. As I sat there thinking 
 of my condition, the manifold dangers surrounding me, a 
 terrible fear took possession of me. I had no article of value 
 about me,— no money, no knife nor other weapon, no blanket, 
 no utensil in which to cook, nothing to cook; neither did I 
 know in which direction to turn, which course to pursue. What 
 had been the fate of my companions I knew not, nor had I any 
 means of ascertaining. Daylight came at last, bringing some 
 relief to my anxious mind. I was, however, on the brink of 
 despair, when sounds of an approaching party were borne to 
 my listening ears. Secreting myself, I soon became convinced 
 they were friends, and when near enough I recognized Cap- 
 tain Tewis and a score of the refugees who had followed us 
 from North Carolina. I cannot express the joy I felt as I 
 
FOURTH OF JULY IN PRISON— ESCAPE, ETC 261 
 
 bounded like a schoolboy down the mountain's side, to find the 
 firm comrade with whom I had set out on the fateful pil- 
 grimage. I was affectionately greeted, having been given up 
 for dead. We hastened away, keeping along under the heavy 
 shadows of the mountains, into which we could retreat did 
 such a step become necessary, but although we constantly 
 heard desultory firing in the direction of the railroad, and 
 occasionally saw frightened farmers along Pigeon and French 
 Broad Rivers, fleeing from the wrath to come, we managed to 
 escape observation, and march between twenty and thirty miles 
 a day. In less than a week we were safe within the Union 
 lines at Knoxville. whose citizens we found in a high state of 
 excitement, consequent upon the approach of Breckinridge's 
 half -starved army. 
 
 Reaching Washington, I reported to the adjutant general, 
 and a day or two after received the kisses of loved ones from 
 whom all through my captivity I had not heard a word, and 
 who long since had made up their minds they would never 
 see me again this side of that river which all must ford at the 
 roll call from above. 
 
TWO REMARKABLE INCIDENTS IN THE CROCKER 
 
 BRIGADE 
 
 By John Lett, Corporal, Co. E, iith Iowa Infantry 
 
 While Crocker's Brigade was lying in front of Kenesaw 
 Mountain, on June 15, 1864, two companies of the nth Iowa 
 were detailed to go on the skirmish line. I had been detailed 
 early in the morning as corporal with three men to do duty at 
 headquarters. After posting my guard at headquarters, I 
 looked down to the right and noticed a commotion in Co. E, 
 of which I was a member. I strolled down to the company, 
 and companies E and K were falling in line to go to the front ; 
 they had an extra supply of cartridges. As I passed through 
 the company, William Alexander called to me and said, "John, 
 I don't know what to do ; if I go out with the company, I shall 
 be killed; if I stay, I shall be called cowardly." I offered to 
 change places with him, but his manhood would not allow him 
 to do that. I went to the captain, and got him relieved; but 
 after thinking it over a moment, he put on his cartridge box, 
 got extra cartridges, and went into line in the company. The 
 two companies marched out to the skirmish line, relieved the 
 old guard, and in a very short time were ordered to charge the 
 Rebel skirmish line. The rest of the line had been filled up 
 with new companies the same as those in front of the nth 
 Iowa, 
 
 When they were ordered to charge, the whole line went for- 
 ward with a rush, and we watched companies E and K charge 
 furiously up to the Confederate line, and saw them at one end 
 of the line capture five Confederates, but Alexander never 
 reached the pits; he fell thirty or forty feet in front. The 
 Confederates were reinforced, and drove our line back to their 
 rifle pits, but poor Alexander was lying between the works, 
 and when the firing ceased, two of our boys went with a flag 
 
 262 
 
INCIDENTS IN THE CROCKER BRIGADE 263 
 
 of truce and brought him back and buried him. One other 
 boy, named Martin, of Co. E, charged past the Confederate 
 pits and was captured. We watched him as he was captured 
 by two Confederate patrols and saw him break his gun around 
 a tree. As they were taking him to the rear as a prisoner, 
 before they got to the main line a shell from our guns killed 
 the Confederate and our boy Martin. Two weeks afterward 
 Lieutenant John A. White, of our company, went back over 
 the ground and found Martin with his watch, Testament, and 
 some money on his person. These he took, and sent to his 
 mother in Iowa. He buried Martin and the Confederates side 
 by side. 
 
ANOTHER INCIDENT IN THE CROCKER BRIGADE 
 By John Lett_, Corporal Co. E, iith Iowa Infantry 
 
 While the Crocker Brigade was lying at Bolivar, Miss., 
 guarding the railroad, companies E and K of the nth Iowa 
 Regiment were sent up the railroad seven miles to guard the 
 road there. As we marched up the road about six miles out 
 from camp, a corporal and three men were dropped out and 
 given their orders. At the next post, a half mile farther on, 
 there was a blockhouse. Thirty rods south of this block- 
 house was a crossroad. When we came to the blockhouse I 
 was taken out from the ranks, and given three men for duty. 
 Just before night I received instructions to put a man at the 
 crossing, thirty rods away, and to keep a close watch that 
 nobody went up or down the road, and to be very careful at 
 the crossing, and if we heard anything on the track, to shoot 
 without halting. At dusk I had no alternative but to put two 
 men at the crossing, while two of us stayed at the blockhouse, 
 which meant really putting us on double duty. 
 
 All went well until about ten o'clock, when I was standing 
 near the blockhouse, so that I had a view of the road both 
 ways. I suddenly imagined I heard advancing footsteps on 
 the ties. I got my old musket ready, but before I fired, some- 
 one called my name, gave me his name, with an announce- 
 ment that he had a message for me. I took the message, woke 
 up the guards, and started to deliver it to the next post. The 
 message was that the Rebel cavalry had crossed the river up 
 the railroad about seven miles, and were coming our way. I 
 delivered my message without being shot or shot at, although 
 I expected to be, as we had a German boy on the next post 
 who always shot at everything. This time he happened to be 
 asleep. As I "hoofed" it back up the railroad track, I imag- 
 
 264 
 
ANOTHER INCIDENT IN CROCKER BRIGADE 265 
 
 ined I could hear cavalry, and I finally left the track and took 
 a path alongside of a rail fence. I was pushing along in the 
 dark, not thinking of anything save Rebel cavalry, when all 
 at once a sleeping horse, within eight feet of me, snorted, and 
 jumped. I not only jumped, but fled to the railroad track, 
 some tvx'^o rods away. If I ever touched the ground, I know 
 I could not find the tracks. About the time I got back to the 
 blockhouse I could hear the long roll in camp; that made it 
 seem worse than ever. The long roll had hardly ceased, when 
 I got another message from camp to find out how many, and 
 how fast the enemy were advancing. I started north and met 
 a messenger, giving me the number and the information that 
 they were still advancing. Back I went, on foot and alone, 
 delivered my message and returned, sticking to the railroad 
 track. We settled down to watch, and just before daylight, 
 the same messenger came, delivering me this message, "They 
 are our own cavalry and have gone into camp." This time I 
 carried the message to Colonel Hall, then commanding our 
 brigade. Reaching him and giving the salute, I gave him the 
 message. The brigade was sent to its quarters, and I hunted 
 up a good breakfast among the boys who were in camp. 
 
 After I had returned to the blockhouse, and the boys had 
 lain down to sleep, a handcar came up the track from camp. 
 I stepped to the side of the track, saluted him whom I thought 
 to be Colonel Hall. He asked me very sharply where my men 
 were. I answered equally firmly, "Sir, they are asleep." After 
 guarding two points all night with three men and carrying 
 messages, I did not propose to call them if it was General 
 Grant before me. "All right," said he, "I will fix you," and 
 about two o'clock eight men (instead of three) were sent there 
 to take our places, while we were excused from further duty. 
 
THE FRIENDS OF YESTERDAY 
 
 By Mrs. LaSalle Corbell Pickett, Widow of General 
 Pickett, C. S. A. 
 
 On a recent visit to Washington, D. C, I had the very great pleasure 
 of meeting the widow of the famous Confederate General Pickett, the 
 general whose marvelous charge at Gettysburg will go down into history 
 as one of the most brilliant and courageous in the annals of war. 
 
 "Where ebbed the tide and left the slain 
 Like wreckage from the hurricane — 
 That awful spot which soldiers call 
 'The bloody angle of the wall,' 
 There Pickett stopped, turned back again 
 Alone, with just a thousand men: 
 And not another shot was fired — 
 So much is bravery admired : 
 
 Pickett had charged at Gettysburg." 
 
 I listened several times to this splendid woman — gifted with rare elocu- 
 tionary powers and with a charm of diction seldom heard — relate most 
 thrilling stories of the war and of the Confederate leaders. Those hours 
 possessed for me a fascination I shall always delight to recall. Following 
 her husband through the war, shrinking from no danger he could face, 
 brought into contact with the soldiers of Lee's army and all its generals, 
 she has a fund of historic interest which is almost priceless. The loyal 
 devotion she showed to her "soldier" when living, was no greater than 
 her loving memory of him, as he sleeps under the sod. With all her 
 admiration of the South, her close connections with the Confederacy and 
 her Southern "soldier" husband, she is glad now to live under the old 
 flag and to realize the blessedness of a peaceful, united nation. To her the 
 reader and the Editor are indebted for the following contribution to this 
 volume. — Editor. 
 
 The friends of yesterday are bound to us by ties that can 
 never be broken. The first friendship which I consciously 
 
 266 
 
THE FRIENDS OF YESTERDAY 267 
 
 formed is back at the very beginning of my childhood, and 
 resuhed in my marriage. Among those who came to my wed- 
 ding reception, Jefferson Davis and his cabinet were ahnost 
 the only men who wore civilian's clothes. For even then the 
 South was robbing the cradle and the grave to make of every 
 man a soldier. The food supply, too, had been reduced to 
 narrow limits, and among my bridal gifts the little boxes of 
 sugar, coffee and salt vied in value with those of jewels. Salt 
 was reclaimed from the earth under the smokehouses. Dried 
 sweet potatoes were substituted for coffee, but friends and 
 relatives vied with each other in preparing our wedding supper, 
 and the result was such as had not been seen in the Confed- 
 eracy for many a day. I had previously met Mr. Davis, and 
 had formed my mental picture of him. He was tall and 
 extremely thin, and his dignity and grace were inexpressible. 
 He was a type of the old South, cultured, refined, and a bril- 
 liant conversationalist. Mrs. Davis, handsome and gracious, 
 as always, accompanied her husband. Mr. Davis' voice, like 
 himself, was unique, possessing a charm difficult to put in 
 words. 
 
 Mr. Davis loved children. The delegation who escorted 
 him to the Capital of the Confederacy to take the presidential 
 oath, found him mending a toy for a lame child, whom he 
 held on his knee. He finished his work and said, "Here is 
 your toy, my child, as good as new." He then arose, received 
 the delegation, saying. ''This is my last day of freedom. To- 
 morrow I belong to the people." 
 
 After the war a Union soldier came to Richmond to live. 
 His little children had some toy soldiers with which they and 
 my little boys would fight great battles, the Federals and 
 Confederates by courtesy being permitted to win alternately. 
 Mr. Davis came in one day when the star of victory shone on 
 the Southern side. "Hurrah, boys," he said, "Fm glad I came 
 in to-day. I like to see the Confederates win." "Wait," said 
 one of the boys, "and see the Federals win." Mr. Davis patted 
 the child on the head and said, "Ah, my little man, your father 
 and I have seen the Federals win." 
 
 He had four children of his own; Little Joe was his favorite, 
 a grave, earnest boy who felt the responsibility of his posi- 
 tion as a balance wheel for the frivolities of the others. One 
 
268 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES • 
 
 evening when the President was holding a cabinet meeting in 
 the Hbrary and Mrs. Davis was receiving in the drawing room, 
 the children were behaving in a way quite beyond the control 
 of the nurse, and Little Joe did what many a hero had done 
 before, knelt down and prayed : "Good Lord, do take hold 
 and help me manage these children, for their father has got 
 the Confederacy on his hands and he doesn't know a thing 
 about it, and their mother has got society, and if you don't help 
 me I don't know what will become of them." 
 
 Four days after this Mr. Davis was called from church to 
 receive the sad tidings that Little Joe had fallen from the 
 veranda of the presidential mansion and been killed. 
 
 At the grave Mrs. Davis was weeping bitterly, but Mr. 
 Davis was the personification of grief and agony without 
 one outward sign, not even the quivering of a muscle or the 
 shedding of a tear. All around him mourners were sobbing. 
 There were thousands of little children all dressed in white 
 bearing flowers, and one little girl with her apron full of 
 white violets went directly to the broken-hearted man stand- 
 ing so erect by the grave, and said, "Last week, Mr. Davis, 
 Little Joe and I watched these violets bloom, and we would 
 not pick one of them for ourselves, though we wanted to, so 
 vv'e could bring them all to you." 
 
 Mr. Davis lifted Little Joe's little playmate in his arms and 
 held her over the grave and whispered to her. She opened 
 her apron and let the violets fall there. As he put her down 
 and stepped back, Mr. Davis drew his hands across his eyes. 
 A little child had found the way to the fountain of tears. 
 
 The first time I saw "Stonewall" Jackson was when my 
 soldier lay wounded in Richmond after the battle of Gaines 
 Mills. While they were discussing the battle, mint juleps 
 were brought in. Jackson almost rudely declined, saying, "I 
 never touch strong drink. I like it too well to fool with it, 
 and no man's strength is enough to touch liquor with im- 
 punity." " 'Scuse me, Marse Jackson," said the waitress, 
 "but dese here drams ain't got no impunity in 'em. No, suh, 
 dem's meked out'n we alls bcry hes' old peach and apple- 
 jack, dey is, suh." "Do you own all these niggers, Pickett?" 
 said Jackson. "No," said my soldier, "I don't own any 
 
THE FRIENDS OF YESTERDAY 269 
 
 slaves, General, but there are two who own me and they 
 won't let me have my freedom." "That's just my case," said 
 Jackson, "I have an old man and woman that I can neither 
 give away nor lose." 
 
 The career of Jackson was the greatest marvel of the war. 
 His methods are best indicated by his famous request of the 
 War Department, "Send me 20,000 men and no orders." I 
 heard him say he was afraid of nothing but his own men, and 
 that was prophetic, for, strange to say, he was afterward 
 killed by one of his own men. Riding on his chestnut sorrel, his 
 tall, powerful form bent forward, his long, solemn face, high 
 cheek bones half lost in his heavy reddish-brown beard, his 
 gray eyes cast down, if he came unexpectedly upon his men 
 he would straighten up, throw his shoulders back, doff the 
 old felt hat that concealed his receding forehead, put spurs 
 to his horse and dash off at full speed. Any expression of 
 devotion seemed to strike him with dread. 
 
 In Martinsburg, when beset by admirers demanding 
 photographs, and locks of hair, etc., he told the most per- 
 sistent that she had a great deal more hair than he had, and 
 finally retreated in confusion, saying, "Really, this is the first 
 time I have been surrounded by the enemy." 
 
 After the battle of Manassas it was rumored in church that 
 the pastor had received a letter from Jackson, and all crowded 
 about him in great excitement to hear the news of the battle. 
 The pastor opened the letter and read (it was dated the day 
 after the battle) : 
 
 "In my tent last night after a rather fatiguing day's service, I suddenly 
 remembered that I failed to send my contribution for our colored Sabbath 
 School. Enclosed find my check for that object. 
 
 "Faithfully yours, 
 
 "T. J. Jackson." 
 
 Jackson could keep his own counsel as well as a line of 
 battle. He told me that once when General Pendleton asked 
 him his plans, he had asked. "Well, General, can you keep a 
 secret?" "Ah," said Pendleton, "trust me." "So can I," 
 replied Jackson. 
 
270 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 He appreciated soldierly qualities in an enemy as highly as 
 in a friend. In the battle of Antietam, Jackson saw one of his 
 men aiming at a Federal soldier. He cried, "Stop, lower that 
 gun ! T have been watching that boy, and he is too brave to be 
 killed." Thus did Stonewall Jackson save the life of William 
 McKinley, to be twice President of the United States. 
 
 It was while on this station, too, that I first saw General 
 Grant. My soldier and I were riding along looking at the 
 Federal gunboats and monitors not more than 600 yards 
 away. Suddenly a puff of smoke darted up. "Look," I cried, 
 "isn't that beautiful?" "Yes, dangerously beautiful; it is 
 from a shell. Come, whip up your horse and let me get you 
 out of this." Just then Captain Smith came across the field, 
 and to my soldier's inquiries as to the cause of the firing re- 
 plied, "They are testing some guns over there for the benefit 
 of visitors. I hear that Mrs. Grant and some friends are 
 down from Washington. Mrs. Grant is standing between 
 those two stout gentlemen," said he, handing us his field 
 glasses, "The one to the left with the cigar in his mouth is 
 Grant, and the one to the right is Rufus Ingalls, the quarter- 
 master general, and they say he is one of the brainiest men in 
 the army. Excuse me, General, but would it not be better 
 for you to take Mrs. Pickett away?" "Unfortunately, Cap- 
 tain, Mrs. Pickett outranks me, and she will not go." "If 
 you will let me get down and try our own guns too, I will 
 go," said I. "No, not for the world," replied my soldier. 
 "In the first place we can't afford to waste a single shot; 
 again, they are not firing at us." 
 
 As cadets at West Point, Ulysses S. Grant and George E. 
 Pickett first met, though not as classmates. Grant belonged 
 to the class a year ahead of Cadet Pickett. They served to- 
 gether in the Mexican War, and formed a friendship that 
 was not broken by the later and more bitter conflict, in which 
 they fought on opposite sides. A softening amenity of that 
 tragic period was the loyal affection of the men who had 
 served together in the old army and had stood side by side 
 on many a battlefield under the Star-Spangled Banner. Some- 
 times when the guns were silent, and the winds of heaven had 
 scattered the smoke of the conflict, some token of loving re- 
 
THE FRIENDS OF YESTERDAY 271 
 
 membrance would cross the lines, like a fragrant blossom 
 nodding graciously over the sternest and highest of stone 
 walls. 
 
 When General Pickett was riding into Richmond to wel- 
 come his first baby boy, the loving and loyal men of his divi- 
 sion lighted bonfires all along the line in honor of the event. 
 This excited anxious curiosity in the army across the river, 
 for there had been no battle, and the only plausible explana- 
 tion of the bonfires was foreign acknowledgment of the Con- 
 federacy. The scouts reported the cause of the celebration to 
 General Grant; he turned to his quartermaster general, 
 Ingalls, and said, "Rufus, haven't we some kindling wood 
 on our side?" Ingalls nodded. "Yes? Then why can't we 
 strike a light for the young Pickett?" said Grant. So the 
 bonfires of welcome burned along the Federal lines. 
 
 The next day a letter marked "Unofficial" mysteriously 
 came through the lines. It read: "J^^y i^, 1864. To George 
 E. Pickett. We are sending congratulations to you, the 
 young mother, and the young recruit," and was signed, — 
 "Grant, Ingalls, Suckley," all three being my soldier's com- 
 rades in the old army, and his friends through all his re- 
 maining years. 
 
 After the war, when my soldier was in Canada, he re- 
 ceived a letter from Grant, saying: "I am sorry, Pickett, that 
 your ill-advised advisers in Washington should have forced 
 upon you the necessity of leaving your country. It was not 
 at all necessary, for had it required another war, the cartel 
 between Lee and myself would have been carried out, and 
 you should have known it." Later, when Grant was Presi- 
 dent, we received an invitation to visit him. The Southern 
 train, which was usually late, was for once on time, and we 
 came out of the station just as the President's carriage was 
 driving up. "Halloa, Pickett," Grant exclaimed, "up to your 
 old tricks! Coming in ahead of the train." Mrs. Grant was 
 a beatitiful hostess, and all went well except that I was afraid 
 my baby would make a noise and disturb them. Wlien my 
 soldier told this to the President, he put his hat on the boy's 
 head and his stick between his legs and said, "There, ride 
 your horse, little man, and tell them you will make as much 
 
272 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 noise as you please." It is needless to say that this gracious 
 act was an open sesame to my mother heart. 
 
 The memory of Grant nearest my heart was as I saw him 
 standing face to face with my soldier in the President's office, 
 just before the close of our visit. The President, always true 
 to his friends, was urging upon my soldier, whom the war 
 had left poor, the marshalship of the State of Virginia. 
 Knowing the demands upon the President, my soldier refused, 
 saying, "You cannot afford to do this thing. Grant," 'T can 
 afiford to do anything I please," said Grant, emphasizing the 
 assertion with some pretty strong w^ords. I shall never forget 
 the look that came into my soldier's eyes and Grant's look 
 in return, as they silently shook hands, walked off in different 
 directions, and looked out of separate windows; and I stole 
 away. 
 
 The bitterness of the surrendered army, unconquered in 
 soul though exhausted by starvation and crushed by over- 
 whelming defeat, was softened by the tender chivalry of the 
 rugged soldier and great-hearted man whom destiny had led 
 to the dominant place in that impressive scene. 
 
 "But," said General Grant, "the story that Lee offered me 
 his sword and I refused it is pure fiction. The thought of 
 side arms never once entered my mind until I was writing out 
 the terms of surrender, when, providentially chancing to 
 glance up, I saw General Lee looking down at the magnificent 
 sword given him by the State of Virginia. It flashed upon 
 me what an added heart-break it would be to the great soldier 
 to part from a weapon so endeared to him by sacred memories, 
 and I immediately inserted the clause which reserved to the 
 Confederate officers the right to retain their side arms." 
 
 At Appomattox there was silence in the Federal camp. 
 Not a drum beat, not a shout broke the stillness that fell over 
 the Army of the Potomac. A stranger looking on might 
 have wondered which army was keeping the sullen silence of 
 defeat. After long and weary years, peace had come. The 
 roar of guns had died away among the hills. The sweep of 
 the sword no longer flashed lightning across the vales. But 
 there was not a murmur of joy nor a note of triumph. Grant 
 had issued an order that there should be no cheering. The 
 
THE FRIENDS OF YESTERDAY 273 
 
 victorious army was encamped on the ground that witnessed 
 the triumph of four years of agonizing effort, and yet not a 
 sound broke the silence save the tread of martial feet and 
 the tone of low-spoken command. In solemn stillness the 
 great army kept watch beside the grave of a dead nation and 
 a mourning people's hopes. 
 
THE ENLISTMENT— THE FAREWELL— THE 
 SCOUT— THE FIGHT 
 
 By Gustave B, Lamme, Co. D, 30 Ohio Volunteer 
 
 Infantry 
 
 On the morning of April 17, 1861, I was assisting my 
 father with his farm work, when a yoimg friend of mine 
 came across the fields to where we were at work, and told us 
 that the President had called for volunteers. He said he and 
 other friends were on their way to the city to enlist, and asked 
 if I would go with them. 
 
 After a short consultation with my father, I consented to 
 go with them. Going to the house I took leave of my 
 mother, and I remember how I looked back as far as I could 
 see, as I walked toward the city, and there was the old home 
 and my dear mother standing just where I had kissed her 
 good-by; there she stood looking as long as possible, at her 
 boy, going to the war. 
 
 Arriving in Springfield, we were not long in locating a 
 recruiting officer, and we were soon enrolled as volunteers 
 in Uncle Sam's service. When the company had recruited 
 the requisite number we were taken to Columbus. Here we 
 went into camp at Goodale Park. The camp was afterward 
 named Camp Jackson, and here the regiment was organized. 
 
 Our first active service was in West Virginia, first at 
 Grafton, then Clarksburg, and then we went into camp at 
 Buckhannon. General McClellan organized a command to 
 operate against the Rebel force at Rich Mountain, and it was 
 while camping at this place that the expedition I now tell 
 about was sent out. It was on or about July 8, 1861, that 
 the orderly came through the quarters calling for volunteers 
 for a scouting party along the enemy's front. I^ike all other 
 
 274 
 
THE ENLISTMENT— THE FAREWELL, ETC. 275 
 
 boys of nineteen years of age, I was tired of camp life and 
 its necessary restraint, so I quickly responded to the call, as 
 did four others. Five was the number required from each 
 company. Up to this time I felt that there was not likely to 
 be any fighting, and I thought, here was my opportunity for 
 a fight* 
 
 I was afraid that if I did not go on this expedition I 
 should never have another opportunity to use that old Har- 
 per's Ferry musket, with made-over lock, that Uncle Sam 
 had presented to me. We fell in and were marched to the 
 parade ground, where we joined the details from the other 
 companies — fifty in all. We were commanded by Captain 
 O. A. Lawson of Co. A (afterward colonel of the regiment). 
 Leaving camp, we marched east on the Beverly Road. This 
 was directly over the summit of Rich Mountain. A few miles 
 west of the mountain is a small deep stream known as The 
 Middle Fork. At this time the stream was spanned by a 
 covered bridge, and here the Confederates had placed out- 
 post pickets. As it was late when we started from camp, we 
 had not gone far when we were overtaken by darkness. We 
 moved a short distance from the road, and prepared to make 
 ourselves as comfortable as possible. Our guide, who had 
 been visiting with some friends, returned and told us that 
 Confederate soldiers were at his friend's house. The captain 
 ordered us into line, and we moved up a path on the mountain 
 side. I cannot conceive of a darker night. I could not see 
 the man in front of me. After marching a short distance we 
 came to a clearing in the wood. There we were deployed 
 and we closed in around the house. But the birds had flown, 
 though there was plenty of evidence that they had been 
 there. The house was in great confusion; ashes and coals 
 
 * How vividly this same thought comes to every young soldier of that 
 day, on both sides too, the same one that filled his own heart in the early 
 part of the war. The idea that maybe there would be no fighting, and that 
 after all we would never see a real battle. God help us ! how many we 
 saw ! And then how we young soldiers thought that if our regiment got 
 into the fight, the war would soon end. Even now, after more than half a 
 century, some who were then boys talk as if it really was their regiment 
 that "put down the rebellion." — Editor. 
 
2/6 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 were scattered over the floor. The mother and children, who 
 had been hiding, were brought in. We posted pickets and 
 remained in the house till morning, when we marched back 
 to the road. The captain and guide held a consultation, and 
 as we were not far from the bridge, they decided to divide 
 the little company, a part of us to move close to the bridge 
 and await developments, while the rest should march down 
 the stream, cross over, and surprise the post from the rear. 
 Leaving about twenty men commanded by Sergeant Benedict 
 of Co. I, we marched down a path until we came to a ford, 
 crossed over, took another path, and proceeded up the stream. 
 We had not gone far when from sounds of merriment and 
 the splashing of water, we knew we were very near the enemy. 
 Captain Lawson raised his sword and motioned to us to lie 
 down. Then he called for a couple of men to press cautiously 
 through the brush, and learn the number of the enemy, and 
 report. The men scarcely had time to get through the 
 brush, when to our amazement, coming around a turn in the 
 path, a file of Confederate soldiers appeared. No sooner did 
 they discover us than they took to the brush, more than 
 "double quick." The captain ordered us forward, and as 
 fast as we could run we made for the bridge. We had not 
 gone far when we came out of the woods into an open 
 meadow. Here we were greeted with a sharp volley of 
 musketry. We began firing, but there were only a few of the 
 enemy to be seen. They were concealed in the bridge with 
 loopholes to fire through. Our men were falling fast around 
 us and the captain ordered us to fall back out of range of 
 the enemy's guns. Then we took an inventory of our 
 casualties. One killed and six wounded. Now I want to say 
 that while standing under fire, looking down into the face of 
 that dying boy, and seeing the blood running down the face 
 of young Black, and hearing Joe High appealing for help (he 
 was shot through the ankle), and Darling of Co., H, who 
 had an arm shattered, it was the most terrible shock I ever 
 felt, although I afterward witnessed terrible scenes on the 
 battlefields and among the wounded in the rear, and was 
 myself one of the number. Yet, with all this I never after- 
 ward felt the awful terror of that day at Middle Fork Bridge. 
 The men we left on the other side of the bridge did nothing, 
 
THE ENLISTMENT— THE FAREWELL, ETC. 277 
 
 and said they never heard any firing at all. We passed down 
 the stream to the ford, and returned to Buckhannon. After 
 that I never thought the Confederates would not fight, neither 
 was I anxious to experiment on them with that old Harper's 
 Ferry musket. 
 
 General McClellan, in his book, says that this expedition 
 was never authorized. 
 
THE "BLOODY FIFTH" CAVALRY 
 
 By p. J. White, 5TH Virginia Cavalry, C. S. A, 
 
 Amtd the ruin and destruction that followed the capture 
 of their home and the city of their birth, Virgil in his im- 
 mortal epic tells us of an interview between "the shade of 
 the mighty Hector" and the future founder of the Roman 
 line, in which the immortal hero uses these words : 
 
 "Think not of home or country's claims. 
 Country and homes, alas, are names ; 
 Could Troy be saved by hands of men. 
 This hand had saved her then, e'en then ; 
 The gods of her domestic shrines 
 That country to your care consigns; 
 Receive them now to share your fate, 
 Provide them mansions strong and great." 
 
 With a slight paraphrase, this language might have been 
 used by that greatest of all leaders, who, as brave as Ulysses 
 and as faithful as Achates, was Caesar without his ambition, 
 Napoleon without his cruelty and Washington without his 
 reward. Returning from fateful Appomattox and beholding 
 the blackened walls and desolated homes of our modern Troy, 
 he was still the wise leader and counsellor in restoring the 
 fallen fortunes of our common country. 
 
 Of the men who followed his lead, shared his fortunes, and 
 suffered his defeat, history has taken and will continue to 
 take due account in the years to come. 
 
 The 5th Virginia Cavalry was first organized at Green's 
 Farm, near Richmond, in May 1862. Two of the companies, 
 however, belonged to a military organization before the war, 
 and were in the battle of Bethel. 
 
 The regiment moved down on the Nine Mile Road before 
 the battle of Seven Pines. T. L. Rosser. a graduate of West 
 Point, was made its colonel. The regiment was fully officered, 
 but only one of them all reached Appomattox, and he only 
 
 278 
 
THE "BLOODY FIFTH" CAVALRY 279 
 
 after being several times wounded and promoted to another 
 command. All of the others save three were killed, and those 
 three left the regiment, to which fact they probably owe their 
 lives, though wounded. 
 
 The regiment, numbering probably 700 men, was placed 
 on the Confederate left, near the York River Railroad. Dur- 
 ing the Seven Days' battles around Richmond we did scout- 
 ing and picket duty, and saw much hard service, among 
 other things, acting as advance guard for General Stonewall 
 Jackson in his advance to attack McClellan's right at Gaines's 
 Mills, and so on to Malvern Hill. We marched with the army 
 to the Second Manassas, at Vvhich battle we were placed on 
 the right and lost several men. Thence to Mar3dand, and in 
 the several cavalry fights preceding Sharpsburg we took part. 
 
 In this battle the regiment was on the Confederate left, and, 
 with others, supported a battery of artillery, losing several 
 men. On the retirement of General Lee's army on the 
 second night after the battle, the regiment was placed in the 
 position occupied by the infantry, and in so doing, owing to 
 the darkness, rode over many dead and wounded men who 
 had not been removed from the field of battle. 
 
 When with the morning dawn the Yankees saw the trick 
 played upon them, they advanced in heavy columns and 
 forced the cavalry back, driving them through the village of 
 Sharpsburg and down to the Potomac River, at which the 
 anny was crossing. Here they were with much difficulty 
 held in check until the river had been crossed over. 
 
 By easy stages the army marched to Winchester, whence, 
 after resting, it marched to Fredericksburg to oppose General 
 Burnside, the new commander of the Federal Army. Early 
 on the morning of March 17, 1862, the regiment, with the 
 balance of Fitz Lee's men, was hurried to Kelley's Ford, on 
 the Rappahannock River, to drive back a large force of 
 Yankee cavalry who were crossing there. Here, after a very 
 savage fisht, the enemy were driven back across the river 
 again, but in so doing the regiment lost several men killed, 
 among them Lieutenant Colonel Puller. Here, too. Major 
 Pelham, of the Stuart Horse Artillery, was killed while lead- 
 ing a cavalry charge. 
 
 At the battle of Chancellorsville, which occurred soon 
 
28o THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 after, the 5th Regiment accompanied General Jackson on his 
 famous flank movement against General Hooker's right and 
 was very near General Jackson when he was wounded, and 
 took an active part in that fight and those that followed. 
 
 From Chancellorsville the regiment accompanied the army 
 to Pennsylvania. At Aldie, in Loudoun County, Va., the 5th 
 had a very disastrous fight, losing many men. 
 
 Advancing with General Lee's army into the Wilderness 
 on May 5, 1864, the regiment came first into contact with the 
 Yankees on the plank road on our right, near Todd's Tavern, 
 and while General Lee awaited the arrival of General Long- 
 street's men before bringing on a general engagement, to 
 General Stuart was given the task of holding the heavy force 
 of General Sheridan at bay. On the morning of May 6th, 
 Longstreet having just arrived when he was sorely needed, 
 the battle was joined, and from plank road to pike, and pike 
 to plank road, the contending legions wrestled in a fierce death 
 grapple. Longstreet, in the midst of a successful flank move- 
 ment, was shot down, thus checking his men. 
 
 Gordon on the pike had made a successful flank movement, 
 capturing many prisoners, until darkness put an end to the 
 conflict. The next day neither side seemed to care to renew 
 the fight. 
 
 The cavalry were interposed on the Brock road to check 
 the Yankee advance toward Spottsylvania Court House. 
 This they successfully did, though opposed by heavy masses 
 of infantry and Sheridan's cavalry, fighting which, our losses 
 were severe. 
 
 On Mav 9th Sheridan's men having passed our flank on 
 their raid toward Richmond, the cavalry under General 
 Stuart started in pursuit, and had many combats with his rear 
 guard, until overtaken near Yellow Tavern, about eight miles 
 from Richmond, on May nth, w'here may be said to have 
 occurred the severest and probably the most disastrous fight, 
 so far as our regiment was concerned, that took place during 
 the war. 
 
 Sheridan, finding that he would be unable to enter Rich- 
 mond on account of several brigades of infantry guarding 
 the city, turned back upon our cavalry, and advanced upon 
 them in overwhelming force. 
 
THE "BLOODY FIFTH" CAVALRY 281 
 
 In the hasty arrangement of our Hnes to meet them, the 
 5th Regiment occupied the left, and after changing positions 
 once or twice, was finally somewhat massed in a cut in the 
 road about a mile or so beyond Yellow Tavern, with orders 
 to hold the same at all hazards against the enemy advancing 
 upon them from the direction of Richmond in overwhelming 
 force. Here were killed Colonel Pate, Captains Wilson, 
 Fox and Clay, and I know not how many others. General 
 Stuart, when he saw from a long distance the gallant defense 
 that the regiment was making, sent Colonel Garnett, of his 
 staff, to Colonel Pate and renewed his request to hold the 
 position, not more than one or two minutes before he was 
 killed, so I have been told by Colonel Garnett himself. When 
 Colonel Pate fell, shot through the head. General Stuart, 
 seeing his fall, said to those about him, "Pate has died the 
 death of a hero." 
 
 Were they not all heroes — facing that fiery ordeal, whether 
 they went down to a cruel death in sight of the city they had 
 so gallantly defended, or w^hether they escaped to tell the 
 story? Unable to hold the position, and with so many 
 officers killed or wounded, the balance of the regiment re- 
 treated in disorder across a wide field in the rear of their 
 position. 
 
 General Stuart's left, being thus turned, and pressed 
 heavily in front also, fell back a short distance, when he was 
 again charged upon by a mounted force of Yankees, who, 
 successful for a while, were finally driven back. But in this 
 charge General Stuart was mortally wounded, and died the 
 next day. May 12, 1864. Our regiment had now lost about 
 half our original number. 
 
 Sheridan moved eastward with his command, and after 
 fighting at Meadow Bridges, he crossed the Chickahominy 
 River lower down at Bottom's Bridge and marched to 
 Haxall's Landing, on the James River, our command follow- 
 ing him some ten or twelve miles east of Richmond on the 
 Darbytown road. Our regiment was engaged in the fight at 
 Cold Harbor and again met with heavy loss. At Trevilian 
 Station, on June nth and 12th, after severe fighting and 
 heavy losses on both sides, Sheridan w^as driven back or re- 
 treated across the North Anna River at Carpenter's Ford, 
 
282 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 and fell back to the White House, marching from there to 
 cross the James River on the pontoon bridge at Bermuda 
 Hundred. Sending a portion of his force under Gregg to 
 St. Mary's Church, in Charles City County, to protect his 
 trains during the crossing of the river, they met there General 
 Fitz Lee and General Hampton, and after a stubborn fight, 
 retreated in confusion, and were pursued nearly to Charles 
 City Court House. 
 
 Sheridan's men disappeared from our front, and having 
 crossed the James River, our command crossed also at 
 Drewry's Bluff, and marched through Petersburg to Reams's 
 Station, and there met and utterly defeated a large force of 
 Yankee cavalry under Wilson, who, having been on a raid 
 against the railroads on the south side, were returning with 
 a great many negroes, jnen, women, and children, whom they 
 were carrying off, together with much stolen loot, most of 
 which was retaken, and nearly one thousand negroes, many 
 with babies in their arms. 
 
 I was told by a member of my company, one of their 
 guards, though I did not see it myself, that some of the 
 Yankee officers, when marched as prisoners to Petersburg 
 with the negro women, were made to carry their babies in 
 their arms as a punishment for stealing "niggers." 
 
 To those who had been campaigning in the swamps of the 
 Chickahominy and Tames rivers, and along the fearfully 
 dusty roads about Richmond, Petersburg, and elsewhere, the 
 translation from Nassau bacon and unbolted corn meal for 
 men, pine tags and bullrushes for horses, and muddy swamp 
 water for both, was most agreeable. Such was our transfer. 
 
 After a long march to Winchester to join Early, and an 
 advance to the vicinity of Harper's Ferry and a return, during 
 which occurred some sharp cavalry fighting, we came to the 
 battle of Winchester, September 19, 1864. Placed on the 
 Martinsburg road, on the Confederate left, the regiment was 
 severely engaged all day. and lost many men. It was a 
 terrible fight, and my company lost heavily. 
 
 As the sun was slowly approaching the horizon the last 
 Confederate armv ever in Winchester passed out, never to 
 return. Retreating in good order before overwhelming odds 
 of four to one, our division marched up the Page Valley. At 
 
THE "BLOODY FIFTH" CAVALRY 283 
 
 Luray, on September 24th, five days after the battle of Win- 
 chester, our Httle brigade was turned about and marched 
 back several miles to meet the enemy, who were pushing on 
 behind. In this combat our regiment suffered severely, losing 
 many men, one of my own company being killed and another 
 left for dead behind a pile of rails we had made. Many 
 were taken prisoners, one escaping by taking refuge up a 
 chimney. Our adjutant was also killed, and but few were 
 left. 
 
 At Bridgewater we received some reinforcements and ad- 
 vanced again, and Sheridan began to retreat, burning mills, 
 barns, grain, and in many instances dwelling houses, creating 
 a scene of desolation and distress which I hope never to see 
 again. 
 
 Passing on, we had many combats with the rear guard, and 
 saw many houses in flames, and homeless women and children 
 in tears. Stopping on the banks of Linnville Creek to rest 
 for a few minutes, we saw White's battalion of Rosser's 
 brigade engaged in the pleasant diversion of shooting pris- 
 oners caught in the act of burning houses. In a running 
 fight with Custer's rear guard we pressed them so closely 
 that they dropped many chickens which some of them had 
 stolen from the farmers along the road. 
 
 Still pursuing them the next day, we drove them across 
 Tom's Creek, beyond their infantry supports on another road. 
 Sleeping on the field that night, the next day they turned on 
 us in overwhelming odds and drove us in confusion from the 
 field with severe loss. 
 
 About ten days after this we found ourselves at Strasburg 
 on picket, and then advancing in front of Gordon in his 
 memorable night attack at Cedar Creek, October 19, 1864, 
 where we drove the enemy from their camp down to and 
 below Middletown, capturing many prisoners, and much 
 camp equipage, including General Sheridan's servant and 
 milch cows; also General Emory's horses; but owing to our 
 failure to push the pursuit, when it ceased the Yankees rallied, 
 and coming against us with great odds, we were driven from 
 the field. 
 
 Retiring from the field of battle, we marched to New 
 Market, some thirty miles distant, where we rested and re- 
 
284 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 cruited for some days, and on November loth we returned 
 to face Sheridan at New Town, six miles below the battle- 
 field at Cedar Creek, and to offer him battle again, which was 
 not accepted. In a cavalry charge in the streets of this town 
 one of our men was killed, if not more, and some scores or 
 more wounded or captured of the other regiments of cavalry. 
 The Yankees declining a general engagement, the next day 
 we returned to our camp near New Market. This last men- 
 tioned movement of the army of the Shenandoah may be said 
 to have terminated the Valley campaign, so far as the infantry 
 was concerned, it now being the middle of November and 
 extremely cold. 
 
 For us, however, it was not so. In the language of 
 General Payne, our brigadier, in a letter to me, he said : "The 
 cavalry was always under fire. Their life was a battle and 
 a march never ending. I have a memorandum showing that 
 from the battle of Winchester, Fitz Lee's division was for 
 twenty-seven consecutive days engaged with the Yankees, and 
 at ez.'cry roll-call there zcere soiiie missing. When we were 
 lucky enough to capture some sort of spirits, we would sing: 
 
 "Stand to your glass, steady, 
 'Tis all we've left to prize; 
 Here's to the dead already, 
 
 Hurrah for the next man who dies !" 
 
 "We sang to brighten our hearts before bowing and walk- 
 ing be3'^ond the stars." 
 
 Brave, thrice-wounded old hero ! May the clods rest 
 lightly and the grass be ever green upon your grave ! What 
 member of the sth Cavalry can ever forget the severe winter 
 of 1864! 
 
 Passing over an advance of Yankee cavalry to Mount 
 Jackson, which was driven back. General Rosser, with his own 
 and our brigade, crossed over the mountains into Hardy 
 County, and, aided by the blue overcoats taken from the 
 enemy, rode into the post of New Creek and captured 800 
 prisoners, many horses, four pieces of artillery and large 
 quantities of supplies, and safely brought them off. 
 
 The Yankee cavalry advancing under Custer again, our 
 two little brigades left camp and rode through snow and 
 
THE "BLOODY FIFTH" CAVALRY 285 
 
 biting cold to meet them, which was done at Lacy Springs, 
 after a march of forty miles rudely breaking in upon their 
 slumbers in the hours of early dawn and starting them upon 
 their hasty retreat without so much as a hasty P. P. C. 
 
 Passing by a trip to Beverly and the capture of 500 
 prisoners, a hasty summons started us on a march through 
 drifting snows across the Blue Ridge to meet a force of 
 raiders on Gordonsville. These were driven off before we 
 arrived. 
 
 Near Charlottesville we were turned back to the Valley. 
 Stopping near Waynesboro long enough to eat a Christmas 
 dinner in the woods, we marched again through deeper snow 
 to Lexington and camped some miles out, spending the 
 month of January in nightly raids among the bleak moun- 
 tains, arresting deserters from Lee's army. On February 
 1st we started on a march of 200 miles to join General Lee 
 at Richmond, who was sadly in need of troops. Arriving 
 at Richmond, we camped near New Bridge Church. Here 
 our lonely vigils were kept amid hooting owls, whose per- 
 formances were surprising. Sagacious birds ! how wise to 
 choose such labyrinthine shades, amid gnomes and sprites 
 and disembodied ghosts, to run the gamut of your horrid 
 screech! For blood-curling, hair-raising proclivities, com- 
 mend me to the midnight orgies of a Chickahominy owl in 
 wintry weather. 
 
 After another short scout we were ordered to march in 
 haste to General Lee's right beyond Petersburg. Placed 
 on the left of the infantry at Five Forks, the regiment 
 suffered severely, and had many men captured in this dis- 
 astrous battle, from which began the sad retreat to Appo- 
 mattox, 
 
 At the High Bridge we lost our second colonel, killed on 
 the field of battle, the gallant R. B. Boston, a soldier without 
 fear and without reproach. The end was now evidently near 
 at hand, yet the faithful few held on, and finally reaching 
 Appomattox, the remnant of the Army of Northern Virginia, 
 surrounded by countless foes, unable to pierce the living 
 walls of blue confronting them, on April 9, 1865, ceased to 
 exist, surrendering to overwhelming numbers and resources. 
 
 Little remains to be said. Wrenching their battle-marked 
 
286 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 flag from its staff, the survivors of the 5th Virginia Cavalry 
 and those of that grand army whose blood had been mingled 
 with their own on many fields, with heavy hearts turned their 
 faces toward their desolated homes, — to bind up bleeding 
 wounds, to hush the orphan's wail, the widow's moan, and 
 to resume again the peaceful vocations of life. 
 
 So ends this "strange, eventful story," in briefest outline 
 told. A theme worthy the pen of a Gibbon or the brush of 
 a Raphael ; an o'er true tale, beside which pales into in- 
 significance the legend of the Trojan Horse or the fable of 
 the Golden Fleece; an immortal epic attuned to the harp of 
 a Homer or to the glowing numbers of the Mantuan Bard. 
 
 Sons of the South, they battled fiercely and long for the 
 land of their birth. They marched through heat and cold, 
 through storm and shine, to prison, wounds and death, till 
 scarcely a corporal's guard was left. They sleep on a hun- 
 dred fields of mortal strife — in the bosom of Mother Earth, 
 from the summit of the everlasting hills to the spreading 
 sands of ocean; some amid scenes they loved so well, some in 
 unknown graves, some in far-away prisons found a yawning 
 sepulcher, and there sleep the sleep that knows no waking; 
 some in graves kept green by loving women's hands and 
 watered by their tears. They did not achieve success. They 
 did more ; they deserved it. Unpensioned heroes all, Vir- 
 ginia owes you a debt of gratitude she can ne'er repay. 
 
 Last surviving remnant of an immortal band, they ask but 
 an honorable grave in the land of their choice and a niche 
 in the halls of memory, 
 
 "But whetlier on the mountain top or on the flowery plain, 
 The valiant keep their last long sleep, how grandly sleep the slain, 
 Above their graves the sweet winds sing a tender lullabj^ 
 And o'er the soul throws sweet control that hushes every sigh. 
 
 "The murmuring waters woo to sleep and still each troubled breast, 
 And e'en the sun shines brighter on the couch whereon they rest, 
 Fame sets her sentries at their graves and there with noiseless tread 
 Bright Glory's guard keeps watch and ward above Virginia's dead." 
 
SIEGE OF KNOXVILLE, TENN., AND GENERAL 
 AVERILL'S RAID. 
 
 By Jacob G. Matlick, Private, Co. B, 5TH West Virginia 
 
 Cavalry 
 
 During the time, November 17th to December 4, 1863, the 
 Army of Ohio, commanded by Major General Ambrose 
 Bumside, was besieged at Knoxville, the Secretary of War 
 ordered General Averill to take his command, and destroy the 
 Virginia and Tennessee Railroad in Southwestern Virginia, 
 in order to cut off the supplies for the besieging Confederates, 
 if it cost the government the whole command. 
 
 General Averill's command consisted of the 2d, 3d and 8th 
 West Virginia Mounted Infantry, the 14th Pennsylvania 
 Cavalry, Captain Ewing's Battery G, ist West Virginia 
 Artillery, and Major Gibson's Battalion of ist West Virginia 
 Cavalry, and was under the command of Major General B. 
 F. Kelly, commanding the Mountain Department of West 
 Virginia. General Averill's forces were designated as the 
 Fourth Separate Brigade. The command had left Beverly, 
 Randolph County, W. Va., on November ist to drive from 
 West Virginia a force of Confederates commanded by Colonel 
 W. L. Jackson, which was raiding Greenbrier County. The 
 command of General Averill struck Colonel Jackson's forces 
 at Droop Mountain on the morning of the 6th, and after a 
 bold and spirited attack, the Confederate forces fled in haste 
 with General Averill's troopers in hot pursuit. Averill's 
 command, in pursuing the enemy, passed on through Green- 
 brier County, eastward into Highland County, and then con- 
 tinued their eastward course down the south branch of the 
 Potomac to New Creek, now Keyser, W. Va., on the Balti- 
 more and Ohio Railroad, where they went into camp on the 
 
 287 
 
288 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 17th, after seventeen days' hard marching, in all, 296 miles, 
 a part of the time suffering intensely from cold in those high 
 mountains, constantly subject to the hidden attacks of bush- 
 whackers, and fought one of the most triumphant battles of 
 the war. The loss of the brigade was 31 killed, 94 wounded. 
 The Confederate loss was 50 killed, 250 wounded, 100 miss- 
 ing. General Averill's command captured 150 horses, 27 
 prisoners, and several hundred cattle. 
 
 The morning of December 8th was bright and warm for 
 the time of the year in those mountains, when the Fourth 
 Separate Brigade was again called out in line of march, clad 
 in full military paraphernalia, and started for Monterey, via 
 Petersburg and Franklin, arriving at the former town on the 
 nth, where they met other regiments of infantry making 
 feints to deceive the enemy as to their real intentions and the 
 objective point. At Monterey, Averill's men drew what 
 rations and forage they could carry and divested themselves 
 of all encumbrances, sending their wagon-train, with what 
 few prisoners they had, back to the railroad. 
 
 The command, consisting of four mounted regiments, one 
 battalion of cavalry, and four six-pound guns, all in light 
 marching orders, started on one of the most perilous raids 
 made during the war. 
 
 With the whole Confederate force, east and west, watching 
 every road leading into their territory. General Averill's 
 forces evaded the enemy and struck the Virginia and Ten- 
 nessee Railroad at Salem on the i6th, about two hundred 
 miles from the base of their supplies, in the very heart of 
 the enemy's country, on the line of one of the great railways 
 of the Confederacy, with Generals Imboden, Jones, Fitzhugh 
 Lee, Echols, McCausland and Jackson searching for them, 
 and they had, all told, not more than 1500 men and four 
 guns. 
 
 The brigade entered Salem about noon, and their arrival 
 filled the citizens with consternation. The column at once 
 moved to the right and left, and began the destruction of 
 public property. The following is General Averill's report: 
 
 "We approached Salem unheralded, and the whistling of 
 locomotives could be heard from that point long before it 
 
SIEGE OF KNOXVILLE, TENN. 289 
 
 was reached by us. Four miles from Salem a party of Rebels 
 from town, in quest of information concerning the Yankees, 
 met us. From some of these it was learned that a division 
 of General Fitzhugh Lee's command had left Charlottesville 
 on the 14th to intercept my command, and that a train loaded 
 with troops was momentarily expected at Salem to guard the 
 stores at that point. I hastened with my advance, consisting 
 of about 350 men and two three-inch guns, through the town 
 to the depot. The telegraph wires were first cut, — the 
 operator was not to be found, — the railroad track was torn up 
 in the vicinity of the depot, one gun was placed in battery, 
 and the advance dismounted and placed in readiness for the 
 expected train of troops. 
 
 "An inspection and estimate of the stores contained in the 
 depot and two large buildings adjacent were made, and upon 
 a subsequent comparison of notes taken, was found to be as 
 follows: 2000 barrels of flour, 10,000 bushels of wheats 
 100,000 bushels of shelled corn, 50,000 bushels of oats, 
 2000 barrels of meat, several cords of leather, 1000 sacks of 
 salt, 31 boxes of clothing, 20 bales of cotton, a large amount 
 of harness, shoes, saddles, equipments, tools, oil, tar, and 
 various other stores and wagons. A train from Lynchburg 
 soon approached loaded with troops. My main body of 
 troops was not yet in sight, and as it was necessary to stop the 
 train, a shot was fired at it from one of the guns, which 
 caused it to retire, and a third and last shot hastened its 
 movements. 
 
 "My main body of troops arrived, and parties were sent 
 four miles to the eastward and twelve miles to the westward 
 to destroy the road. The depots with their contents were 
 burned, three cars standing upon the track, the water station, 
 turn-table, and a large pile of bridge timber and repairing 
 material destroyed. Five bridges were burned and the track 
 torn up and destroyed as much as possible in six hours. The 
 'Yanks' with which we had provided ourselves proved too 
 weak to twist the U rails, and efforts were made to bend them, 
 by heating the centers, with but partial success. A few small 
 storehouses, containing leather and other valuable articles, 
 were destroyed in the vicinity. The telegraph wires were cut, 
 coiled and burned for over half a mile. The private property 
 
290 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 was untouched by my command, and the citizens received us 
 with politeness. 
 
 "The Confederates had just moved a large amount of 
 property from Lynchburg to Salem a day or two before for 
 safe keeping, as they were expecting Averill's force to strike 
 the railroad at some other point. After getting their dinners 
 in the city, the command began their return about 4 o'clock 
 P. M., little knowing the perils that awaited them on their 
 homeward march. They camped for the night at Mason's 
 Creek, about six miles from Salem." 
 
 I have at hand many official orders and reports from 
 which I might quote or give in full to show the various 
 •movements of troops in connection with those of which I am 
 writing, which would make this narrative much more exten- 
 sive, but I shall confine myself chiefly to personal remini- 
 scences. 
 
 It rained and snowed incessantly during the night, but the 
 weary and overworked soldiers slept soundly until daylight, 
 when the shrill notes of the bugle called them from their 
 slumbers to renew the march. The men were wet as if they 
 had been immersed, and covered with heavy melting snow, 
 lying in the mud, while the horses were standing knee-deep 
 in the mud, and neither man nor beast had anything to eat. 
 
 That morning I rolled myself out from under a blanket 
 covered with snow, wet, cold, and himgry, dug my saddle out 
 of the snow, and with the remainder of the men, mounted 
 my already jaded horse and resumed the march. There was 
 no time to lose, and we moved on over the mountain to 
 Craig's Creek, which was so swollen by the recent rains that 
 the command could not cross. However, we managed to 
 cross the creek three times that evening, when we had to 
 wait its abatement; and with ropes the men dragged the ar- 
 tillery through the creek, and we proceeded on to New Castle, 
 as the enemy were following us in force, endeavoring to cut 
 us off at that town. 
 
 In order to evade the enemy and throw him off his guard, 
 General Averill let it be known that we purposed starting from 
 Salem on a different road from that we came on, which, by 
 aid of some captured dispatches revealing the movements of 
 
SIEGE OF KNOXVILLE, TENN. 291 
 
 the enemy, enabled us to retrace our march on the same road 
 we had gone back to New Castle. 
 
 On the 1 8th men and horses forded cold, icy streams so 
 often that they were covered with a coating of ice, and al- 
 most numb with the cold, for part of the time the cold was 
 so intense it must have been below zero. Most of the streams 
 crossed were deep enough for the water to come up about 
 middle of the horses, and the current was so swift that in 
 order to get them across they had to be kept with their 
 breasts up the stream and thus make their way across ob- 
 liquely. Many who undertook to go straight across were 
 overthrown by the strong current, and horse and rider would 
 go tumbling down the stream. In that way several were 
 drowned. 
 
 While resting a few hours at New Castle, trying to find 
 a way of escape from there, for the enemy supposed they had 
 the "invading" Yankee forces surrounded, and would com- 
 pel them to surrender, there was a detail made of three pri- 
 vates and one sergeant, — J. N. Shahan, E. B. Creel, W. E. 
 Stafford, and myself, from Co. B, to help guard prisoners, 
 as we had about one hundred. The general soon learned of 
 an old trail that led through a gap in the mountain, over which 
 he determined to pass out of there on to Jackson's River. 
 He took two regiments, the 2d and 3d, and moved out rapidly 
 to reach a bridge across the river five miles below Covington, 
 which he approached about dusk on the 19th. As the com- 
 mand reached the Covington pike about a mile below the 
 bridge, the advance guard encountered a small force of about 
 one thousand men under command of Colonel "Mudwall" 
 Jackson, which, by a vigorous move of the whole force of 
 Union troops, quickly brushed them aside, and passed on to 
 Covington to hold another bridge there. The remainder of 
 the brigade was left with the ambulance corps and what few 
 wagons they had and the prisoners. The way was so rough 
 and narrow and icy through that mountain pass that it was 
 almost impossible to get through, and our progress was so im- 
 peded that we were at nightfall of the 19th several miles in 
 the rear. Moreover, we could not march the prisoners as 
 fast as the advance of the column moved, hence the provost 
 
292 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 guard with the prisoners and ambulance corps did not reach 
 the pike until nearly 9 o'clock P. M. The trail we followed 
 led down the mountain's side through a gorge to the pike, 
 and Jackson's forces were massed behind and below a railroad 
 embankment where it crossed the gorge over a large culvert 
 immediately below where the Union forces entered the pike. 
 And when the ambulances and all the stragglers of the com- 
 mand following the provost guard had gotten leisurely strung 
 out on that stretch of pike, not knowing, or even supposing, 
 there were any Rebel soldiers near, the enemy suddenly 
 emerged from their retreat and made a dash along the pike 
 for the bridge as fast as they could, spurring their horses 
 along, and captured all from there down. 
 
 The Staunton and Covington pike follows the river for 
 several miles, and it and the railroad parallel the river up to 
 the bridge. The pike runs between the river and the railroad 
 as far as the gorge spoken of, where it passes through the 
 culvert unrler the railroad, and from there to near the bridge 
 the railroad is between the river and the pike. Colonel Jack- 
 son had about one hundred of his most daring men mounted 
 and secreted behind the railroad embankment below the cul- 
 vert. 
 
 Observing the straggling condition of our line of march, 
 he took advantage of our weak center and sent the force 
 charging up the pike to the bridge just as we four of Co. B, 
 who happened to be together in the rear of the prisoners, 
 were halting near, or rather in the mouth of the long covered 
 bridge, to see that in the darkness of the night none es- 
 caped us, and all entered the bridge. The enemy came charg- 
 ing up the pike as fast as they could ride, yelling "the Rebels 
 are after us," and we supposed them to be our own men 
 trying to scare us, or perhaps a few w^ho had been fired upon 
 by the "Johnnies." 
 
 While I and my comrades were halted at the approach of 
 the bridge, we were each simultaneously assaulted by Con- 
 federate soldiers, thrusting pistols in our faces, demanding 
 that w^e at once dismount. Under the prevailing conditions 
 and excitement, we were very slow to comprehend our situa- 
 tion, for we still thought them our ow^n men, and at any rate 
 were disposed to argue the case with them, until they made 
 
SIEGE OF KNOXVILLE, TENN. 293 
 
 the third and last imperative demand, emphasized by a closer 
 presentation of their weapons, when, as it dawned upon us that 
 perhaps "discretion was the better part of valor," we very 
 reluctantly obeyed orders, and were hastily driven nearly two 
 miles to the rear. As those Johnny rebs charged us at the 
 bridge, they passed us and turned on our front, demanding 
 our surrender. When the man confronting Sergeant Shahan 
 demanded his surrender, he at once took in the situation, and 
 being a little in advance of myself and the other two Co. B 
 men, sharply spurred his horse, telling his assailant to "go to 
 hell," and was, ere his would-be captor could about face, 
 hidden in the dense darkness of the long, covered bridge. 
 Moreover, by that time, those intruders on our liberty and 
 personal rights had all they were able to attend to in the 
 melee they had so unceremoniously raised. In a conversa- 
 tion with our captors that night, I learned that I had the 
 honor of being captured by a captain by the name of Powell, 
 who had made up a company on the Kanawha River. I 
 also heard Colonel Jackson's acting adjutant general tell him 
 he had reported him captured in the first assault made upon 
 the enemy by General Averill's advance guard. The colonel 
 said he evaded the Union advance by making a wide detour 
 through the dense woods, which made him late getting back 
 to headquarters, hence causing apprehension. 
 
 The Confederates burned the bridge, and believing they had 
 the remainder as good as captured, they retired to a camp 
 below the culvert for the night. On the morning of the 
 20th, Colonel Jackson demanded a capitulation of the whole 
 force, but they emphatically refused to obey the Colonel's 
 order. The 14th Pennsylvania and 8th West Virginia 
 mounted Infantry were not the kind to surrender until they 
 were absolutely forced to do so. They then concentrated 
 their force on the mountainside and burned the wagons, and 
 on an old trail proceeded up the river about five miles, where 
 they found a ford and crossed over, but not without the loss 
 of a few men drowned. They caught up with the advance 
 forces the next day, only to find themselves apparently with 
 every avenue of escape blocked by the enemy more than equal 
 their own number. All forage had to be gathered on the march 
 and fed as opportunity offered, and food for the men had 
 
294 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 to be obtained in the same way, which was often beef without 
 salt; this having to be done, their progress was materially 
 retarded, when in order to make good their escape from the 
 enemy it behooved them to hasten as fast as possible. How- 
 ever, the General was equal to the emergency, and again 
 slipped out of their cordon through a narrow pass in a moun- 
 tain on another old trail, a feat the Confederates thought im- 
 possible. Thus they once more evaded the enemy and for- 
 warded couriers to Beverly to order out supplies which met 
 them on the 24th. General Averill concludes his report 
 thus: 
 
 "The road thence to Beverly was a glacier, which was 
 traversed with great difficulty and peril. The artillery was 
 drawn almost entirely by dismounted men during the 23d 
 and 24th. The officers and men undertook all that was re- 
 quired of them, and endured the suffering from fatigue, 
 hunger and cold, with extraordinary fortitude, even with 
 cheerfulness. The march of four hundred miles, which was 
 concluded at Beverly, was the most difficult I have ever seen 
 performed. The endurance of horses and men was taxed 
 to the utmost; yet there was no rest for them." 
 
 Such a march, such arduous work, and the continuous 
 apprehensive strain for seventeen days in midwinter, through 
 cold rains, snow and chilling, icy streams would be hard 
 enough for man or beast to endure in warm weather over icy 
 mountain roads. On Christmas Day the command, weary, 
 worn, and exhausted, wended its way into Beverly, where 
 it rested but two days. "Thus unaided, with a weary com- 
 mand of 1500 men," says General Averill, "I had marched 
 through a difficult country, while not less than 12,000 Rebels 
 were maneuvering to effect my capture." 
 
 The brigade sustained a loss on the Salem raid of eight 
 killed and drowned, eight wounded, five officers and nineteen 
 men captured; a total loss of 140. And yet there are those 
 to-day who wonder at the Union soldiers growing old and 
 feeble, when those seventeen days of peril, exposure, hunger 
 and exhaustion were only that much of the 1095 days or 
 1460 days during which they served their country. 
 
 The forces of Colonel Jackson remained in camp at Jack- 
 son's River depot until the 23d awaiting further orders, and 
 
SIEGE OF KNOXVILLE, TENN. 295 
 
 guarding us Union prisoners. On the 23d they sent a de- 
 tachment with the prisoners, marched until night, camped in 
 a heavily timbered woods, each prisoner receiving one 
 cracker; next day marched us to Goshen Station, and in the 
 afternoon put us on board some rickety old cars, and we 
 started for Staunton, arriving there about sundown, where 
 we disembarked and were marched to a high bleak knoll 
 southwest of town, and a strong guard placed around the 
 prisoners. The wind blew hard all night and the ground 
 froze hard. They issued to us a few sticks of cord-wood 
 which were soon consumed, and without shelter or covering 
 we lay down on the frozen ground and slept until about four 
 o'clock next morning. 
 
 That morning, without anything to eat, we were driven on 
 board a passenger train and started for Richmond, where we 
 arrived about eight o'clock that evening and were marched to 
 the Scott building and locked in. The next day they issued a 
 small piece of corn bread for our day's rations. We were 
 kept in that building until that notable cold New Year's Day, 
 January i, 1864, when we were transferred to a camp — a 
 prison pen — on the lower end of Belle Isle. That night the 
 James River froze over, so they crossed it on the ice. There 
 was the most intense suffering on that island, from hunger 
 and cold that / or anybody else ever saw on earth. I saw 
 a man with his feet frozen solid, and men dying of star- 
 vation. I thought I had been hungry before, but never knew 
 till then what it was to be famishing for something to eat. 
 They kept us there until they began sending prisoners away on 
 March 6th and 7th, and on the 8th, when the third lot was 
 called for, my comrade chums and I slipped out. We were 
 taken over to the city and incarcerated in the Cruse & Pem- 
 berton building, opposite Libby Prison. 
 
 On March loth, the 500 counted out at Belle Isle were 
 called out and marched to the south side of the river, where 
 we clambered into some old box cars until we were packed 
 like sardines, and started for somewhere south, but they landed 
 us in the Andersonville stockade prison about nine o'clock of 
 the evening of the 15th. We were in the third lot put in there, 
 making in all 1500. There was plenty of room then, and, at 
 first, we felt quite free in so large a pen — eighteen acres. 
 
296 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 But the Confederates kept forwarding prisoners from their 
 various prisons, and capturing more, until the pen was 
 crowded so during July and August the fresh arrivals could 
 scarcely find room to lie down. Our only shelter was a 
 crude dog tent or a blanket somebody might chance to have. 
 There was the most suffering there, in point of numbers, from 
 hunger and disease, of any place recorded in the annals of 
 history. Thousands of helpless prisoners died there from 
 hunger and diseases, incident to the cruel treatment forced 
 upon them by the heartless men superintending the prisons. 
 
 The following order will show the inhumanity of the super- 
 intendent of all their prisons : . 
 
 "Headquarters Military Prisons, 
 "Andersonville, Ga., July 28, 1864. 
 "Order No. 13. 
 
 "To the officers on duty and in charge of the Battery of 
 Florida Artillery at the time; upon receiving notice that the 
 enemy has approached within seven miles of the post, open 
 fire upon the stockade with grape shot, without reference to 
 the situation beyond these lines of defense. 
 
 "J. H. Winder, 
 "Brigadier General, Commanding." 
 
 Sooner than see General Stoneman, then raiding near 
 Macon, rescue the starving prisoners, he would rather kill 
 them all. We did not receive one-fourth enough of the 
 coarse corn bread to sustain life, much less the intense suffer- 
 ing we endured for the need of vegetables to ward off scurvy 
 and chronic diarrhoea. 
 
 I sat there during July and August, an emaciated, helpless 
 prisoner, famishing for want of sufficient food to sustain a 
 healthy state of body. The total number of prisoners received 
 there was 45,613. Total number of deaths, 13,714, over 
 thirty per cent. 
 
 After the fall of Atlanta the Confederates were at a loss 
 where to send their prisoners next, out of reach of the "Yan- 
 kee raiders." 
 
 On September 6th they commenced sending them to Savan- 
 nah, "to be exchanged" ( ?). On the 8th it came my turn, with 
 
SIEGE OF KNOXVILLE, TENN. 297 
 
 my comrades, to be called out for exchange. We were for- 
 warded by way of Macon to Savannah, arriving there on the 
 evening of the 9th, and as several of us could not walk, we 
 were hauled out in freight wagons to a former United States 
 parade ground, where we were put in a so-called hospital, lying 
 on the bare ground, without any covering, or anything to eat 
 from Friday to Monday. We were then put in little "A" 
 tents. 
 
 About October ist, nearly 300 of us were put in a little 
 stockade in which were tents with boards for us to lie on. 
 The last four weeks we were in that hospital, by order of the 
 commander of the post, we had a sufficiency issued to us to 
 make us feel good. The rations were all kinds of vegetables, 
 meat, soft bread, sugar, tea and coffee. About 100 of us who 
 were kept there up to that time, were paroled on November 
 17th and exchanged on the i8th, between Forts Jackson and 
 Pulaski on the Savannah River. We were taken off the mouth 
 of the Savannah River on a United States transport, and put 
 aboard the hospital steamer Atlantic, and on that taken to An- 
 napolis, Md., where I remained in the St. John's College hos- 
 pital for four weeks. After passing through the regular 
 routine incident to exchanged prisoners, we were each given 
 a thirty days' furlough, and escorted on a boat to Baltimore, 
 where each took a train for his respective home, where I ar- 
 rived on Sunday evening, December 18, 1864. 
 
PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF SHERMAN'S 
 MARCH TO THE SEA 
 
 By H. Heaton^ Commanding Co. E, 2D Iowa Infantry 
 
 I SERVED in Co. E, 2d Iowa Infantry; First Brigade, Gen- 
 eral Rice; Fourth Division, commanded by General John M. 
 Corse; Fifteenth Corps, General J. P. Osterhaus, and right 
 wing, commanded by General O. O. Howard. 
 
 In the four years of its service the 2d Iowa had over 2000 
 names on its rolls, and on this march was a full regiment with 
 almost a thousand muskets. The 3d Iowa had been consoli- 
 dated with it, and every company had been filled with drafted 
 men. Our start was made from Rome, Ga. When we reached 
 the Ogechee we found the bridge wrecked, and while a foot- 
 bridge was being thrown across the water by the engineer 
 corps, our company sat on the bank and waited. As soon as 
 possible we crossed, — one company. We deployed at once as 
 skirmishers. I was one of the "six-foot-tall men," and was 
 near the lead of the company, which deployed to the left, or 
 north side of the road. As soon as we deployed we began 
 advancing, and at once drew the enemy's fire, but we could 
 see nothing of them until we reached the edge of a large field, 
 when we saw them on the other side, perhaps an eighth of a 
 mile or more distant. A man on a white horse was seen riding 
 back and forth along their line, and we gave him particular 
 attention, but he appeared oblivious to our efforts. 
 
 Corporal John Horton told us to raise the 500-yard sights; 
 which we did, but seemingly with no better results. While 
 firing at this long distance we were ordered forward into the 
 field, and obliquely toward the right of the road. When fairly 
 in the field we received the fire from a regiment behind a bar- 
 ricade of rails, which I, for one, had not before observed, not 
 one-fourth as far away as the men we had been shooting at. 
 
 298 
 
SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA 299 
 
 There must have been several hundred of them, and they had 
 reserved their fire until we were so close it seemed a miracle 
 we were not all killed. As it was, two of our number were 
 killed and one was severely wounded. When the volley came, 
 every man in my sight dropped to the ground, and I verily 
 believed them all killed. I dropped too, behind a little stump 
 that covered my head, possibly. While hugging the ground 
 and wishing for a bigger stump, I saw Sergeant Efner run- 
 ning frantically, and calling at the top of his voice in language 
 not printable, to hurry up before they had time to reload. 
 
 Of course it seemed an unreasonable thing for one man to 
 do, but when I started, I saw almost all the other men start 
 too. They were not any more dead than myself. 
 
 We made quick time to the barricade, but its defenders had 
 not waited for us, but had hurried to get back to where the 
 man on the white horse had been. 
 
 The barricade was made by piling fence rails on the ground, 
 and then laying other rails on this pile, one end on the ground 
 and the other in the air, making the best place in the world to 
 shoot from. 
 
 Hardly had we come to what had been the enemy's line, 
 when General Howard, commanding the right wing of Sher- 
 man's army, with Major General J. P. Osterhaus, command- 
 ing the Fifteenth Army Corps, and Major General John M. 
 Corse, commanding the Fourth Division, came up the road 
 together, without horses or body guard. Osterhaus was clap- 
 ping his hands like one urging on a dog to worry a skunk, 
 saying: "Prave poys, I nefer saw such prave poys!" 
 
 The left of the company, not having been delayed by the 
 enemy's fire, had advanced much faster, and had caught a 
 number of the enemy and were bringing them in. Corporal 
 Dan Leppo, a little boy, brought in three, and there were soon 
 nineteen of them. They were North Carolina men, home 
 guards, who had been hurried down to head off Sherman. 
 
 General Howard said the prisoners must be taken to division 
 headquarters, and he personally detailed Leppo and myself to 
 take them. We went back with the prisoners to the bridge, 
 which had been repaired, and a steady column of troops was 
 passing over with artillery, and thousands waiting to cross. 
 Thousands of men, thousands of horses, acres of wagons, tents 
 
300 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 innumerable going up ; I never saw the like. It was indeed a 
 lively place. We had trouble in finding Corse's headquarters ; 
 everybody wanted to learn about the fight. 
 
 That night in camp I heard of the battle of Franklin through 
 a captured Confederate paper, the first news outside of Sher- 
 man's army we had had since starting on the march. 
 
 On the march the next day some of Co. A raided a lot of 
 beehives, and made things almost as unpleasant for us as the 
 enemy had done. 
 
 Resuming our march, we came to a swamp a good deal like 
 a lake, and here the enemy, entirely out of sight, opened on 
 us with a battery. We were marching in column. The first 
 shot struck the water a quarter of a mile short of us. The 
 
 boys laughed and yelled, ''Elevate, elevate, you , 
 
 The second shot also struck in the water, about half way be- 
 tween us and where the first had fallen. Each shot threw the 
 water fifty feet high, it seemed to me. The boys did not yell 
 so loud at the second, for though it was as impossible to hear 
 them as for the people in Iowa, yet it looked as if the battery 
 had our range. 
 
 I shall always believe that I saw the third missile coming. 
 It looked an angry black terror. The entire company must 
 have seen it, too, for every man scattered to right and left, and 
 fell to the ground, like a shock of wheat in a whirlwind. How- 
 ever, the missile struck the ground a rod or two short of us, 
 and plowed under, ricochetting on at a terrible speed. The 
 shot passed under two of our men (both of them drafted 
 men). Neither was touched, but the concussion disabled them 
 so that they were sent to the hospital, and neither of them 
 ever returned to the company, one of them dying. 
 
 While camped by the above swamp, several days, I lived on 
 "nigger" beans. The Rebel cavalry had occupied some slave 
 quarters near us and had bedded their horses with the beans, 
 which I picked out of the dirt. 
 
 In passing a poor shack of a house one day, a woman and 
 several little boys came out to look at us, and someone asked 
 her if she did not think we would soon end the war. She 
 said, "Our men will fight you as long as they live, and these 
 boys will fight you when they grow up." 
 
A REMARKABLE COINCIDENCE IN THE 
 BATTLE OF STONE RIVER 
 
 By J. H. Ray, Captain Co. F, 6oth Regiment, North 
 Carolina Volunteers, C. S. A. 
 
 At the battle of Murfreesboro, Tenn. (called by the Fed- 
 erals Stone River) December 31, 1862, and January 24, 1863, 
 a thing happened that I am sure is unparalleled in all history. 
 
 On the morning of December 31st, amid the rolling of 
 drums and the bugle calls to battle all along the lines of both 
 armies, an officer, followed a few paces in rear by his staff, 
 was seen riding down the Confederate lines, seemingly look- 
 ing over the situation. This officer presented a magnificent 
 spectacle. The man a fine figure and a superb rider; the 
 horse one of the finest, noticeable by his majestic bearing and 
 peculiar and conspicuous marking, — a large black, with white 
 points, i. e., white face and white legs to knee joints. This 
 officer was at once recognized as General James E. Rains, at 
 one time colonel of the famous nth Tennessee Regiment. 
 Soon an advance was ordered, and General Rains again be- 
 came conspicuous, he and the black horse leading the charge. 
 The advance at quick time was soon a charge at double-quick 
 time, and under the inspiration of the Rebel yell. The Fed- 
 erals were driven back, but stubbornly yielding ground ; volley 
 after volley they poured into the charging Confederates from 
 point to point as they retreated. One of these volleys brought 
 to the ground the gallant leader, General Rains, fatally shot, 
 but his horse, unscathed, broke through their lines and was 
 lost to sight for a time. A little later, possibly not over an 
 hour, the Federals rallied, and made a counter charge on the 
 Confederates, and as they approached, it was seen that the 
 
 301 
 
302 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 general leading the charge was mounted on General Rains' 
 famous black horse, and very soon met the fate of the Con- 
 federate leader, and fell between the two lines, the horse, as 
 before, unhurt and unchecked, dashed through the Confed- 
 erate lines and into the possession of his original friends. 
 Thus were two leading officers belonging to opposing forces — 
 Confederate and Union — killed on the same day in the same 
 battle and from the same horse. 
 
FIGHTING GUERRILLAS ON THE LA FOURCHE, 
 LOUISIANA 
 
 By Captain Fred W. Mitchell, i2th Illinois Cavalry, 
 U. S. Volunteers 
 
 This is another paper furnished me by Captain Mitchell. It was read 
 by him at a meeting of the Commandery of the Loyal Legion in Wash- 
 ington, December 7, 1904. — Editor. 
 
 It was a lovely night in August, 1864, with a full harvest 
 moon shining as only a Southern moon can shine. For weeks 
 the darkies had been reporting to us that a mysterious force 
 was preparing to swoop down upon our advanced posts, at 
 Thibadeaux and along the Bayou, eighty miles above New 
 Orleans; having captured which, they would attack the city 
 itself. With a dozen or so men of our companies, Captain 
 Houk of Co. L, and I, Captain Co. I, Twelfth Illinois Cavalry, 
 decided to make a little raid on our own responsibility and 
 penetrate far enough northward to verify or disprove these 
 rumors. Our colonel commanding told us we could have his 
 verbal permission, but that he did not sanction the venture 
 nor approve the movement, as the country was said to be full 
 of Texan guerrillas. The captain and I only knew that we 
 were going somewhere to the north and west, where or how 
 far we ourselves had not even a remote idea. The whole out- 
 lying country to all of us was terra incognita. And yet from 
 the hour we set out until our return, ten days later, our move- 
 ments were generally well known and our coming oftener than 
 not anticipated at the plantations we visited. Nearly every 
 plantation throughout the South had a house darkey, as he was 
 called, generally bright and sharp and quite well educated, 
 and always loyal to his mistress. By some, to us unknown, 
 means their method of intercommunication was most ex- 
 cellent. 
 
 303 
 
304 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 We were splendidly mounted on picked horses, were armed 
 with Spencer repeating carbines, unknown in that country, and 
 carried a single blanket and an abundance of coffee. We in- 
 tended to live on the country, as the extra rations of coffee 
 were almost like coin as a means of exchange. Avoiding the 
 most traveled roads, we first visited a plantation about ten 
 miles from our camp, surprising a midnight entertainment 
 which was being given to some Rebel raiders. The men aban- 
 doned their horses and equipments and escaped into the cane- 
 brake, but the wife of one of them, who ran between us and 
 them to distract our attention and assist their escape, had her 
 braid of hair cut from her head by one of our bullets, as if by 
 a razor, though she herself was uninjured. After some un- 
 important skirmishing we were informed by one of the darkies 
 that a Rebel captain was visiting his family at an adjoining 
 plantation. We rode up to the house indicated, and quietly 
 dismounted, stationed a guard at each lower window and door 
 to prevent any escape. After but a few moments waiting the 
 front door was opened in answer to our knocking, and a very 
 handsome young woman scarcely out of her teens, almost a 
 girl, appeared with lighted candle in her hand. She did not 
 seem at all surprised, but said calmly, "Please make as little 
 noise as possible, gentlemen," using the word "gentlemen" 
 with the most scornful emphasis, "for my old mother is up- 
 stairs, very sick." 
 
 Our hasty search through the lower-floor rooms revealed 
 only empty apartments, but in the front one on the second 
 floor a very old lady was sitting in a large easy chair before a 
 log fire with her head bandaged and evidently in great pain. 
 We did not remain long in the house or find anything to re- 
 ward our search, and as the lady bade us good-by at the door 
 and sarcastically said, "Only a Yankee trick to frighten un- 
 protected women," I stopped long enough to say to her, 
 "Madam, we are after larger game than guerrilla captains, 
 and have no men to spare to send back a prisoner to our camp, 
 but tell your husband when he next visits you and desires to 
 escape capture, not only to cover up his uniform, but his spurs 
 as well." 
 
 She impulsively held out her hand and said, "God bless 
 you, Yankee captain though you are! Whatever your mo- 
 
FIGHTING GUERRILLAS, ETC. 305 
 
 tives, God bless you! We have been married but a month, 
 and he is grievously wounded and he swore he would never 
 be taken alive." 
 
 The following day, after riding about twenty miles, toward 
 noon we charged into a plantation from a back road where 
 the darkies told us a body of Rebels were camping. Too late, 
 as usual. We found everything comparatively quiet. A fine- 
 looking young man, perhaps twenty-two, dressed in white 
 duck and wearing a sombrero, dark enough for a Cuban or 
 a Spaniard, was, from the back of a beautiful blooded mare, 
 overseeing a lot of plantation darkies at work. He at once 
 rode toward us, and courteously removing his hat, said with 
 a foreign accent, "I see from your uniforms that you are Yan- 
 kees. I wish that you could have been here yesterday, for I 
 might have been spared the loss of several horses which the 
 guerrillas took away. My Kitty," stroking her glossy neck, 
 "was saved only by spending a night in the swamp." Inviting 
 us to his house, he ordered an excellent dinner for the men, 
 and taking Captain Houk and myself to his own private rooms 
 in the second story of an adjoining building, ushered us into his 
 cosy and finely furnished apartments. The handsome piano, 
 well-selected pictures, and foreign bric-a-brac looked strangely 
 out of place, miles and miles away as the plantation was from 
 even the smaller towns. While waiting for our dinner to be 
 announced, he entertained us most charmingly upon the piano 
 and later on his guitar. He said, as we were bidding him 
 goofl-bv : "You would not think, perhaps, that I am a negro; 
 my father's plantation is but four miles north of here, and I 
 hope you will visit him if going in that direction. He is the 
 well-known Dr. C. I am his son and have spent three years 
 in Paris ; but he is getting on in years and wanted me nearer 
 him in these troublous times. No, the Rebels do not molest 
 him nor me personally ; but they run off with our stock, steal 
 our horses, and trample our fields, but so far have only threat- 
 ened us. Father and I are both Masons." He had already 
 found out that I was one. 
 
 A few hours later we visited his father and found him a 
 most courteous host, in appearance something like our own 
 Fred Douglass. The sideboard, filled with several different 
 kinds of wines and excellent old whisky, was placed at our 
 
3o6 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 disposal. With evident pride he showed us his hbrary, a 
 large room filled on three sides from floor to ceiling with hun- 
 dreds of books, ancient and modern, foreign and home. Dr. 
 C. said he would be anxious to have us remain all night, but 
 that it would be extremely hazardous. The Rebels were quite 
 numerous, and were liable to visit his plantation any night in 
 fairly large numbers. The spies always seemed to keep them 
 well informed of any movements of our soldiers. He would 
 not send a written message, but told us to ride about ten miles 
 northwest if we were going in that direction, and spend the 
 night with his brother-in-law, a white man (Dr. C.'s first wife 
 was a white woman), who was also a Mason and privately a 
 Union man. 
 
 Dr. C. introduced his wife, a large, intensely black negress, 
 not especially bright and not even good-looking. We felt con- 
 fident that we had not yet met the mother of the young man 
 from whom we had recently parted. About six years ago I 
 read that Dr. C, full of years and greatly respected, and 
 known far and wide as one of the best-read men, either white 
 or black of the State, or perhaps the entire South, was dead. 
 
 Reaching the plantation mentioned toward sundown, we 
 were cordially received and the negro servants were directed 
 to get a good supper for the men, while the captain and my- 
 self were as usual invited up to the big house. After washing 
 and brushing up as well as we could, the captain and I entered 
 the sitting room, darkened to keep out the flies and mosquitoes. 
 A lady about thirty years of age, elegantly dressed, imme- 
 diately rose and extending her hand to me said, in the most 
 cordial tones, "Why, Captain, this is a most unexpected 
 pleasure. How are your brother and the Colonel ?" 
 
 I replied, "The Colonel was well when I saw him a week 
 or so ago and my brothers were, when I heard from them 
 several months ago. Have you not mistaken me for someone 
 else?" 
 
 She withdrew her hand, and reseating herself said, rather 
 haughtily, "I do not forget old friends as easily as you seem 
 to." 
 
 "Excuse me, madam, but unless I have met you elsewhere, 
 there must be some mistake, for this is the first time I have 
 ever been within many miles of this plantation." 
 
FIGHTING GUERRILLAS, ETC. 307 
 
 As I made this remark I happened to glance at the old gen- 
 tleman, a white-mustached, military looking man, and noticed 
 he was standing in quite a threatening attitude, his eyes fairly 
 blazing with excitement, if not anger. Advancing a step 
 toward me and placing his arm around the lady's waist, he 
 said, "Daughter, as our New York friend forgets so easily, 
 we must beg to be excused from dining with strangers. Gen- 
 tlemen," said he, to both of us (poor Captain Houk had not 
 even been introduced and was evidently greatly surprised), 
 "dinner is ready. Permit me and my daughter to retire." 
 
 "One moment, sir," I said, standing directly in his path, "I 
 shall not permit either of you to go while laboring under so 
 ridiculous a delusion. ]\Iy name is Captain Fred W. Mitchell 
 of Company I, 12th Illinois Cavalry, and this is my friend, 
 Captain Houk of Company I. Neither of us has ever been 
 within a hundred miles of this plantation, and a year ago, at 
 the time you say I was a recipient of your hospitality, I was 
 serving with my regiment in the Army of the Potomac." 
 
 "Have you a brother or brothers in the Union Army ?" fal- 
 tered the lady. 
 
 "I have two, one a captain and the other a lieutenant in the 
 128th New York Infantry." 
 
 "We beg most sincerely that you will pardon us," said both 
 at once. "You certainly must forgive us, and your remark- 
 able likeness to your younger brother must be our excuse. 
 The 1 28th New York was encamped with us for many months, 
 and when your brother and the Colonel were ordered away, 
 they certainly showed their regret at leaving. You can imagine 
 how we felt when, in less than a year, it seemed as if for 
 some reason, you were determined to ignore our pleasant 
 former relations." 
 
 After a most toothsome dinner we enjoyed some really ex- 
 cellent music by our hostess, while our men were summoned 
 to the lawn and the darkies sang some of their old-time melo- 
 dies and weird hyinns until we almost forgot that we were in 
 a land of war and rumors of wars. 
 
 The guerrillas crowded our pickets pretty close that nigh^ 
 and some shots M^ere exchanged, but our very boldness in pene- 
 trating so far inside their lines made them pretty cautious. 
 They did not know whether we had twenty men or two hun- 
 
3o8 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 dred, or even represented the advance of Banks' army, as by 
 keeping the back roads we had traveled over a hundred miles 
 from our headquarters. We broke camp about 4 A. M. and 
 after penetrating twenty-five miles into the Teche country, 
 stopped for a lunch and to breathe our horses. Our last host 
 had supplied the captain and myself with a couple of bottles 
 of most excellent whisky, and with our horses unbridled, our 
 men were taking a morning nip. Whenever we halted, our 
 sergeant, without waiting for orders, always rode a hundred 
 yards or so ahead and posted a couple of the men on guard. 
 Suddenly a shot rang out and we knew it came from them, 
 else the Rebels were upon us. Almost instantly, as it seemed 
 to me, we had bridled our horses and were charging down the 
 road, no one knowing what the next moment might bring 
 forth. Our sergeant suddenly appeared from the swamp to 
 the right of the road, hatless and muddy, on foot, and grab- 
 bing a carbine from one of our men dashed back into the 
 woods. Rapid firing was soon heard and when, after flounder- 
 ing with our horses through the swamp, I reached the stream 
 with five of my men, we found that the sergeant had killed 
 one of the Rebels and wounded another. The one killed 
 proved to be the leader of the guerrilla party, which we later 
 learned numbered nearly 100 men. The leader's old Confed- 
 erate jacket lay on the bank at our feet, no one caring to touch 
 it; but in it there was a roll of $70,000 in United States green- 
 backs. We were reliably informed the next day that this 
 party had been going through the country, by orders, for over 
 three weeks, confiscating all greenbacks as contraband articles 
 of war, and the above amount was actually taken from the 
 jacket. When with five of the captured ponies I returned to 
 the road, I found that Captain Houk with the balance of the 
 command had pushed ahead after the main body. Falling 
 back to an old dismantled fortification, within an hour I was 
 holding a dozen citizens under duress, all of whom, if not 
 actually taken in arms, were openly hostile, and it kept my 
 small force very busy preventing their escape. Toward even- 
 ing Captain Houk returned, having pursued the party many 
 miles, wounding several of them and scattering their force in 
 the swamps and byways where our heavier horses dared not 
 follow. 
 
FIGHTING GUERRILLAS, ETC. 309 
 
 Our sergeant informed us that when he posted his pickets 
 about the usual distance in advance, he rode beyond the next 
 bend of the road. There sat two men in blue uniforms. 
 Knowing that he was the advance of our party and that these 
 must be Rebels, he had just raised his carbine when dozens of 
 men rushed out from either side of the road and demanded 
 his surrender. Of course there was no alternative. The cap- 
 tain disarmed him and asked him how many men there were 
 with him. The sergeant was an Irishman and answered quick 
 as a flash, "Hundreds, and Banks' whole army is behind 
 them." 
 
 Just then he heard the click of a revolver close to his left 
 cheek and as he involuntarily threw his head back a bullet 
 from the treacherous foe grazed his forehead. That was the 
 shot we heard, and the sergeant said that though minutes seem 
 long at such times, it appeared as if we came to his rescue 
 before the echo of the shot had ceased. Hearing our charge, 
 and believing that the army was indeed coming, the guerrilla 
 captain cried out for each to save himself. It was this captain 
 whom the sergeant killed a few moments later, wounding, as 
 he was swimming the stream, the one who had fired at him 
 after his surrender. 
 
 Nothing of especial note occurred until, a few evenings 
 later, we reached the town of Placjuemine on the Mississippi, 
 where an artillery regiment was stationed, composed of North- 
 ern colored men. My men were very tired, had just unsaddled 
 and were engaged in making coffee, calculating on their well- 
 earned rest and a good night's sleep, free from picket duty. 
 A man rode into camp and announced in great excitement 
 that the four couriers who carried the mail from Plaquemine 
 to Donaldsonville, a distance of about twenty-five miles (a 
 detail from our own regiment), and who were always un- 
 armed and considered non-combatants, as they delivered the 
 mail or matter not contraband to those living along the line, 
 had been ambushed by the guerrillas and cruelly murdered. 
 Without orders and without a murmur our men instantly sad- 
 dled and we dashed down the river road, our hearts full of 
 vengeance. But it was the same old story. At the house of 
 an old Frenchman, however, we found one of our murdered 
 soldiers. The Frenchman gave me a Masonic sign and upon 
 
3IO THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 my responding told me with tears in his eyes how the poor 
 fellow, after being shot from his horse, had dragged himself 
 to his house. Three of the guerrillas had followed him and 
 wanted to finish their work, but he, seeing a Masonic badge 
 upon the soldier's shirt, had rushed into his house and, re- 
 turning with a revolver, had stood over the soldier's body and 
 sworn that no further violence would be allowed unless they 
 first killed him. His daughter told me that her father had 
 called them cowards and assassins to their faces and ordered 
 them to leave his house and, like cowards as they were, they 
 slunk away. 
 
 After a few days of further scouting, without special ad- 
 venture, and having disproved the rumors that had originally 
 induced our raid, we reached our home camp. And now 
 occurred the curious sequel. 
 
 Presumably the same reports that had given us reason for 
 our trip had reached the commanding general at Thibadeaux, 
 and the day following our return. Captain Lawson of an 
 Indian cavalry regiment, suddenly rode into our camp fol- 
 lowed by at least a hundred mounted men. He and his lieu- 
 tenant inquired for me and showed me their orders from the 
 general to make almost the identical trip from which I had 
 just returned. I stated to them very earnestly that it would 
 be a foolish and useless expedition; that Captain Houk and I 
 had just reached camp after penetrating the Rebel lines and 
 scouring the country for over a hundred and fifty miles with 
 about a dozen men, and had used every means in our power 
 to provoke a fight with the Rebels whom we met ; only a few 
 bands of guerrillas were encountered who proved to be a cow- 
 ardly, murdering set, and that we would be perfectly willing 
 to take ten picked men and camp almost anywhere within that 
 radius, for an indefinite time. Of course, this report could 
 not but impress him, but he said his orders were imperative, 
 particularly as to learning if there was a Rebel camp at Lake 
 Natchez. 
 
 ''Why, that is but ten miles distant," I answered, "and we 
 ride down there every few days. We camped there night 
 before last and there isn't a Rebel force within a hundred 
 miles." 
 
 He decided, however, to go there and camp, and if he could 
 
FIGHTING GUERRILLAS, ETC. 311 
 
 learn nothing himself, then to send the result of our trip to 
 the general, and await further instructions. 
 
 At midnight of the following day we were awakened by 
 the sudden entrance of a soldier into the house we used as 
 headquarters, where the door stood always wide open. Upon 
 striking a light, we found that he was in a sorry plight, cov- 
 ered with mud and brambles and almost exhausted. Two 
 of his comrades came in shortly afterward in the same condi- 
 tion. They said their camp at Lake Natchez had been at- 
 tacked by several hundred Rebels the night of the day they 
 left us, that all their officers had been killed, and that so far 
 as they knew, they were the only survivors of the entire force. 
 They themselves had been on picket duty, and in some way 
 had not been attacked, so had concealed themselves in the 
 swamp, and after the Rebels had left, had made the best of 
 their way to our camp, all the other pickets and men being 
 either killed or captured. During the day, however, twenty 
 additional men straggled in, all telling about the same story, 
 though ignorant of many of the details. Immediately upon 
 learning the story of the first arrivals, the camp was aroused, 
 boots and saddles were sounded and Captain Steele, command- 
 ant of our post, with eighty of our own men, all armed with 
 the Spencer carbine, rode rapidly to Lake Natchez and with- 
 out any difficulty scattered the Rebel force, driving some into 
 the scows across the lake and the rest into swamps. The second 
 day Captain Lawson came in, reaching us in a most wretched 
 condition, half starved and completely heartbroken at his great 
 loss of both men and material. We learned from him that his 
 camp had been completely surrounded by the Rebels, and that 
 when the attack was made, all but the pickets were sound 
 asleep, and the surprise was complete. The captain had rallied 
 a few of his men and had fought desperately, but was quickly 
 overpowered, though he and a few of his followers had 
 escaped to the swamps. To this day I believe not one of the 
 captured has ever been heard from. Lawson said that he 
 knew this was the end of his military career, for while he be- 
 lieved he had taken every military precaution, no officer could 
 explain away such a disgrace. I tried to console him as best I 
 could ^nd told him that I considered myself in a measure 
 responsible for his surprise on account of the statement I had 
 
312 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 made to him, and hoped he would make use of me to his best 
 advantage. About a week later I received a letter from him 
 stating that he had been placed under arrest, and that his trial 
 would take place at once. He wished me to come to Thiba- 
 deaux and act as his counsel. I obtained leave of absence and 
 rode to his headquarters, but when I met him informed him 
 that while I was perfectly willing to be his principal witness 
 and take my full share of the blame for advising him that 
 there was no danger, and that he would meet no hostile force 
 on his trip, that I was in no sense of the word a lawyer and 
 wholly ignorant of what my duties as such might be; that it 
 was too serious a matter for him to take any chances. But 
 he was very stubborn and said that I knew all the circum- 
 stances and that it should be by me or no one. Of course, I 
 consented, determined to do all in my power in his behalf, I 
 found that the captain was exceedingly popular with his men 
 and that none of those who escaped blamed him in the least 
 for their surprise and defeat. Among them, there were in all 
 six who had been on picket. On the court-martial they tes- 
 tified that the captain had posted in all fifteen men and had 
 presumably given each the same orders he had to themselves ; 
 which were, to act as if an attack was liable to be made at any 
 time and to let no one approach near them from the outside, 
 without promptly challenging him. His expression had been : 
 "It will be pretty safe to shoot first and inquire afterward." 
 During the progress of the trial, one of the Rebels, who had 
 been brought in a prisoner by Captain Steele, sent for me, 
 stating that he had something of importance to communicate. 
 He said that he had heard that the officer in command of the 
 party lately defeated was being tried by court-martial and he 
 wanted me to summon him as a witness. While he was a 
 Rebel, his folks had formerly lived in the North and he didn't 
 believe in any man being disgraced without cause. On the 
 witness stand he stated that their own camp consisted of about 
 500 men stationed many miles beyond this lake, and that their 
 scouts had brought them notice that a small party was raiding 
 through the Teche country. So they organized an expedition, 
 not only to capture that particular party, but also to surprise 
 our main camp and get possession of our splendid horses, of 
 which they had often heard, and which by Banks' orders we 
 
FIGHTING GUERRILLAS, ETC. 313 
 
 had during the early summer confiscated while acting as pro- 
 vost guard. Captain Houk and myself had moved too rapidly 
 and boldly to be taken, and their command was lying quietly 
 in camp, by Lake Natchez, waiting for night to attack our 
 own camp, when their scouts reported the approach of Cap- 
 tain Lawson and his company. The Rebel leader at once 
 ordered a dozen of his men to climb trees in the vicinity and 
 watch, and later report all the movements of Lawson's com- 
 mand, who had arranged his camp almost within speaking 
 distance of theirs. They saw each picket posted and marked 
 each man's post and the arrangement of the camp itself. A 
 Rebel officer and ten men were detailed to capture the Fed- 
 eral officers. Lawson, though undoubtedly wholly surprised, 
 acted so promptly and fought so desperately that this was not 
 accomplished and he, the captain, and most of those with him 
 cut their way out, using only their naked sabers. Later I 
 found two or three others of the captured Rebels who corro- 
 borated the first witness and showed plainly that Lawson had 
 used every reasonable precaution. My own lieutenant and 
 Captain Houk testified in the strongest manner possible how 
 we had all told Lawson that there were no Rebels in the 
 country and that he was going on a fool's errand. I finally 
 rested the case with the full conviction that acquittal was 
 almost certain or at the utmost would warrant only a formal 
 reprimand. I was personally intimate with the president of 
 the court, had served with him on previous court martials and 
 knew him and several of the members to be high-toned, liberal- 
 minded officers. What was my surprise when I later learned 
 that the sentence of the court, approved by the commanding 
 general, was dismissal from the service, a forfeiture of all 
 pay and allowance, and that Lawson should never again hold a 
 commission in any army during the war. 
 
 My own duties fully occupied me for several weeks follow- 
 ing, when one day an orderly brought me a letter from Cap- 
 tain Lawson. It was filled with thanks and thanksgiving, and 
 contained a very handsome douceur for me, with a wish that 
 it were much larger. The findings of the court had been sent 
 to General Banks, commanding the department, who had re- 
 turned them with the most scathing reprimand to the president 
 and members of the court as well as to the commanding gen- 
 
314 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 eral ; had ordered Captain Lawson to be returned to full duty at 
 once, and the proceedings of the court to be set aside. He added 
 that a slight reprimand might have been admissible and ap- 
 proved ; but in view of the unjust and outrageous disgrace that 
 a brave and honorable officer had been made to suffer, no sen- 
 tence at all would be tolerated. And to-day, along the banks 
 of this same Bayou La Fourche, and through that same wild 
 country of the Teche, where the long drooping folds of the 
 Spanish moss swing lazily in the warm breeze, men and women 
 pass and repass, with none to molest nor make afraid, and the 
 little children listen to these wartime stories as to an unsub- 
 stantiated tale of long ago. 
 
THE STRAY CONTRABAND, LOST AND FOUND 
 
 By George H. Taylor, 6th Maryland Volunteer 
 Infantry 
 
 Authentic data of real incidents of the old war of the 
 'Sixties, tersely and graphically told, will prove of vast interest 
 and value to the generation present and to that to come. Our 
 grandchildren delight to learn of the stories of heroism of 
 both the Blue and the Gray, and their children in turn will 
 be made better to learn of the brave soldiers of the North and 
 South in those days that "tried men's souls." 
 
 The battle of Seven Pines, Virginia, May 31 and June i, 
 1 86 1, teems with interest in deductions from the historic past. 
 
 Behold the Williamsburg pike as the Indian trail to Pow- 
 hatan's lodge, and over which Smith the captive was led; 
 Bacon's last march against the same power as Washington, 
 one hundred years after Cornwallis went to his doom on the 
 same route. Anglo-Saxon sires and their sons have sought 
 their adventures strangely coincident indeed. 
 
 What the significance of the wounding of General Joe E. 
 Johnston, and the assignment of Robert E. Lee as the com- 
 mander-in-chief of the Army of Northern Virginia. As the 
 leader of that valiant host, Lee will always remain the one 
 figure in arms' achievement, to beam in brilliancy adown the 
 ages. 
 
 The U. S. National Cemetery lies at the intersection of the 
 Williamsburg pike and Darlington road, where in their "pal- 
 aces of rest" seven sentinel pines cast their shadows over the 
 windowless abodes of the "blue, at rest." 
 
 I have had the honor to keep tryst with those dead and to 
 meet with "my contraband astray" on these grounds. 
 
 General Butler's lines, extending to that environment on 
 
 315 
 
3i6 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 General Grant's investment of Petersburg, and the ordnance 
 that marked the advance of the long line extending thence to 
 Hatcher's Run through the haze of that April morn, also rang 
 the death knell to the Confederacy. 
 
 Besieged at every point on the route, it came for my com- 
 mand to lead through Buckingham County to the 6th Army 
 Corps to bivouac for the night. 
 
 Here my contraband stray appeared in guise of soldier, blue 
 trailing coat tails and trousers legs after. His seven sum- 
 mers on a nearby plantation had left him lean and slim visaged, 
 and the rasher of ham on the coals sent off a Smithfield flavor 
 to induce him to "jine," and jine he did under the name of 
 Alexander Brown, colored. 
 
 The mixed orders of Grant, Sheridan and Meade, at Sailor's 
 Creek, eventuating the next day, found the 6th Army Corps 
 in a whirlwind dash into the fray to baptize our stray. Void 
 of extraneous sartorial appendages, he trailed after our charg- 
 ing columns, with great glee. He was seen on the Appomat- 
 tox firing line, but became entirely lost thereafter. 
 
 Forty-two years afterward it became the duty of the Super- 
 intendent of the Seven Pines Cemetery to introduce me to my 
 help, on taking charge as his successor. Walking among the 
 help and meeting each one, he came to one, and said, "This 
 man, for thirty years, has faithfully performed his duties over 
 these dead." 
 
 The name, Alexander Brown, came humming down through 
 the cells of memory for recognition. Brown, sickling grass 
 from about a headstone, replied to the query, "Are you a Vir- 
 ginian?" "Yes, sir," "What county?" "Buckingham," he 
 replied. 
 
 The scene shifted back, back to details voiced of the long 
 ago, scenes of campfire and field. Dropping his blade, he 
 arose and exclaimed, "The good Lord has sent you." 
 
 To-day, 'neath those sentinel pines, my stray contraband 
 holds pact with our loyal dead as of yore, and the lost has been 
 found on an old battlefield. 
 
AN INCIDENT OF HATCHER'S RUN 
 
 By William H. Stewart, Lieutenant Colonel 6ist Vir- 
 ginia Infantry Regiment, Mahone's Brigade, Army 
 Northern Virginia, C. S. A. 
 
 An incident of the starving days of the Army of Northern 
 Virginia vividly comes back to me. The sixth day of Febru- 
 ary, 1865, was murky, cold, and rainy. We were ordered 
 from our so-called winter camp on the Boydton plank road 
 near Petersburg, Va., to a forced march to reinforce General 
 John Pegram. When we reached the battlefield Pegram had 
 been killed, and his men were in full retreat. General Finne- 
 gan was our acting division commander, Mahone's Division. 
 We were hurriedly thrown in line, charged the oncoming 
 victors and turned the tide, driving them back to their fortifi- 
 cations, and then we moved back a short distance to straighten 
 and adjust our line of battle. The men hastily threw up scant 
 breastworks., and as night was fast approaching, made brush 
 shelters to protect themselves as much as possible from the 
 rain and snow, hail and sleet, but no fires could be allowed in 
 such close proximity to the enemy. 
 
 During the evening, the cooks brought to the men in line of 
 battle a small pone of bread each, the first morsel since early 
 morning. Then these hungry soldiers wrapped their shiver- 
 ing frames in wet blankets and slept as best they could under 
 the bush shelters on the frozen ground, while the pickets paced 
 their beats in front to watch the enemy. 
 
 The morning broke clear, with long icicles hanging from 
 the tree limbs and bushes, and the cold north wind was ter- 
 rible and chilling to withstand. After daylight the soldiers 
 were permitted to cut the sapling trees and build log fires, for 
 they were almost to the point of freezing on their posts. There 
 
 317 
 
3i8 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 was no activity in front of us until late in the afternoon, when 
 the enemy opened fire on us with artillery. 
 
 Four men of Co. A, 6ist Regiment, were standing in a 
 line in front of one of these log fires ; and I suppose the enemy 
 aimed his fieldpiece at the smoke, as he was not in sight; the 
 shell passed so near the first man's head that the wind knocked 
 him down, wounded the next on his hip, crushed the knee of 
 the third one, who fell forward in the fire, which severely 
 burned his hands and face before he could be pulled out, and 
 he died from loss of blood on the litter before the bearers 
 could reach the field hospital, and the fourth was seriously 
 wounded in the ankle. Sergeant Cincinnatus A. Nash, Cap- 
 tain J. T. West, Privates James E. Fulford, and Abner G. 
 Duncan were the unfortunates. Fulford went into the battle 
 with a thirty-days' furlough in his pocket. 
 
 These were the times that tried men's souls, and the most 
 desperate in m}'- experience. General Lee, under date of Feb- 
 ruary 8, 1865, reported to the Secretary of War that "All the 
 disposable force of the right wing of the army has been 
 operating against the enemy beyond Hatcher's Run since Sun- 
 day. Yesterday, the most inclement day of the winter, they 
 had to be retained in line of battle, having been in the same 
 condition the two previous days and nights. I regret to be 
 obliged to state that under these circumstances, heightened by 
 assaults and fire of the enemy, some of the men have been 
 without meat for three days and all were suffering from 
 reduced rations and scant clothing, exposed to battle, cold, 
 hail, and sleet. I have directed Colonel Cole, chief commis- 
 sary, who reports that he has not a pound of meat at his dis- 
 posal, to visit Richmond and see what can be done. If some 
 change is not made and the commissary department reorgan- 
 ized, I apprehend dire results. The physical strength of the 
 men, if their courage survives, must fail under such treat- 
 ment." Then, after telling of the condition of his cavalry 
 concludes : "Taking these facts in connection with the paucity 
 of numbers, you must not be surprised if calamity befalls us." 
 Thus our great commander most graphically describes the 
 desperate condition of his troops owing to the neglect and 
 incapacity of the commissary department. 
 
AN INCIDENT OF HATCHER'S RUN 319 
 
 At the termination of this expedition we were marched 
 back to the tents which we had vacated to fight in the Hatcher's 
 Run campaign. Notwithstanding General Lee's admonition, 
 little meat came for our haversacks, but the fighting and fast- 
 ing continued until the surrender. If the commissary depart- 
 ment had been true and vigilant, the Army of Northern Vir- 
 ginia would not have stacked arms at Appomattox. 
 
THE FIRST DAY'S FIGHT AT SHILOH, APRIL 6, 1862 
 
 By C. V. Thompson, Adjutant 13TH Tennessee In- 
 fantry, C. S. A. 
 
 General Albert Sidney Johnston, commanding the De- 
 partment of Tennessee, Confederate States Army, moved his 
 command from Corinth, Miss., to meet the advancing army of 
 the Union forces under General U. S. Grant, which had ar- 
 rived at Pittsburg Landing on the Tennessee. Our part of 
 the army moved on Thursday, and I, being detailed for ser- 
 vice in the quartermaster's department, was ordered to follow 
 with the supply train on the following Saturday, April 5, 1862. 
 About 4 P. M. I overtook the command just as a very un- 
 pleasant afifair had been settled, and found the regiment to 
 which I belonged very much excited. While encamped at 
 Corinth, the nth Louisiana Regiment, commanded by Col- 
 onel Marks, had seriously objected to being brigaded with 
 Tennesseeans, because that State had not seceded as soon as 
 Louisiana and some other States. 
 
 The brigade was composed of the 12th, 13th, and 45th Ten- 
 nessee Regiments, and the nth Louisiana, and was com- 
 manded by General Charles Clark of Mississippi. I was a 
 private of Co. H, of the 13th Tennessee Regiment, and of 
 course much interested in the disturbance which had just been 
 quelled on my arrival. The awful condition of the water- 
 soaked roads had made marching very hard, and many hard 
 speeches had been made by the Louisianians when our boys 
 got mixed up with them, but only retorts were made until their 
 colonel was heard to call out to his men, "Fall into line ! You 
 are straggling like damned Tennesseeans !" This was just too 
 much, and the 13th Regiment resented, and demanded of their 
 colonel, — A. J. Vaughn, Jr., — that it be stopped, or Louisiana 
 would be shown a test of Tennessee bravery on the spot. The 
 
 320 
 
THE FIRST DAY'S FIGHT AT SHILOH 321 
 
 matter was quieted, but resentment was still festering in the 
 hearts of the Tennesseeans. 
 
 When the army went into bivouac the wagons were un- 
 loaded and parked. I then requested permission to take my 
 place in line with Co. H, secured a gun and accouterments, 
 and reported to my captain, Robert W. Pitman. I slept that 
 night under the same blanket with the only kinsman I had in 
 the regiment, James K. Young. 
 
 It was understood by us that we were in the supporting 
 line, but would be called to march at daylight. Our corps 
 was commanded by General Leonidas Polk, known as the 
 "fighting bishop." Ere it was light, we were marched by right 
 oblique toward the left of our line. Shortly after sunrise we 
 came in sight of an extensive camp of the enemy, but no foe 
 in sight. The battle had already begun on our right, and the 
 glory of that Sabbath morning was tarnished by awful sounds 
 of roaring artillery and the rattle of musketry, and we knew 
 that the sun was looking down upon scenes of carnage and 
 death. Louder and nearer came the roll, when suddenly in our 
 front burst the flash and roar of cannon, though we could not 
 see the guns. This battery was not more than 500 yards from 
 us, but evidently we were not seen by its gunners. Amid this 
 crashing of shells and thunderbursts of the enemy's guns, not 
 at all hurting us. General Polk rode up, and inquired, "Who 
 is in command of this brigade?" "I am," said General Clark. 
 "Ah, that's it," said General Polk. "I want you to send a 
 regiment to capture that battery. I can't place my line till it's 
 silenced." Turning to the Louisiana regiment. General Clark 
 said, "Colonel Marks, can you take it?" "I can try," was 
 the reply. "All right, I will lead you," said General Clark. 
 "Attention, forward, double quick, march!" was the com- 
 mand. Up the slope with a yell they rushed, for a short dis- 
 tance hidden by the enemy's tents. As soon as they were in 
 view, a round of four guns greeted them, but the aim was too 
 high, so on they went; a second round and whole platoons 
 were swept from their line, and the bullets from the support- 
 ing infantry hailed upon them. They reeled, they faltered, 
 they broke ; rushing to the rear, leaving General Clark with 
 many of their officers and companions stretched upon the 
 field. Many guns and other equipments were thrown away in 
 
322 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 their rush backward. One fellow threw a nice canteen full of 
 water at my feet, which I used and prized for many months 
 afterward. On seeing the panic, General Polk again appeared 
 on our line, and asked, "Who is in command ?" Colonel Russell 
 of the I2th Tennessee replied, "I am, General," "Send a 
 regiment to take that battery. It must be silenced," said Gen- 
 eral Polk. I stop here to affirm that these Louisianians were 
 not cowards, but grape, canister and Minie balls raining upon 
 them, as if from the very mouth of hell, swept their line so 
 that no mortal could withstand it. The carnage was dreadful ; 
 not a mounted officer left, no one to command; what could 
 they do but fly ? The Tennesseeans taunted not at all ; but went 
 with a rush to their aid, and fell back with them to the cover of 
 the little hill. 
 
 Taking up the story with General Polk's last command, 
 Colonel Russell said to our colonel, "Vaughn, can you take 
 it?" "Yes, if you will let me do it my way," said he. "Do it 
 any way you can," said General Polk. Colonel Vaughn had 
 observed a dense hedge-row on the right of the old field, so 
 by marching us to the right we could be hidden from view 
 until we would be very much nearer the battery when we 
 made the charge, and would strike them in flank rather than 
 in front. 
 
 While we made this silent and hidden march, the enemy 
 were pounding the woods in rear of where we had stood. 
 And when we had reached the nearest point under cover, 
 Vaughn's clarion voice rang out, "On the right, company 
 forward into line, double quick, march, charge!" Here the 
 surprise was reversed, and it was a close hand-to-hand fight, 
 our rapid movement bringing us so near the guns that our 
 chief grapple was with the infantry support, for the cannon 
 were quickly in our possession and although our loss in officers 
 and men was terrible, we had the battery and held the ground. 
 It was here that the grand old 13th Tennessee won for her 
 flag the first cross cannons. 
 
 With this, the battle was now all along the line — charge and 
 counter-charge. General Polk succeeded in doubling the Fed- 
 eral line back on itself, then charging front, drove it back 
 toward the river, but every foot of ground was disputed. The 
 report of the death of our loved commander, General Albert 
 
THE FIRST DAY'S FIGHT AT SHILOH 323 
 
 Sidney Johnston, did not reach ns on the left until the middle 
 of the afternoon. This did not depress us, but rather spurred 
 to revenge, and our lines surged against the foe until we could 
 see the bluecoats taking shelter under the fire of the gun- 
 boats and the river banks. We felt that victory was ours. 
 
 I have told what I saw. What would have been the result 
 had General Beauregard pressed on until night, — or as to 
 what was the condition of General Grant's army when General 
 Buell arrived, and other questions as to the battle of Shiloh, 
 I need not say. Every man will have his own opinion. I 
 have conversed with many officers and men who took part in 
 that great battle, — both Union and Confederate, — and I am 
 confident that my account is correct. I am also confident that 
 General Grant's army was routed, demoralized, and in the 
 condition to surrender had our commander, General Beaure- 
 gard, pressed on. But he made the fatal mistake, and before 
 the light of the morning of the 7th, General Buell's forces had 
 arrived. Thus, so largely reinforced, the Union army took 
 up the fight with determined energy, and from early morn 
 until middle afternoon, the battle raged. Ground was gained, 
 then retaken again and again. Americans met Americans, 
 and then came the tug of war! General Beauregard retired 
 from the field in as good order as possible with the water- 
 soaked earth and the thousands of dead and wounded men, 
 dead horses, broken cannon, wagons, and fallen trees. We 
 brought off most of our wounded, largely in captured ambu- 
 lances and wagons, many fine fieldpieces, thousands of small 
 arms, ordnance and hospital stores, together with crowds of 
 prisoners, including- General Prentiss' entire brigade. 
 
THE NEWSBOY IN WAR TIMES— ONE WHO WAS 
 
 HIT BY A STRAY BULLET 
 
 I 
 
 By C. E. Goldsborough, Surgeon, Pennsylvania 
 Volunteers 
 
 Of all the many interesting characters associated with the 
 army during the Civil War, there was none more interesting 
 than the newsboy, and yet his praises have remained unwritten 
 in verse or prose. The reader — or many of them — will be 
 surprised to hear that the soldiers sought in the Northern 
 papers for information of the movements of the army of 
 which he was a part. The soldier knew but little of what 
 took place outside his brigade, and often nothing that went 
 on outside of his own regiment. He would hear heavy firing 
 off on the right or left, and wait patiently until he received 
 the papers the next day, or the day after, to learn through the 
 dispatches that the 2nd or some other corps had been assaulted 
 or had made an assault upon the enemy. 
 
 Of course while on the march we rarely ever saw a paper, 
 but while in front of Petersburg during the summer of 1864, 
 a little newsboy would gallop along in the rear of our line 
 among the camps with a bundle of papers nearly as large as 
 himself. He hailed from New York, rode a good horse, and 
 did a lucrative business. He was a bright lad and smart at 
 repartee, and knowing no fear himself, smiled at the fear of 
 others. He would place his thumb to his chubby little nose 
 and twirl his fingers as he sat upon his horse, at a shell hissing 
 over his head, and, watching until it struck and sent clouds of 
 dust high in air, calmly remark, "That was a little buster." 
 
 He knew a shell from a solid shot and could even distin- 
 guish one kind of shell from another by the noise it made in 
 its flight through the air. As the Minie balls whistled over 
 
 324 
 
THE NEWSBOYS IN WAR TIMES 325 
 
 him he would start up and sing a parody on the song of "The 
 Nightingale," as he galloped away: 
 
 "Listen to the bumble bees, listen to the bumble bees, 
 A-singing all the day, 
 Oh, don't you hear them bumble bees, 
 A-singing far away !" 
 
 His cheery ways and childish banter with the men always 
 made him an interesting visitor to the camps. 
 
 The boys of my regiment had constructed a "dugout" in 
 the side of a hill, close to a small stream of water, for our 
 headquarters and hospital stores. The outside and one gable 
 W'Cre of logs and the top also of logs covered with about a foot 
 of earth. It was proof against flying pieces of shell, but 
 would not protect us from a shell that struck it fairly. An 
 Irishman had pitched his dog-tent up against the gable end 
 of our quarters, and when not in the trenches with his com- 
 mand, he occupied it. The newsboy was in the habit of selling 
 the Irishman a paper as well as supplying us. One night the 
 Johnnies opened an enfilading fire upon our works, and our 
 quarters were directly in line. The Irishman happened to be 
 in the trenches that night when a shot struck the end of our 
 shack and scattered the logs in every direction. Of course, 
 there was not a vestige of the Irishman's tent left. 
 
 The next day when the newsboy made his rounds, our house 
 presented quite a dilapidated appearance, and while surveying 
 the ruins, the newsboy suddenly remembered the Irishman 
 and hurriedly asked, "An' what became of the Mick?" and 
 we all laughed heartily at his fear of having lost a customer. 
 
 Generals Martindale and Ames had their tent pitched in an 
 open space just below where we were. They each had a cot 
 on opposite sides of the tent, and one day were resting on their 
 cots when the newsboy galloped up with his papers. General 
 Ames being the younger, it was said, went out to get some 
 papers, and while outside, a Whitworth shot passed through 
 the tent and, striking the cot, twisted it into scrap-iron; 
 the newsboy enjoyed telling, in his quaint way, how he had 
 saved the life of a general. 
 
 There came a day when our newsboy did not put in an 
 
326 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 appearance, and for several days we received no papers, when 
 at last a man rode around distributing them ; when asked about 
 the little fellow, he said that he had been stung by one of 
 "them there stray bumble bees," off on the left of the line and 
 had been sent to the hospital, and we never heard anything 
 more from him. 
 
 I have often thought a book of reminiscences written by 
 one of them describing his army experience during the war 
 would make very interesting reading, but the field has been 
 monopolized by "war correspondents" attached to some head- 
 quarters and as they were "literary fellers" they have told all 
 they knew, and very much that was not true, while the news- 
 boy, being thoroughly cosmopolitan, was simply a "rustler." 
 
THE SHIRT THIEF 
 By B. a. Spring^ Private, Co. K, 34TH Indiana Infantry 
 
 I WAS on guard at the colonel's headquarters. It was a 
 beautiful summer morning. The colonel was seated on a 
 campstool in front of his tent, airing his 240 avoirdupois. 
 
 There was commotion and boisterous talking in the third 
 company on the left. Soon a guard armed with an Enfield 
 rifle brought a soldier under arrest from the scene to the 
 colonel. After the customary salute, the guard handed the 
 colonel an instrument in writing. After scanning it closely, 
 he said to the arrested man, "I see from this, you are accused 
 of stealing a shirt from one of your regimental comrades. 
 Are you guilty or not guilty?" The man said, "I am guilty, 
 colonel." "Well, that )s too bad," said the colonel. "Had I 
 known you were that hard up, I would have loaned you one 
 till you drew your pay." "I didn't need it so bad as that, col- 
 onel." "So much the worse," retorted the colonel. "Perhaps 
 you took it from one who needed it for a change. Well, ac- 
 cording to military law I'll have to punish you. I guess I'll 
 leave it to you what the punishment shall be." The culprit, 
 assuming a bold front, said, "Well, colonel, I reckon you'll 
 have to shoot me, or buck and gag me." "Oh, well," said the 
 colonel, "it would be too bad to shoot a man, or even to buck 
 and gag a man for so small an offense as stealing a shirt ; I'll 
 tell you what you do ; go with the guard, and stick your head 
 into each and every tent in the regiment, beginning at Com- 
 pany A, and tell them you stole a shirt." "Oh, colonel," he 
 stammered, "I can't do that; the man I took the shirt from 
 would be sure to find out who stole his shirt. I believe I'd 
 about as lief be shot as do that." "By doing the way I tell 
 you," said the colonel, "you'll live longer, and maybe the 
 Rebels will have a chance to kill you, and then you can die an 
 
 327 
 
328 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 honorable death. Go and do as I tell you. Guard, go with 
 him, and see that he carries out my orders, then return him to 
 me." The orders were fully obeyed, amid the uproar, jeers 
 and laughter of the regiment. The guard returned the man 
 to the colonel. Then the colonel said, "You go to your tent, 
 get that shirt, and take it to the tent where you got it. Call 
 for the owner, give it to him, and ask his forgiveness." The 
 task was performed. The guard took him back to the colonel. 
 By that time, the colonel had entered his tent, and was seated 
 at his desk busily writing. The man thrust his head into the 
 door of the tent and said, "Colonel, I stole a shirt." The 
 colonel smilingly glanced back over his shoulder and said, 
 "All right, go to your quarters." 
 
 Sufficient to say, that method of punishment as effectually 
 cured that man of stealing from his comrades (which he had 
 been in the habit of doing) as if the colonel had had him shot. 
 But he received and bore the title from his comrades, "The 
 Shirt Thief." 
 
THRILLING INCIDENTS WITH BUSHWHACKERS 
 By a Private in the 30 New Jersey Cavalry 
 
 The letter accompanying the following has been lost, if one was sent 
 with the article; hence I am unable to give the author's name. — Editor. 
 
 During July, 1864, under the command of William M. 
 Robeson, major of the regiment, a battalion of the regiment 
 was ordered out to a position on the left of our lines, about 
 fifteen miles southeast of Petersburg; we were on the extreme 
 left of our line picketing and patrolling. Our mail post was 
 on a road called Lee's Mill road. 
 
 For three consecutive nights before we relieved the cavalry 
 that preceded us there had been a vidette killed. We were 
 cautioned to be on the alert, so we changed our post to the 
 west side of the road, 
 
 George Baker was on the post about midnight. His good 
 steed gave him warning that there was "something doing." 
 
 I have forgotten whether George fired, or the other fellow 
 fired, or both did, but I remember the commotion, as I was 
 eighty rods below them on the road. 
 
 The woods had been burned over, and it was no task for 
 us to trace the footsteps of the marauder. It was done, and 
 there followed one of the never-told tales. Suffice it to say he 
 was punished. 
 
 On the following day, six of us went out on patrol. We 
 picked up six men that we proved beyond the shadow of a 
 doubt were not there for our benefit. We took them to Gen- 
 eral Patrick's headquarters, and never inquired what became 
 of them. All I know is that they were punished. 
 
 We satisfied ourselves before returning, July 4th, that the 
 country was full of these marauding bushwhackers ; they were 
 hovering around our outskirts, killing and plundering any of 
 
 329 
 
330 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 our men who were unfortunate enough to stray beyond our 
 lines, themselves probably in search of plunder, but not to 
 murder. 
 
 Our report that night caused some anxiety, and Major 
 Robeson deemed it expedient to send out a scouting party and 
 find out who and what these men were — Captain McClung of 
 Co. G, with a part of the men, and Lieutenant Birdsall of Co. 
 H, with the balance, — in all, thirty men. 
 
 When about five miles south of our camp, the captain and 
 lieutenant rode on ahead of us, and when about forty rods 
 ahead, they were fired on by a hidden foe. Poor Birdsall fell 
 dead from his horse, a ball passing through his body. At the 
 same time we men were having troubles of our own. Most 
 of us were between two brigades, bridging two swamp 
 streams, and the planks began to disappear, and we were 
 caught in a trap, as mice are. But we all got away. Those of 
 us who had time to look, saw men rush out at McClung; the 
 captain made a dash through them, striking right and left with 
 his saber, — or perhaps it was a light, single-shot carbine; he 
 dashed his little sorrel horse into the swamp, followed by lots 
 of lead. That was the last we saw of the captain for an hour 
 or two. 
 
 But what of the men? We had all gotten out of the trap, 
 and were on the north side of the stream. We did not want 
 to go away and leave our lieutenant's body, yet we feared to 
 go after it. Sergeant Murphy was commanding the squad; 
 he threw out some pickets. In about an hour, perhaps two, I 
 saw some dust arising half a mile north of us and I gave 
 the alarm, feeling sure it was a body of cavalry. Minot, 
 Crozier and I lay in wait for them to get near enough for a 
 sure shot. I remember joking with Minot about shooting over 
 the head of a Reb at Weldon Station; he excused himself by 
 saying, "I could have killed him, of course, but that would 
 have done me no good, and would not have ended the war." 
 I said to him in reply, "Don't be so merciful this time." 
 
 The cavalcade had come within two hundred yards, and I 
 had a sight on the head man, when, all at once, I thought I 
 recognized Lieutenant Tomlin or another lieutenant of Co. F 
 of my regiment. They came to us with a dash and at the head 
 was Captain McClung with thirty men. 
 
INCIDENTS WITH BUSHWHACKERS 331 
 
 Now, three men, headed by Robert Bell, one of the bravest 
 boys that wore the blue, dashed up the hill, picked up Bird- 
 sail's body and ran down to the bridge with it. After wrap- 
 ping it in a piece of a shelter tent, we carried it up to a small 
 schoolhouse, and reverently and tenderly laid it on the grass 
 under the trees. Then we each laid our hands upon the body 
 and then raised them to heaven and followed Captain McClung 
 in a solemn oath that retaliation for this death should be faith- 
 fully carried out. Shortly after this, followed another of "the 
 never-told tales" of the Civil War. 
 
 There are but two of those who took that oath alive to-day, 
 and neither of us will ever tell how faithfully that oath was 
 carried out. 
 
 Poor Birdsall's body was taken to City Point, embalmed, 
 and sent to his home, and buried in the graveyard at the little 
 church, where he as a boy attended the Sunday-school at 
 Shiloh, N. J. 
 
REVOLT OF PRISONERS AT SALISBURY, N. C 
 
 By Henry C. Sharp, 2d Sergeant Co. D, 68th Regiment 
 North Carolina State Troops, C. S. A. 
 
 About the first of October, 1864, there were confined in the 
 stockade at Salisbury several hundred officers, and ten or 
 eleven thousand soldiers, separated only by a rope across the 
 yard containing about four acres. 
 
 During the month the officers were removed, but before 
 removal, one of them was shot while sitting down on the root 
 of a large tree, by a guard. (This guard was hanged for 
 murder eight years after the war, when he confessed to having 
 killed several persons.) About the last of October the sol- 
 diers revolted, believing that our regiment (the 68th North 
 Carolina State Troops) had left on a railroad train, leaving 
 a less efficient guard. In reality, our regiment was still at the 
 depot, only two or three hundred yards distant, although the 
 whistle had signaled several times for the train to leave. 
 
 Unexpectedly, rifle and cannon firing was heard, and the 
 68th, consisting of about 400 men, ran back promiscuously, in 
 two or three minutes. The prisoners had first overpowered 
 the six or eight guards stationed inside the stockade, taken 
 their rifles and killed or wounded them; then they used the 
 captured rifles to fire on the guards stationed on the platform 
 outside of the stockade. The two pieces of small artillery at 
 the corners of the northwestern end of the stockade enfiladed 
 with grape shot the prison yard, while most of the guards on 
 the outside fired down into the prison. 
 
 It seems that the prisoners had soon become discouraged, 
 got down into their holes, or lay flat on the ground, and very 
 soon surrendered, as they heard the 68th cheering on their 
 return. When I arrived, three or four minutes later, the firing 
 had practically ceased, and I persuaded our men not to shoot. 
 
 332 
 
REVOLT OF PRISONERS AT SALISBURY 333 
 
 Three of the guard were killed, and eight were wounded. Of 
 the prisoners, 16 were killed and 60 wounded. The com- 
 mandant of the guard, Major John H. Gee (of Florida), had 
 two or three of the prisoners tied up by their thumbs, but they 
 refused to disclose the names of the ringleaders. 
 
 Many prisoners escaped dark nights, by tunneling under the 
 walls, especially the one coming up under the guard hospital, 
 which was nearly on the outside. One dark, drizzly, rainy 
 night, one of the guards on duty discovered three of the pris- 
 oners crawling along a deep, open, privy sewer on the outside. 
 The one who first discovered him, and some others of the 
 guard who hastened up, proposed to kill the three, but I was 
 sergeant of the guard that night on duty, and I prevailed on 
 these guards to allow these men to crawl back, remarking, 
 *'They will probably die soon anyhow." Recently, one of the 
 guards on duty next day, informed me that he saw two of 
 them in an extremely filthy condition, as they had no other 
 clothes to put on. The prisoners detailed to bury their dead, 
 who were put into a big ditch, their clothes having been saved 
 by the burial party, cut some fuel and bought some provision 
 from poor white women. 
 
 The fare of the prisoners was very deficient. While station- 
 ing a guard inside the kitchen of the prisoners, I tried to eat 
 some of their corn bread, but I could swallow but little, owing 
 to corncobs being ground in it. Of course Commandant Gee 
 viay not have known of this. He was very strict and rigid, 
 however, and even the guards were afraid of him. Shortly 
 after the war he was tried for cruelty to prisoners, but was not 
 convicted. 
 
 The inside sentinels would often exchange five or six Con- 
 federate dollars for one of U. S. money. I accumulated 
 some fifty or sixty greenbacks this way, and had the pleasure 
 of loaning them to my brother, who had been taken prisoner 
 by the Union soldiers, was paroled, and was through Salisbury 
 on his way home. 
 
 Early in October fifteen or twenty of the prisoners died 
 daily; early in December thirty or forty; while about Febru- 
 ary 15th some forty or fifty. They were in a distressing con- 
 dition when paroled and released, the latter part of February. 
 The Confederate resources were then nearly exhausted. 
 
A SCENE OF INTEREST IN FRONT OF "FORT 
 
 HELL" 
 
 By John Treadgill, Co. C, 14TH Regiment^ North 
 Carolina Infantry, C. S. A, 
 
 I DID not go into the service until the latter part of the war, 
 but I saw some thrilling scenes in the Valley campaign in 1864, 
 but the grandest sight, — a sight that spoke volumes for the 
 American people, — I witnessed in front of Petersburg, Va., on 
 the morning of March 25, 1865. 
 
 Our forces between midnight and day had worked their way 
 through the Federal lines at Fort Stedman, vulgarly called 
 "Fort Hell." While we were going through the obstructions, 
 the Federal picket said, "Come ahead, Johnny." They mis- 
 took us for deserters. Enough of our forces crossed over to 
 capture nearly a mile of line. We held it until after daylight. 
 The Federal forces recaptured the line from us after sunrise 
 of the same morning, and crowded us to our own works, but 
 we repulsed them. The dead and wounded belonging to both 
 sides between the two lines of works were many. The lines 
 of works were so close together at this point, there were not 
 any rifle pits or pickets between the two main lines. After 
 we had driven the enemy back from our line of works and 
 they were secure behind their own line, a flag of truce was 
 raised and recognized, and it was agreed that each army 
 should take its own dead and wounded lying between the two 
 lines. A detail was made for this purpose, but it was only a 
 short while until the entire commands of each side were on 
 the field, trading tobacco for coffee, and as agreeable and 
 sociable as if there were no war, and the wounded and dead 
 were neglected until the officers called their attention to them. 
 
 334 
 
A SCENE OF INTEREST, ETC. 335 
 
 And in the midst of this mingling of both armies, I saw a 
 Federal general salute a Confederate general, and he acknowl- 
 edged the salute. This was after the desperate fighting of a 
 few minutes before. 
 
 This could not possibly have occurred with other than 
 American people, and I have frequently referred to it as one 
 of the grandest incidents that I saw during the war in keeping 
 with our citizenship. I have seen, time and again on the line, 
 pickets meeting under a flag of truce to exchange papers and 
 tobacco for coffee, but this incident surpassed anything I ever 
 saw, coming from two generals of the respective armies. 
 
WAR REMINISCENCES FROM 1862 TO 1865 
 
 By Thomas A. Stinson, Co. C, 41 st Alabama Regiment, 
 
 C. S. A. 
 
 I am indebted for the following story of the war to the widow of the 
 author of it, Mrs. Stinson. Her husband was a Confederate soldier from 
 1862 to the end of the war, and was one of the few who kept a diary. 
 In answer to my communication to the soldier, Mrs. Stinson quickly re- 
 sponded, but gave me the information that her husband was one of the 
 many to answer the final roll call. But she said he had kept a diary, and 
 that she would permit me to take it and select from it whatever I wished. 
 The kind courtesy is very deeply appreciated. — Editor. 
 
 I WAS mustered into the service of the Confederate States 
 as a member of the Pickens County Greys, at Pickens ville, 
 Ala., on March 23, 1862. I had just passed my seventeenth 
 birthday. 
 
 On December 28th we received orders to cook three days' 
 rations and be ready to move at a moment's notice. The next 
 morning we moved and took our position about one mile from 
 town (Murfreesboro) to the right of the Nashville pike. Our 
 position was just in the edge of an oak grove, and in our front 
 was a large field. We learned that the enemy was advancing 
 on us from Nashville. During the day we could hear distant 
 firing as the cavalry fell back slowly in front of the Federal 
 army. Toward night the noise of battle came nearer, and 
 cavalrymen passed going to the rear. Late in the afternoon 
 we were advanced about half a mile to the place of battle. 
 Just at dark our skirmishers were run in by the Federals, who 
 soon retreated. Tuesday morning we threw up breastworks 
 and lay just behind Cobb's Battery, giving it support during 
 the day. During the morning it began to rain and then turn 
 cold, so that we suffered greatly from exposure the next few 
 
 336 
 
WAR REMINISCENCES— 1862 to 1865 2>Z7 
 
 days. Early Wednesday morning our attention was called to 
 heavy firing on our left, which continued all the morning and 
 part of the evening. Our left had attacked the enemy's right, 
 and after a hard fight, had driven them back and captured 
 their entire line, both sides losing heavily. Just at night the 
 Federals made an attempt against our position, which was 
 now the center of Bragg's army line, but they were driven 
 back. During the next day we lay quiet in our lines until just 
 before night, when we moved out in front of our works and 
 lay down in line of battle. We remained here some time ex- 
 posed to the heavy fire of the enemy's artillery, when we were 
 ordered back into our own lines. This movement cost us the 
 lives of several of the men, as well as a number wounded. On 
 Friday about three o'clock we were moved to the right some 
 distance, and formed in line of battle. Breckinridge's division 
 was ordered to attack the left of the enemy's line, which was 
 very strongly entrenched on the north side of the Stone River. 
 Here they had massed sixty pieces of artillery to resist the 
 attack they were expecting. Besides this, they had a strong 
 line of infantry on the south side of the river that we had to 
 encounter, before we could reach their main line of battle. 
 The division was formed in columns by brigades, ours being 
 in front. We formed under a hill out of view of the enemy, 
 and laid aside our knapsacks and blankets, so as to be unen- 
 cumbered with weight. The command to "load at will," a 
 command that always causes tremor to the soldier, soon passed 
 down the line. General Hanson came to our color bearer and 
 gave directions as to the course he was to take. Soon the 
 bugle sounded the advance and forward we went through an 
 old sage field and to the west of the hill, where we encountered 
 their lines of infantry, and soon had them on the run for the 
 north side of the river to the protection of their batteries. We 
 charged down the hill through a grove of large timber, and 
 so severe was their artillery firing that large limbs were cut 
 off, and falling, hurt a great many of our men. About this 
 time I received a slight wound on my head, but continued to 
 press forward with the colors, as about three months before 
 this I had been promoted to color corporal, which position I 
 held through the war. I had reached a point near the river, 
 and but a short distance from the enemy's lines when I was 
 
338 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 wounded in the arm and had to go to the rear, where my 
 wound was dressed. In this attack our men met with a bloody 
 repulse and our loss was heavy. General Roger Hanson, 
 commanding the brigade (ist Kentucky), and several of his 
 staff officers, were killed. Wright's Battery, that was at- 
 tached to our division, was torn to pieces, and nearly all the 
 officers and men killed or wounded. The 41st suffered dread- 
 fully, five in my company being killed besides those wounded 
 and taken prisoners. Our color guard went into the charge 
 wnth a sergeant and eight corporals and came out with the 
 sergeant and one corporal, the others being killed or wounded. 
 It was the hottest place we got into during the war. 
 
 I remained in the field hospital during Saturday and that 
 night, in company with Captain Dick Dose, whc furnished me 
 with a horse, I rode all night and all day Sunday, reach- 
 ing Manchester late that evening. On Monday we found the 
 regiment at Alascondia, on the Chattanooga road, and re- 
 mained with it one night, and then I was sent to the hospital at 
 Chattanooga. I remained there one night and was then sent 
 to Ringgold, Ga. Here I was placed in a church that was 
 used as a hospital. After a stay of a week here I was sent 
 home on a sick furlough. Aside from the pleasure of getting 
 home I was glad to bid adieu to this place, as the treatment of 
 inmates was very bad. On my way home, gangrene had set in 
 in my arm, and for a long time my life was despaired of. After 
 a spell of seven months, through the loving treatment of my 
 dear mother, I rejoined my command at Morton, Miss., on the 
 Meridian and Vicksburg railroad. 
 
 About July I, 1864, we were moved to the left of Norfolk 
 railroad. The distance between the lines was so short that 
 conversation could be carried on between the pickets of the 
 two armies. Frequently a truce would be declared between 
 them and they would exchange sugar and coffee for tobacco. 
 The Federals had erected several mortar batteries on our 
 front and kept them going constantly, doing us much damage. 
 To protect ourselves from them, we dug pits in the ground 
 and, placing logs over the mouth of them, would then throw 
 the dirt back on the logs ; into these caves we could run when 
 in danger. One morning just at daylight, while we were 
 in line, the Federals opened with their mortars. We saw one 
 
WAR REMINISCENCES— 1862 to 1865 339 
 
 shell coming directly toward us and we ran into our caves 
 for safety. It struck the top, came through and exploded. 
 A fragment struck me on the head and knocked me senseless, 
 and wounded a comrade in the knee. I was sent back to the 
 brigade hospital and had my wound dressed. The next day 
 the comrade who was wounded at the same time as I, and 
 myself, were sent to the hospital at Richmond. He had his 
 leg amputated and died in a few days. I soon returned to 
 my command. The day after my return to the trenches I 
 was standing in the rear, issuing rations to the mess, when 
 a mortar shell burst so near that it burned my hair and re- 
 opened the wound on my head, which had not entirely healed. 
 All the time there was incessant cannonading going on, and 
 the sharpshooters were on the alert, so that scarcely an hour 
 passed that did not send someone into eternity or maim him 
 for life. I had several narrow escapes. Once I was stand- 
 ing up, holding the colors in my hand, when a fragment of a 
 shell cut the staff off just above my hand. Another time I 
 was coming down cemetery hill when a Federal sharpshooter, 
 at a distance of half a mile, fired at me, and the bullet went 
 through my left sleeve and slightly wounded my arm. 
 
 During the month of December the Federals had advanced 
 their picket line too near for our comfort, and arrangement 
 was made to undermine and blow them up. The mines were 
 duly dug and powder placed in position. One evening we 
 were ordered to man the works and when the mine exploded, 
 to raise a yell and pour a volley into their lines. We took 
 our position and in a short while we saw some trees in front 
 begin to tremble and waver, and then the ground was torn 
 up, throwing trees, rocks, and dirt high in the air. We raised 
 the Rebel yell, and poured volley after volley into their lines, 
 and at the same time all of our batteries opened on them. It 
 created a good deal of stir in their lines, but they still held 
 on to the picket line. This affair cost us the lives of a number 
 of our men. Failing in this, a few nights after, our com- 
 pany, and Co. A and Co. F of the regiment, were ordered to 
 take the line. I asked, and obtained, permission to go with 
 the company. About twelve o'clock that night we moved 
 out to our picket line and deployed as skirmishers. Our order 
 was to take the line at the point of the bayonet, and not to 
 
340 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 fire a gun. The line we were to attack was at the distance 
 of about one hundred yards, and to reach it, we had to pass 
 over an open piece of ground. There really was nothing to 
 prevent the enemy from discovering us. After a few minutes 
 delay the sign of advance was given, — a low whistle, — when 
 we, clambering out of our lines, moved on theirs, expecting 
 •every moment to receive their fire. To our great surprise 
 w^e reached their lines without being seen, and found only two 
 'of them awake, and they hovering over a little fire, and not 
 ■on the lookout. We' jumped into their lines and secured 
 thirty-five prisoners. We also captured a lot of plunder, 
 which was divided among the men. An officer's overcoat fell 
 to my lot, and proved to be of great service during the winter. 
 We had but two men injured in this attack. They mistook 
 each other for Yankees and grabbed, and in the struggle both 
 were slightly injured. 
 
 Just before Christmas we were moved to the right of the 
 railroad and just east of the Blanchard Cemetery. Near 
 our position was the old Blanchard church that was used by 
 Cornwallis as headquarters during the Revolutionary War. 
 In digging a covered way through a marsh, from our lines to 
 the rear, we dug up some cedar coffins ; an old negro said that 
 they were those of British soldiers. 
 
 Our brigade suffered a keen loss in the death of General 
 Gracie, who was killed on our lines by a shell, the same shot 
 killing four other officers. General Gracie was a brave and 
 gallant officer, and was greatly beloved by his men. 
 
 On March 21st we received orders and left the lines we 
 had held for nine months. On the morning of the 25th we 
 were aroused before daylight and were hurried out to the 
 entrenchments, where we found the enemy making demon- 
 strations for an attack. Shortly after our arrival on the line, 
 Co. C was ordered forward to hold the picket line. It was 
 during this fight that I shot at a Yankee officer, standing by 
 an old house looking at our lines through his field glass. 
 
 On the morning of the 29th we moved to the right on the 
 Quaker road, and occupied the trenches all the morning. The 
 undergrowth in the woods through which we moved was so 
 dense that we could not see ten steps ahead of us, and our 
 
WAR REMINISCENCES— 1862 to 1865 341 
 
 lines encountered those of the enemy unexpectedly. The 
 enemy fired first, killing several of our men, and then fell 
 back. We returned the fire, and followed them to the clear- 
 ing. We continued to follow them until they reached a little 
 rise in the ground, when they opened out, and we found our- 
 selves facing a battery of six guns and a line of infantry; 
 they poured a destructive fire into our ranks, and it seemed 
 as if none could escape, so terrific was their fire. Our loss 
 was dreadful, all caused by mismanagement on the part of 
 somebody. 
 
 On the morning of April 2d, we began our retreat in the 
 direction of Lynchburg, Va. We crossed the railroad at 
 Southerland Station, and drezv our last rations from the Con- 
 federate Government, six crackers and a small piece of meat 
 to each man. Although we had endured hardships before, 
 all were nothing in comparison with what we had to undergo 
 these six days. The enemy pressed us so hard that we had 
 to move all night, and could only get such sleep as we had 
 by dropping by the wayside, simply from exhaustion; and 
 our horses were dying from starvation. 
 
 On the evening of the 8th we arrived at Appomattox Court 
 House, and as the Yankees had been quiet all day, we had 
 hopes of reaching Lynchburg, when the sound of a cannon 
 destroyed these hopes. The morning of the 9th found Gen- 
 eral Sheridan, with a large force, directly across our path, 
 and General Gordon, to whose division ours had been at- 
 tached, received orders to attack him and open the way. In 
 this charge a battery of six guns was captured from the 
 enemy. We soon learned that General Lee had proposed, 
 and General Grant had accepted, the surrender of the Army 
 of Northern Virginia. 
 
 In the evening General Lee passed us to meet General 
 Grant, and arranged the terms of surrender. On his return 
 the men broke ranks, and crowded around him, bidding him 
 good-by. It was an affecting scene, never to be forgotten. 
 The next three days were spent in making out paroles of the 
 men, and on the morning of the 13th we formed for the last 
 time by regiment and brigade, and marching in front of Gib- 
 bon's Corps, stacked our arms and laid down our dear old 
 
342 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 colors. I started for home, and after a few days, I reached 
 there, and, thank God, the country was united again. The 
 following is a copy of my parole : 
 
 "Paroled Prisoner's Pass. 
 "Appomattox Court House, Virginia, 
 
 "April ID, 1865. 
 "The Bearer, Thos. A. Stinson, of Company C, 41st Ala. 
 Reg., of Moody Brigade, a paroled prisoner of the Army of 
 Northern Virginia, has permission to go to his home, and 
 there remain undisturbed. 
 
 "J. V. Wilson, 2d Lieut., Co. C, 
 
 "41st Alabama Reg." 
 
PIEDMONT, VA., JUNE 5, 1864 
 
 By William W. Stringfield, Lieutenant Colonel, 69TH 
 North Carolina Troops 
 
 At Piedmont, or New Hope, Va., near Staunton, on June 
 5, 1864, our troops met with a sad and almost disastrous 
 defeat under Major General William E. Jones by Major Gen- 
 eral Hunter of the Union army. Jones had only 5000 to 
 6000 troops; Hunter had 18,000 or more. Hunter had al- 
 most a triumphant march up the valley, with only four or five 
 skeleton regiments to oppose him. These regiments had but 
 400 or 500 men each. General Jones had been for six months 
 in the successful defense of Southwest Virginia, when he 
 was moved to the valley of Virginia to confront General 
 Hunter in his triumphal march toward Lynchburg. Jones 
 did all that mortal man could do to head off Hunter, and, 
 but for his untimely death, in the terrific assault upon our 
 lines, front and flank, at about 3 130 or 4 P. M. with rein- 
 forcements of 6000 men, we would have defeated the 12,000, 
 already four times repulsed in our front, in the forenoon. 
 
 Jones practically threw his life away by madly riding be- 
 tween our lines and a now victorious enemy. He and his 
 horse were both killed in a futile effort to check Averill and 
 Crook's fresh troops, 6000 or 7000 strong, with only about 
 1000 of our men at that point against them. 
 
 The Federals, seeing their advantage, rushed forward im- 
 petuously and took our works, only a thin rail fence. A sharp- 
 shooter rushed upon me, demanding my surrender and shoot- 
 ing at the same time. His shot cut off a lock of my hair, 
 burning my ear and cutting away the cape to my overcoat. I 
 at once ordered the retreat of my men, back toward the Shen- 
 andoah River, and was aiding in the escape of Captain Jule 
 
 343 
 
344 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 Welch, who, two or three minutes later, was killed in my 
 arms. 
 
 The enemy gave us a respite for a few moments, and under 
 orders from Colonel James R. Lorer, of my regiment, I gath- 
 ered twenty-three men as a rear guard and rapidly followed 
 our retreating army into, and out of, the valley turnpike 
 road. In half an hour or less, the New York cavalry came 
 headlong out the lane, the front troopers dashing on toward 
 our wagon train and artillery, the latter limbering and whirl- 
 ing into action at once. Soon, with grape and canister, with 
 deadly effect, the lane was blocked up with dead and wounded 
 men and horses. In the meanwhile the troopers in the lane 
 opposite me singled me out and emptied their carbines at me, 
 also their Colt's revolvers. I returned all their compliments 
 in kind, killing one and the horse of another, shooting the 
 man through the leg. He was slow and sullen in obeying my 
 orders after his comrades had fallen back and I had to knock 
 him down with my sword to make him obey. After that 
 they made no further pursuit of us. 
 
 This was the beginning of Early's valley campaign, lead- 
 ing us up and down the valley and around by Washington, 
 D. C, Shepherdstown, Martinsburg, Winchester, etc. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A BUMMER* 
 By Charles E. Belknap,, U. S. Volunteers 
 
 When Sherman's army moved out of the city at Atlanta, 
 Ga., November i6, 1864, the term "Bummer" had not been 
 coined; and a few days later, when it came into existence as 
 a term or name, was applied only to those details from regi- 
 ments and brigades whose duty it was to gather in the 
 "forage" of the country passed through, for the subsistence 
 of the men and animals that made up the army. There was a 
 limited supply of food in the trains of each corps and in the 
 haversacks of the men, but we were to take no chances on 
 its holding out until another "base of supplies" could be 
 reached. 
 
 The writer that fall was eighteen years of age, with more 
 than two years of active service to his credit, from the rank 
 of private to that of captain. During the preceding years 
 there had been some opportunities to forage from the plan- 
 tations of Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, and Georgia. In 
 a sort of mild and genteel way, pigs and chickens had been 
 chased about the farms and surreptitiously inveigled into 
 camp, to the great scandal of regimental, brigade, and division 
 commanders; but now had come the time when the men 
 were commanded not only to chase the chickens and pigs, but 
 the cows and sheep as well. Everything on foot and wing, 
 all things of the earth and air, were "contraband of war." 
 
 The first day out, details of men were made out of each 
 regiment "to go out foraging," each under command of a 
 lieutenant or captain, each acting independently of the other. 
 
 ♦Kindly loaned by Colonel Tweedale, U. S. A., Recorder of the 
 District of Columbia Commandery, Loyal Legion. 
 
 345 
 
346 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 There was but little left to forage in the country about At- 
 lanta. Many of these men were physically and morally unfit 
 for the duty. Two, three, and often more of these small 
 independent parties came together about the cabin of a pov- 
 erty-stricken "cracker," and the combats that ensued for the 
 possession of the live stock, mostly "mountain shad," threat- 
 ened for the time being to destroy the brotherly love said to 
 exist between the various regiments of the army. If a rich 
 find was made, the men were loaded with all they could 
 carry, and the torch did away with the balance, to the great 
 distress of those who got in a few moments later. Then 
 again these small parties were not made up to fight, and when 
 half a dozen of "Wheeler's Critterbacks" got after them, all 
 the foragers of the corps took to the woods for safety; in their 
 wild flight chickens were left orphans by the wayside. Hams, 
 pickles, preserves and honey were cast aside with reckless 
 prodigality, and the detailed forager found the way to his 
 command two or three days later with harrowing tales of 
 hairbreadth escapes. He usually brought in his gun and 
 cartridges, but was minus the good hardtack and coffee that 
 filled his haversack when he went out with the squad. 
 
 The writer's detail had just this experience the second day 
 out of Atlanta. That night a conference was held at brigade 
 headquarters and orders went out for a brigade detail the 
 next day. Thirty men volunteered from each of the three 
 regiments of the brigade, each under command of a lieuten- 
 ant, all under command of a captain. To this command I 
 was assigned and held until the surrender of Johnston's army 
 in 1865. 
 
 The brigade detail was made up that night, and left camp 
 before daylight the next morning, nearly every man well 
 mounted. It was well that they got away so early, as very 
 few of them could show good title to the animal he rode, but 
 as there was a great deal of swapping and trading horses and 
 mules that day, about every man came back to the command 
 with a clear conscience. This was the first brigade of organ- 
 ized foragers, and their success in many lines soon led to 
 other organizations throughout the army. 
 
 I do not remember hearing the term "Bummer" applied 
 to these men until just before the capture of Savannah, and 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A BUMMER 347 
 
 then as a "Boomer," from the ahnost constant booming of 
 the enemy's guns as they were harassed on all sides, either 
 by the foragers of Kilpatrick's cavalry — but pardon the 
 digression. 
 
 The ninety men and their lieutenants that made up the 
 command were tried and true. If one was killed or wounded, 
 which was often the case, another volunteer was called from 
 the regiments, and in all cases the details were kept full. 
 
 After the first day there was but little trouble in keeping 
 the command well mounted, and forage being plenty a return 
 was made to the command each night; but in many of the 
 sparsely settled sections of the country it was two or three 
 days before a load could be gathered up, the detail often 
 going fifty miles away upon the flanks. Skirmishing with 
 parties of cavalry and "Home guards" was of hourly occur- 
 rence, and the word went out from Wheeler's command, 
 "Death to all foragers." Eleven of the foragers were cap- 
 tured one day and all shot, their bodies being placed in a row 
 by the roadside, that all passing that way might see them and 
 take warning. This did not stop the foraging, but had the 
 effect of weeding out of the commands the less courageous 
 men, and the filling of their places with a more determined 
 lot. 
 
 The space of this article will permit only a few of the 
 many interesting adventures of the detail which I commanded; 
 to write them all would make a book of comedy and tragedy — • 
 a book, alternate pages, mirth and sorrow; to-day a feast, 
 yesterday a famine ; to dine on broiled chicken and turkey, to 
 sup on soup of nigger peas; to-day with victorious shouts 
 driving the enemy away from mill or roadway bridges, to- 
 night gathered about a shallow grave in the piney woods 
 where, with his blanket for his coffin, we fill in the place with 
 moss and drop the parting tear to a comrade brave and true. 
 
 Out upon the flanks one day a party of Wheeler's men 
 were found ; they, too, were foraging — had their animals well 
 loaded with all sorts of plunder, useful and ornamental. "We 
 rushed them," to use a modern term, capturing the outfit, tak- 
 ing a rich prize to camp that night. 
 
 One day, we were well out in front of the army, when 
 from around a bend in the road came the sounds of a 
 
348 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 man's voice in prayer. The advance guard moved quietly 
 forward until he came in sight of a black man kneeling by 
 the roots of a pine tree v^^ith uplifted hands and face. He 
 was asking God for freedom from his bondage, praying to be 
 guided to the Union army, and the voice of his devotion filled 
 our hearts with a strange emotion, for his tones by turns 
 were sad, then sweetly solemn, then wildly glad, as he prayed 
 for the white folks, his master and mistress, to whom all 
 things were bright and fair, to whom all things were pure 
 and free; then for his race, upon whom the "curse of Cain 
 had fallen like a flail on garnered grain," and struck them 
 to the earth. Then echoed through the woods prayers that 
 God might guide the Union army safely through all dangers, 
 and "on dis berry road, Lord." The advancing tramp of 
 horses' feet caused him to open his eyes when they were 
 almost upon him. His surprise was so great that for a mo- 
 ment he was speechless. Then he fairly yelled with delight, 
 his prayers were answered. The Lord had sent us specially 
 for his deliverance. In reply to my questions, he said, 'T'se 
 only a runaway nigger, an' days an' nights in de dark woods 
 an' dismal swamps I've skulked and hidden away, and I've 
 seen de fires ob de midnight camps, an' heard many times de 
 patrol's tramp, an' de bloodhound's savage bay; but now I'se 
 free ; I dun gib ole massa de slip, an' I'se gwine wid you- 
 alls." 
 
 In the years before the war nearly every plantation had 
 its pack of hounds for tracking runaway slaves. During the 
 war these hounds were often used to track the Union soldiers 
 who were lucky enough to escape from Rebel prisons. Many 
 a luckless fellow has been freed and re-captured by the use of 
 these dogs. The foragers never spared any of them, but 
 killed them at sight. 
 
 One day we passed a lot of cabins; in the doorway of one 
 of them, some distance from the road, stood an aged negro, 
 so old his hair was white as snow. Between his legs there 
 crowded a large dog; probably neither dog nor man had 
 ever set eyes on a blue-coated soldier before, and both seemed 
 dumb with surprise. A soldier, quick to see the dog, raised 
 his gun and fired. The dog yelped once, the man dropped 
 upon the animal in the doorway and yelled a dozen times. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A BUMMER 349 
 
 Hearing the noise, I hurried to the spot, and asked, "Who 
 fired that gun?" No one could tell. Going to the cabin I 
 helped the colored brother up and found the dead dog. "Who 
 killed the dog?" I inquired. "Don't know," said one of the 
 soldiers, "but I guess the nigger fell on him." 
 
 That same day the "Bummers" captured a plantation rich 
 in chickens and other useful articles. When the men were 
 busy twisting the necks off the chickens and gathering eggs, 
 a troop of Wheeler's men came down on us like a whirlwind, 
 and drove the boys to the shelter of the woods near by. Then 
 hasty preparations were made for a fight that was sure to 
 come for the possession of the place. "The lady of the house" 
 came out and offered her help to whip the Yankees. The 
 Confederate officer told her that was right. "If you want to 
 help us, get up there on that fence and holler at them and 
 dare them to come out for a fair fight." She got upon "the 
 top rail" and shaking her fist, shouted, "Oh, you miiserable 
 Yankees. You have taken every chicken on the place." 
 "What's that!" said the Confederate, "taken all the chickens? 
 Then there's nothing left worth fighting for." And he called 
 his men out of the fence corners and rode away, leaving the 
 woman on top of the fence, so busy calling names and shak- 
 ing fists she did not notice his absence until the "miserable 
 Yankees" returned to gather up the odds and ends so hur- 
 riedly left. 
 
 But a few days out of Atlanta, in a sandy, poverty-stricken 
 region, a very thinly populated district, miles away to the left 
 of the route followed by that wing of the army, we found in 
 a small log cabin two wee bits of girls, one about three, the 
 other five years old, the only living objects about the place. 
 In the cabin were a few rude housekeeping articles, — a bed in 
 one corner that would not tempt a soldier out of a horse 
 stable as a sleeping place, and a bake kettle, a few gourds and 
 a home-made "piggin," were about all to forage on. The 
 little ones, so nearly dead of starvation and neglect, could tell 
 us nothing, only "Mamma gone, mamma gone." Clothed in 
 nothing but thin cotton dresses, black with dirt and grease, no 
 underclothing, their little bare legs and arms were so grimed 
 with dirt that at first we thought them "darkies." 
 
 The little cotton dresses were but bags with a hole left for 
 
350 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 arms and neck. They were as shy as young partridges, but 
 food soon won their confidence. A search was made all about 
 the premises for other living beings, but the little ones were 
 absolutely alone, but for the birds that chirped about in the 
 tree-tops near by. The command halted to feed and rest 
 their animals, a fire was built on the hearth and the babies 
 given a bath with warm water, and fed on soldiers' grub; 
 their flaxen hair was combed, and well washed, and they were 
 as pretty a capture as ever made by the "Bummers Bold." 
 
 Resuming our march we tried to give them away at the 
 next cabin a few miles on our route, but that would not work 
 — the woman had a house full of her own. She knew noth- 
 ing about these two, and so half a dozen places were visited, 
 but with war's desolation in the country, none could be found 
 to care for these motherless girls. But before night the Bum- 
 mers had a wardrobe for them worthy of the command, a 
 piece here and there as the cabins were passed, were bor- 
 rowed. Before the night camp was reached, a soldier who 
 had babies of his own in Michigan removed the dirty cotton 
 gowns, and clothed them with the plunder of the afternoon. 
 They were ''just too sweet for anything." They were mounted 
 on a pack mule that day; at night they slept cuddled up in a 
 soldier's arms. The rain dripped down through the pine trees 
 drenching the blankets of the tentless soldiers, but the little 
 ones were as comfortable as "bugs in a rug." These two sis- 
 ters were turned over to the regiment the next day; by turns 
 they were toted on the backs of the soldiers to Savannah. 
 The authorities of the city were notified, but nobody had time 
 for "the little white trash." A lieutenant, wounded and sick, 
 was granted a furlough; he took them home to his State, 
 where they reside to-day in happy homes, beautiful in their 
 motherhood. Although diligent search was made after the 
 war, the mystery was never solved. They are simply two of 
 "Sherman's Bummers." 
 
 At one place in North Carolina the Bummers found the 
 hiding place of 200 good mules and a lot of horses, but so 
 situated that a reserve force to guard communications was 
 needed. The information was detailed to General Carlin, 
 who sent a regiment of infantry to assist. There were two 
 streams to cross, the Haw River by a scow ferry, a deep and 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A BUMMER 351 
 
 rapid stream, and then some distance on the New River, by a 
 foot bridge. Between the two streams was a good sized town 
 full of "liquid supplies." Up the country between the two 
 streams was Hampton's cavalry, beyond the New River a few 
 miles were the coveted mules — a supply depot guarded by 
 convalescents, about twenty-five miles from General Carlin's 
 camp. The Bummers crossed the Haw on the scows, swim- 
 ming their horses, left a small guard as a lookout in the town, 
 passed on over the New River and surprised the supply camp, 
 getting all of the stock away safely, but followed closely by 
 the enemy. 
 
 Crossing the bridge it was burned, and we were compara- 
 tively safe from that quarter, but in the town we "met up with 
 a circus." 
 
 The regiment, under command of a major, had safely 
 crossed the Haw on the scow ferry, having nothing else just 
 then to do, accepted the hospitalities of the people, and from 
 major to ambulance driver were howling full of apple-jack. 
 But the boys all claimed it was persimmon beer that threw 
 down the chaplain. A regiment, 300 strong, drunk in a 
 hostile town, a deep and rapid stream, a scow ferry, camp 
 twenty-five miles beyond; Hampton's men coming down the 
 neck, guided by the hospitable mayor of the town, who was 
 quick to see a joke! But it was here the Bummer showed his 
 loyalty to comrades in distress. The totally disabled were 
 loaded into wagons, tied upon mules and horses, and in 
 various ways taken to the ferry, where we, by constant pas- 
 sages and swimming animals succeeded in getting all across. 
 Scattering shot from Hampton's troopers hurried the rear 
 guard in the last hour of their trying duties. Once across the 
 stream, the regiment was left to take care of itself. The cap- 
 tured animals were of the greatest value to the division trains. 
 It is said that that regiment did not all get back to the division 
 for three days. The major's saber dangled from the tent 
 pole of the division commander for a time; then came the 
 end of the war, and all errors of judgment were forgotten. 
 A few days before this last occurrence, while hunting the 
 pine barrens for "nubbins of corn," things got very interesting 
 for the Bummers. Forage was very scarce and the enemy 
 very plentiful. One of the men, a daring, dashing fellow, fell 
 
352 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 behind the command. In coming up he missed the road and 
 followed the road to the left, that led him suddenly into a 
 company of Dibbrell's command. Too late to retreat, he 
 charged single-handed among them, using his Colt's revolving 
 rifle with deadly effect. The enemy gave him a volley, four 
 bullets hitting him ; then a trooper gave him a cut on the head 
 with his saber, unhorsing him. They stopped long enough 
 to take his outfit and left him for dead in the woods. That 
 evening, while the command was grinding corn at a small wet 
 day mill, a woman came in telling us of the occurrence. With 
 a couple of men and a horse I followed the woman two or 
 three miles through the woods to the place, and found the 
 man not dead, but very near it. W^e placed him on the horse, 
 and giving the woman a roll of money (Confederate) went 
 back to the mill. That man was carried in an ambulance sev- 
 eral days, and is living to-day, although badly crippled. 
 
 The day after this occurrence one of the lieutenants of the 
 command was ambushed and killed; not being satisfied with 
 filling him full of lead, they put a trail rope about his neck 
 and pulled him up over the limb of a roadside tree, where we 
 found him. We followed the trail and squared accounts 
 that night. It was a most uncomfortable night, the rain com- 
 ing down in a ceaseless pour. We had been out on the flanks 
 all day in the worst sort of luck — not enough food in the 
 country to feed a crow. Men and animals were tired out, 
 and lost. We followed a black streak through the forest, a 
 trail of mud, quicksand, and water. Where the road led, I 
 neither knew nor cared, so long as it led to a place of shelter 
 for the night, which to our tired animals it seemed we would 
 never find. A faint light in the far distance finally led us 
 out of the forest and to a group of cabins and the master's 
 house. The cabins were deserted, except by one old bed- 
 ridden negro; they had gone "to jine the army." The light 
 was from the "great house" — a faint glimmer of a fire upon 
 the hearth. The men soon found dry places for themselves 
 and animals ; one man was placed on the road to "watch for 
 sounds," and I went to the great house thinking I might get 
 a chance to sleep and dry my clothing before the fire. To my 
 tap on the door came a faint response, "Come in." Opening 
 the door I passed through a hallway into a large, well-fur- 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A BUMMER 353 
 
 nished room. Before the fire sat a woman, whose face in 
 the dim glimmer of pine knots on the hearth was ghastly, a 
 face of mingled fear and pain. I quickly doffed my water- 
 soaked hat and great coat and said : "Madam, by your per- 
 mission I will build up a fire. I am very wet and cold." The 
 fire of pine knots quickly flashed up, lighting the room in 
 seeming defiance of the rain and gloom outside. "Oh, sir, I 
 see you are not one of our folks. You are a Federal soldier." 
 *'I am, madam, a captain of Sherman's army. I do not want 
 to intrude, but with your permission we will sit here before 
 the fire. My men are in the negro quarters for the night. 
 Where are your people?" "Oh, sir, my husband is in Lee's 
 army, but dead or alive I don't know. It is weeks since I 
 heard from him, and the servants and field hands have all 
 gone like a lot of crazy children. They gathered a few 
 articles of food and clothing and have gone to Sherman's 
 army, but, sir, I know you are a friend." Then she said some 
 things in a delicate way, that young and green as I was, I 
 could not help but understand. "Is there a neighbor near?" 
 "Yes, two miles away. A good woman who would come to 
 me if she knew." 
 
 Going out to the cabins where great fires were burning in 
 the chimneys, the men drying themselves out, I found one of 
 my men who had a wife and babies in Michigan. I quickly 
 told him all and sent him into the house. Then I saddled 
 my horse, found a side-saddle in the barn, and put that on 
 another animal, then with one of the Bummers for company, 
 started up the plantation road to find the neighbor. That was 
 the longest two miles I ever traveled, and finally we were wel- 
 comed by a pack of howling, barking dogs, that snarled and 
 snapped at us from side, front, and rear. With a piece of 
 fence rail I drove them away and held a parley with the 
 woman inside, who at first said it was "a dirty Yankee trick 
 to entice a lone woman away to destruction." 
 
 Several arguments were used, mingled in with some cuss 
 words on the part of the soldier with me, which persuaded 
 her to come along. The return trip was made at a good pace, 
 our fair prize scolding and crying by turns until we pulled 
 up at the great house again. Lew had a roaring fire on the 
 great open hearth. A pot of old government Java was steam- 
 
354 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 ing on the coals. Lew and the new arrival held a council of 
 war, and I put up my horse and lay down long after mid- 
 night, before a fire in one of the cabins to sleep, drenched to 
 the skin, aching in every joint, wondering what would be the 
 Bummer's lot the next day. 
 
 Going to the house next morning, Lew, the Bummer, sat 
 before the fire with a bundle in his arms, singing in a lullaby 
 sort of voice: 
 
 "I'm a raw recruit, in a brand new suit, 
 
 Nine hundred dollars bounty; 
 And I've come down from the tar-heel town, 
 To fight for North Caroliny." 
 
 Far sweeter than the notes of the song-birds was the 
 sound that came from the recruit in response to the song of 
 the grizzled old soldier, who, with tears in his manly eyes, 
 was thinking of the wife and babies in far-away Michigan, 
 whom he had not seen in nearly three long weary years of 
 war. 
 
 Some one has said that "babies are the flowers of hope 
 that grow upon the trellis of our hearts." 
 
 We christened that one with a canteen of apple jack, and 
 named him Billy Sherman, and took for our reward the family 
 carriage loaded with dead pigs, some corn and chickens, and 
 other things necessary to the conduct of the army. 
 
 From the major general commanding the Department of 
 Virginia at the close of the war I received the following ac- 
 count of the first soldiers of Sherman's army to reach Wash- 
 ington at the close of the war. The country about Washing- 
 ton was full of stragglers and thieves, men of both armies. 
 One morning early two men put in an appearance on the main 
 highway from Richmond. They were splendidly mounted 
 on horses, well fagged out, dashing young fellows, armed to 
 kill, bronzed, tanned, ragged. 
 
 The guard brought them to a halt. "Who are you ?" "We 
 are the advance of Sherman's army on the way to Washing- 
 ton and home." 
 
 They were taken to headquarters, where the general said: 
 "How is it you are here while the army has not yet reached 
 Richmond?" 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A BUMMER 355 
 
 "Well, you see, general, we have made it our business to 
 keep in the front; that's how it is." In spite of their protests 
 they were taken to the guardhouse and kept until the army 
 arrived two weeks later. They had started the day Johnston 
 surrendered, six days before, passing to the west of Richmond 
 to avoid complications. Their outfit was returned to them 
 after their release, with an apology. 
 
 It is to be regretted that the names and regiments of these 
 two men are not known. It was but a fair illustration of the 
 enterprise of Sherman's Bummers. 
 
PERSONAL EXPERIENCES IN THE VOLUNTEER 
 NAVY DURING THE CIVIL WAR* 
 
 By Acting Ensign Joseph M, Simms, U. S. Navy 
 
 I AM to relate something of Fort Fisher and my personal 
 experience, and of the fall of the fort, as well as of the rela- 
 tion it bore to the final collapse of the Southern Confederacy. 
 
 There was at the northern entrance of the Cape Fear River 
 a strong line of earthworks, 2580 yards in length — a land 
 face of 682 yards and a sea face of 1898 yards — both faces 
 bearing upon the sea. 
 
 Fort Fisher was considered the strongest fortress of the 
 sort in the world, and was pronounced impregnable. The 
 works were constructed under the supervision of General Wil- 
 liam N. C. Whiting, of North Carolina, who graduated from 
 West Point in 1845, sixteen years before his State seceded 
 from the Union. 
 
 On December 24 and 25, 1864, there were, according to 
 Colonel Lamb's own statement, forty-four heavy guns brought 
 into action. 
 
 Lieutenant Commander K. Randolph Breese, the admiral's 
 fleet captain, had the command on shore, and Lieutenant Com- 
 mander James Parker, the Minnesota's executive officer, led 
 in the assault upon the fort, and I was at his side. From 
 October 12, 1864, when Admiral Porter assumed command, 
 up to the time we went to the coast to attack the fortifications 
 at Cape Fear, for which the army and navy had been so long 
 planning, there were calls for all sorts of boat expeditions 
 where there was extra risk of life. 
 
 * This paper was read before the District of Columbia Commandery 
 of the Loyal Legion and has been given for this book through the kind- 
 ness of its Recorder, Colonel John Tweedale, U. S. A. 
 
 356 
 
PERSONAL EXPERIENCES, ETC. 357 
 
 Now comes the great change for our squadron — "hurry 
 scurry," and the final move for the large fleet of ships. It 
 was: "On to Fort Fisher." 
 
 A great number of men were transferred to us from 
 the army of the James at this time, and both officers and 
 enlisted men were kept pretty busy drilling at the great guns 
 from early morning until night, and as the men became profi- 
 cient in great gun drill, many of them were distributed among 
 the vessels of the squadron which was soon to move. 
 
 On October 30, 1864, the monitor Monadnock arrived at 
 Hampton Roads. This was the monitor which Admiral 
 Porter had, in his report, after the first attack upon Fort 
 Fisher, said "could go to any part of the world and fight." 
 
 According to a statement of the Secretary of the Navy to 
 the President, there were 150 vessels ready for attack upon 
 Fort Fisher on October 15, 1864. 
 
 At that time the greater number of ships were at or near 
 Hampton Roads and off the North Carolina coast in the 
 vicinity of Cape Fear. 
 
 Admiral Porter had placed his ships under divisional lead- 
 ers. Our ship, the Minnesota, was to lead into action the 
 second division and was to be the leading ship, to follow the 
 monitors and ironclads. 
 
 It was now generally known that General Bragg, of the 
 Confederate Army, had gone from Richmond, Va., to Wil- 
 mington, N. C, in anticipation of an attack in that quarter. 
 At this time the Confederate torpedo arrangements on the 
 James River were keeping our vessels there very busy; also 
 there were elaborate plans on foot in that wholesale method 
 of destroying life at the approaches to the Cape Fear forti- 
 fications. 
 
 The Confederates were now really forced to desperation, 
 for they could build no more ships, as iron was not obtainable ; 
 all timber to be had was in their forests, and it must be hewn 
 out from the trees. 
 
 Our capture of prizes, valuable ones at that, was progress- 
 ing rapidly. We were in this way acquiring, almost daily, 
 good, swift, Clyde-built vessels, while the Confederates and 
 their friends across the Atlantic were losing their ships and 
 money. 
 
358 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 In fourteen months, under Acting Rear Admiral S. P. Lee, 
 we had captured fifty-two ocean steamers ; and really it would 
 seem as if there was nothing left for those gallant men of the 
 South to do but fight to the death, or at once abandon all hope 
 of ever establishing a government to their own liking. 
 
 In November, 1864, a little over a month before the bom- 
 bardment of Fort Fisher, our ships captured the 900- ton 
 blockade-runner Lady Sterling of Wilmington ; it was her 
 first trip, bound out with nearly a thousand bales of cotton 
 and three tons of tobacco. That vessel had carried into Wil- 
 mington a \'aluable cargo. 
 
 The Lady Sterling cost $250,000, and her outward cargo 
 of cotton and tobacco was worth about $400,000 more. 
 
 This was only one of the many valuable English-built ves- 
 sels with valuable cargoes that were being lost to the then 
 weakened Confederate cause. 
 
 Preparations for operations on a large scale went steadily 
 along, and by December ist it was whispered among the 
 ofiicers at the Roads that the garrison at Fort Fisher was to 
 be paralyzed by the explosion of a mammoth torpedo, or a 
 ship loaded with powder, and that all of the guns of the fort 
 would certainly be dismounted. 
 
 Although there were many of us who regarded that report 
 as a yarn only, yet, as it turned out, much of it came to pass. 
 There was, however, no garrison paralyzed, nor were any- 
 body's guns dismounted by the explosion of, some say 285, 
 some 300, and others 215 tons of powder in the steamer 
 Louisiana. 
 
 On December 13th, at about 10 A. M., the powder ship 
 Louisiana passed under our stern and out of the capes of 
 Chesapeake Bay, in tow of the U. S. steamer Sassacus, bound 
 for Cape Fear, to rattle Fort Fisher; and very soon we were 
 all heading out for sea in the same direction. Such a gathering 
 of armed ships had never before been seen. 
 
 As we proceeded along the coast it was evident that the 
 greatest event as yet known to our navy was near at hand, 
 and that the Confederates would likely soon lose their strong- 
 hold. 
 
 At 3 :30 P. M. December 19th, the Minnesota anchored off 
 Fort Fisher. 
 
PERSONAL EXPERIENCES, ETC. 359 
 
 We were to watch for signals from the flagship, and when 
 ordered to take position the Minnesota was to go ahead slowly 
 and anchor about one mile from the fort. 
 
 December 23d, a blockade-runner got in past our fleet at 
 high tide. One of our soldier-sailors remarked : "I'll bet that 
 Mrs. Tyler is on that steamer returning from Nassau." He 
 then chuckled, and said: "I was on the steamer when Mrs. 
 Tyler took passage for Nassau out from Wilmington, and 
 heard it then said that she would return before Christmas." 
 So we really had as one of our crew to battle with Fort Fisher 
 a man who had been engaged in running supplies to the enemy 
 and who was on a vessel that ex-President Tyler's widow 
 went out from Wilmington to Nassau on board of. This 
 man had been captured running the blockade, and was sent 
 North on our prize, and instead of doing as others did — go to 
 Halifax and re-engage for a run — he joined our volunteer 
 army for pay as a substitute. 
 
 December 24th, at 5 :i5 A. M., the Minnesota, 48 guns, got 
 under way and stood toward Fort Fisher, and anchored in 
 line of battle 2100 yards distant from the fort. Weather 
 fine, sea smooth, with light southerly breeze. At 12 noon beat 
 to quarters for action. Our noon meal was hardtack and 
 cofTee which was passed up from the fireroom, all other fires 
 being put out. 
 
 At about I P. M. the New Ironsides and monitors alone 
 opened fire upon the enemy's works; we were now just one 
 mile east half north of the northeast angle of Fort Fisher, 
 with the "Mound" battery bearing southwest. 
 
 The batteries fired pretty lively at us ; their third and fifth 
 shots passed close over our deck, while our shells were being 
 hurled into the fort rapidly. Other large vessels of the fleet 
 were soon at it, and they all did some excellent work. 
 
 A fire broke out in the fort; this our masthead lookout 
 attributed to our ship's shell; a shot from the enemy cut the 
 spring on our cable ; at about three o'clock the flag on the fort 
 was shot away; the Minnesota's flying jib-stay, fore-royal and 
 fore-topgallant-stays were all shot away. The enemy were 
 now firing high. 
 
 The sailors at our guns, many of them, were stripped to 
 their waists, and were warming up to the work when, at 6 
 
36o THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 P. M., we withdrew from action, leaving a buoy to mark 
 anchorage six or seven miles northeast of the fort. 
 
 Into this day's fight the frigates Colorado, Minnesota, and 
 Wabash carried the largest number of guns of any of the ships 
 of the squadron. Total guns of their combined batteries num- 
 bered 146, being 52, 48, and 46 respectively. 
 
 When we consider that these were only three of the thirty- 
 seven ships that were hurling shot and shell at the Confederate 
 works, some idea can be formed as to what a hellish hot place 
 Federal Point must have been during the firing of our guns. 
 
 Christmas eve this : and what for to-morrow, which is 
 Sunday, and the anniversary of the One who came into the 
 world to save all mankind ; and on this day, in all probability, 
 we will be using our best efforts to kill our brothers, as well as 
 risking being launched into eternity. 
 
 "The bursting shell, the gateway rent asunder, 
 
 The rattling musketry, the clashing blade; 
 An ever and anon, in tones of thunder. 
 The diapason of the cannonade." 
 
 December 25th, Sunday and Christmas : At 9 130 A. M. the 
 big ship was again under way. At 10:45 the New Ironsides 
 began firing at Fort Fisher, then soon the monitors, all four 
 of them, opened fire very rapidly. The momentary lull for 
 our ship gave us the opportunity to witness the truly thunder- 
 ing, hellish rattle of a first-class bombardment by so many 
 ships with big guns, and now I do not wonder at the partial 
 deafness of so many of us who were there. 
 
 At about II :i5 A. M. the Minnesota was again at it, from 
 a new position, three hundred yards nearer the fort than yes- 
 terday. We had opened fire with our forward guns, and 
 when the anchor was down, with suitable scope of cable, the 
 men were stripped to the waists for battle, then the flagship 
 signaled "cease firing." 
 
 There was a slight grumble passed along the decks from gun 
 to gun. The men were permitted to lie down at quarters; 
 Commander Rhind came alongside and informed Commodore 
 Lanman that he had laced a buoy 1 50 to 200 yards nearer the 
 fort for us. Some of the crew, hearing that, wanted to cheer. 
 
 At I P. M. we were in the new position with a kedge anchor 
 
PERSONAL EXPERIENCES, ETC. 361 
 
 out astern and port-bower anchor down, and began firing by- 
 divisions at the fort, "Mound," and batteries. The first shot 
 from the enemy touched our main-stay, the next one struck 
 the ship below the water-Hne, and we hauled out the spanker 
 to steady the ship broadside to the enemy; just then a 30- 
 pounder shell came in through our midship port on the spar- 
 deck and went through one of the launches and the first cutter, 
 lodging in the stern-sheets of the latter boat. 
 
 At 2 o'clock hot cofi:ee was served to all hands. At 4 P. M. 
 we brailed up the spanker, and then a shell from the fort 
 exploded on our chain armor, starboard side. Although many 
 Confederate shells burst immediately over the decks of the 
 ship, scattering fragments to both sides, not one of them did 
 us any harm. 
 
 Soon after 4 P. M. the Confederate flag was shot away the 
 second time, and considering the fire of the monitors and all 
 of the largest wooden vessels at that time, the gallant enemy 
 held to their guns wonderfully well. 
 
 When the flag fell from the fort's northeast salient, the ships 
 ceased firing until 4 45 P. M. ; then we again opened fire more 
 rapidly than we had before, and the roar of the cannon was 
 something terrible. Every particle of flesh upon one's bones 
 seemed to be slipping off, eyes stinging, and we were almost 
 blinded by powder, smoke and refuse ; the guns and our cloth- 
 ing were almost white from saltpeter. 
 
 Several men at my gun, the ii-inch pivot, bled at the nose; 
 yet none of them flinched, but kept to their stations. 
 
 This day there were some pieces of shells imbedded in our 
 ship's hull, but as these were all above the water-line, they 
 were allowed to remain. 
 
 After sundown the stillness on board was almost as unbear- 
 able as had been the rapid flring and we preferred to keep at it 
 with the guns. 
 
 So ended our Christmas of 1864, and we had hurled shot 
 and shell enough at the Federal Point works to lay a cast-iron 
 pavement the entire circuit of its beach. 
 
 In the two days we fired 20,775 pounds of powder from the 
 ii-inch, 9-inch, loo-pounder, and 150-pounder guns on the 
 Minnesota alone. All projectiles fired were loaded and fused 
 shells, and the total number of them fired was 1982. 
 
362 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 Now if you will for one moment give it thought, it can 
 easily be realized, considering the number of ships that were 
 in the battle, what an enormous amount of cast iron was 
 hurled at the fortifications during the two days' bombardment. 
 
 In the two days the whole fleet fired 20,271 projectiles at 
 the Confederate works, which fired at our ships 1390 pro- 
 jectiles. 
 
 Colonel Lamb's garrison on Christmas day was 1371 
 officers, soldiers, and sailors. There were only 63 of them 
 killed and wounded; five of his gun-carriages were disabled, 
 and two of his 7-inch Brook guns burst in firing. 
 
 As the Minnesota's position was, on the 25th, so close to 
 the fort, our firing told more effectively, and we could plainly 
 see that our shells were knocking the lines of the fort's ram- 
 parts into all manner of shapes, as well as the batteries along 
 the sea face. 
 
 December 26th and 27th our magazines and shell-rooms 
 were refilled from ordnance schooners, using five of the ship's 
 boats for that purpose. 
 
 It was now quite evident that the army had failed to get 
 possession of Fort Fisher, for on the 27th the troops that had 
 been landed to battle with the Confederates were, the most of 
 them, taken on board of the army transports, and at once 
 started northward; the troops that were left upon the beach 
 were soon afterward taken off by our ship's boats. As the 
 sun was setting on the 28th, almost all the squadron, all, 
 except the regular blockaders, were under way and standing 
 to the northward to ride out a storm, off the bar, or in the 
 "bight" near Beaufort, N. C. 
 
 The monitors and other light-draft vessels went into the 
 harbor, while all of the larger ships for about 48 to 50 hours 
 rode out one of the heaviest gales that was ever witnessed. 
 
 Colonel Lamb stated in his official report, made after we 
 left Cape Fear : "I am unable to know what damage was done 
 them (our ships), but I am certain the injury inflicted upon 
 them far exceeds the injury their bombardment did us. Our 
 Heavenly Father has protected my garrison this day, and I 
 feel that Fle will sustain us in defending our homes from the 
 invader." 
 
PERSONAL EXPERIENCES, ETC. 363 
 
 During the heavy gale the Juniata and several other ships 
 had to sHp and heave-to at sea throughout the storm, but they 
 all came through it and got back to anchorage without other 
 loss than a few anchors. 
 
 We spent two weeks off Beaufort, and were then, on January 
 12, 1865, made happy by the sound of "calls" of the boatswain 
 and his mates, summoning all hands up anchor. 
 
 The whole fleet was now on the move, with General Alfred 
 Terry and his transports loaded with troops. 
 
 At about 5 A. M., January 13th, we stood in toward the 
 fort, and anchored in close line of battle, one ship's length 
 ahead of the Brooklyn. At 8:30 A. M. commenced shelling 
 the woods north of Fort Fisher, firing slowly. We were now 
 800 yards from the beach, with the frigate Colorado off our 
 port quarter. 
 
 Eleven of our boats were gotten out, and there was a race 
 with the boats from all of the ships for the army transports, 
 in our effort to make the first landing with troops. 
 
 At about 9 A. M. the ships all ceased firing, and in about five 
 and a half hours we had landed 8500 soldiers, some mules, 
 field guns, intrenching tools, hard bread for six days, and some 
 ammunition. 
 
 By 5 :20 P. M. the Minnesota was in a new position, about 
 1600 yards from the fort, east by north of its northeast 
 salient. We opened fire. 
 
 The sky was clear, air balmy, and as the sun went down, 
 casting the shadows of the fort and batteries seaward, the 
 somber hues in purple and dark grays softened and blended 
 into the brilliant sun-tint upon the edges of the battle smoke ; 
 it was a sight once seen never to be forgotten. 
 
 Up to 6 P. M. this day, January 13th, the Minnesota and 
 other ships put in eft'ective shots. Ours were 11 -inch, 9-inch, 
 and 150-pounder shells. Then we retired about 7 P. M. from 
 the fight, and anchored two or three miles off shore, while the 
 Neiv Ironsides and monitors held to their positions for next 
 day's battle. 
 
 At about 4 A. M., on Sunday, January 15, 1865, ^11 hands 
 were called. "Up anchor." We stood inshore, and at 7:30 
 got out all boats, and sent them with picks and spades to the 
 shore, for the use of intrenching parties. 
 
364 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 Companies were made up, equipped and then dismissed with 
 orders to "stand by for a call." 
 
 The whole crew were willing to go, and appeared anxious 
 to finish the job. As it was, many of the firemen and coal 
 passers went with us. 
 
 We were then called to quarters, and at 9 115 A. M. the Min- 
 nesota alone was signaled to proceed and take position. We 
 were so close this time (withm 1400 yards) to the fort that 
 the enemy could be seen at work preparing to give us the best 
 there was left in their battered works. 
 
 We were ordered to fire by divisions and dismount the guns 
 on Fort Fisher. The ship now lay at a kedge anchor and a 
 spring-line made fast to the Nezv Ironsides, when a lively firing 
 was opened upon the works from our 11 -inch pivot, gun-deck 
 batteries and the 150-pounder alternatively. After the fire 
 from the gun-deck divisions, the enemy ceased firing. 
 
 At 10 A. M. orders were given, "Prepare to land." There 
 were many small personal matters attended to hurriedly; 
 letters, with last words added to them, were passed over for 
 mailing ; also there were sailors' trinkets and keepsakes left, to 
 be forwarded by shipmates who were to remain on board, to 
 kindred of those who might fall in battle. 
 
 As we were leaving the ship at eleven o'clock, officers and 
 crew remaining on board gave us three cheers. The whole 
 fleet appeared now to open fire upon the enemy's works ; pieces 
 of shell, tin straps and sabots of the shells from our vessels, 
 together with shot and shell from shore batteries, came splash- 
 ing and whistling among our boats. 
 
 All of the men who were transferred to our ship from the 
 army v^'cre given Sharp's rifles, while the older members of 
 the crew were armed with cutlasses and revolvers. We were 
 all under Lieutenant Commander James Parker, the Minne- 
 sota s executive officer. 
 
 We landed about one and a half to two miles above the fort, 
 then formed companies in line along the beach, when the whole 
 were divided into three divisions, each division to be under the 
 senior officer of the ship divisions, and the marines to be 
 under their senior officer on shore. More than 2000 officers, 
 marines, and sailors were landed. 
 
 Upon landing, I was at once detailed and told to select my 
 
PERSONAL EXPERIENCES, ETC. 365 
 
 men for intrenching at the front. Before I could do that the 
 whole company stepped to the front, and there were more than 
 it was intended I should take. We intrenchers advanced, and 
 succeeded in digging our rifle pit for our sharpshooters with- 
 out the loss of a man killed. 
 
 Several received slight wounds, however, and we were under 
 a galling fire from a hateful gun mounted upon a field carriage 
 at the fort's sallyport, as well as musketry along the land face. 
 
 Together with musketry, canister, and grape fired by the 
 enemy in front of us, and fragments of bursting shell fired by 
 our ships at the rear and left of us, intrenching near the face 
 of Fort Fisher was not a very pleasant job, and we who were 
 thus engaged were not long in throwing up enough sand to 
 protect temporarily the few marines who were covering us 
 with their muskets. 
 
 Lieutenant Preston came running from the rear, and ordered 
 me to advance obliquely to front and left and to dig a trench 
 three feet deep. He then turned to my right and was giving 
 orders to Assistant Engineer Holton when, suddenly, like chaff 
 before a gale, they all vanished. Preston was killed, and I 
 was afterward informed that an acting ensign named Smally 
 finished Holton's rifle pit. 
 
 When I got to the next point for throwing up sand, it was 
 so close to the palisades that we were out of the range of the 
 enemy's great guns upon the ramparts ; but the confounded 
 "Napoleon" at the base and center of the land face gave us an 
 occasional raking with grape-shot when not doing the same 
 thing for other intrenchers. 
 
 Now we could see in front of us only one dark, frowning, 
 forbidding line of the fort stretched out across Federal Point. 
 About seventy-five to one hundred yards in front of the pali- 
 sades, and among wires to torpedoes imbedded in the sand to 
 blow us up, we soon had sand enough in front of us for pro- 
 tection against small-arm fire ; but this was accomplished by 
 the sacrifice of several brave men who were shot dead and 
 many others wounded. It was fortunate for us that the bat- 
 tery connections to the torpedoes in the sand did not work; if 
 they had we should have all been among the missing. 
 
 Marines, under Captain L. L. Dawson, of the Colorado, 
 filled the last rifle pit I made, and very soon, as the naval force 
 
366 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 came up along the beach, I saw Mr. Parker, at the head of the 
 column. He hailed me : "Come on, Simms, fall in with your 
 men; we're going to assault." 
 
 I wedged the few men into dead men's places, and, not 
 knowing where the balance of the company were, I went to the 
 head of the line on Mr. Parker's right. He said: "Go with 
 your company," when some officer on Parker's left said: "Let 
 him come along." 
 
 Between the point where I joined the assaulting party and 
 the fort there was no halt before we reached the palisades, and 
 when we were within about twenty yards of them we at the 
 head of the column turned obliquely to the right, at a point 150 
 yards from the fort, and ran to the opening that the ships' 
 shells had made, when suddenly the enemy gave us the full 
 benefit of their convictions — that we w^ere making the main 
 assault; and this, I have since been informed, was the opinion 
 of the commander of the fort at that time. 
 
 With the severe fire of the enemy's musketry it was utterly 
 impossible for more than sixty to one hundred of us who were 
 already at the front to advance. Our column was cut in two, 
 and at least two-thirds of the sailors wavered under the wither- 
 ing showers of bullets the Confederates were sending among 
 them. 
 
 At that time I judged there were 150 to 200 marines and 
 sailors who stubbornly advanced and who were finally com- 
 pelled to take shelter under the second angle of the palisades, 
 which ran from along the land face of the fort to and around 
 the northeast salient at the sea face and then to the beach. 
 
 Acting Master's Mate A. F. Aldrich, of the Tuscarora, with 
 Thompson and myself of the Minnesota, and a sailor whom I 
 took to be a petty officer, got through the opening in the pali- 
 sades within fifty yards of the fort, when the sailor sprang into 
 the air and fell shot through the breast. 
 
 Here we were checked. Fortunately for me that I was not 
 so tall as Mr. Parker, for had I been, a Confederate bullet 
 would have gone through my throat instead of the top and 
 front of my cap. 
 
 I made for the next angle, followed closely by Aldrich. We 
 had made but a few steps when I was shot. Aldrich forged a 
 few steps farther and then sang out: "I'm shot." I tried to 
 
PERSONAL EXPERIENCES, ETC. 367 
 
 step and my leg gave way and down I went. Aldrich got back 
 under the palisades where others were. I got to my feet again, 
 but soon fell. Then some one sung out : "They're retreating." 
 I again got up and yelled '"Cowards!" I had said this in the 
 excitement of the moment, not seeing that the Confederates 
 poured volleys of their hellish fire into the ranks of the stagger- 
 ing sailors and marines whom Breese and others were vainly 
 endeavoring to rally for a second charge. 
 
 When upon my feet this time, Mr. Parker sang out to me : 
 "Lie down, Simms, lie down! There are two holes in you!" 
 I fell. 
 
 It would have been impossible for men made of tougher 
 material than flesh to have withstood that tiring, and for others 
 to advance to where we now were ; neither would the palisades 
 afford shelter for more than were already under them. 
 
 It was the proper thing for them to retreat, for those who 
 did get away did good work soon afterward in conjunction 
 with the army, which by this time was lighting its way into 
 the Confederate works from the Cape Fear River side. 
 
 The Confederates had completely broken us up, where the 
 marines and sailors were thickest, also shattered the few of 
 us who got to the front, forcing some down to the beach end 
 of the stockade and a few closer up under the fort. 
 
 The admiral had ordered that the charge be made around 
 the end of the palisade, which was at least 200 yards from 
 the fort's sea face, and at the beach ; but as there were some 
 of us at the head of the assaulting column who were at the 
 front when that order was read, we led on toward the weakest 
 point in the fort, knowing nothing of any order to do other- 
 wise than get there. Truly there were many lives saved by 
 our rush for the opening in the palisades nearest to the fort, 
 as well as at the most damaged spot along the ramparts. 
 
 The shrieks and groans, mingling with the fiendish rattling 
 around us, together with the whistling bullets and the bursting 
 shells over us, were enough to cause one to feel that he was in 
 that place which General Sherman once described as answering 
 to the name of war. 
 
 I was soon alone upon my bed in the sand, with the protrud- 
 ing Confederate naval battery upon my left and the lofty 
 salient above me, while from between them came the fire of 
 
368 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 musketry, giving good cause for my thinking that all was up 
 with me this time. An occasional shell from some ship of 
 ours struck uncomfortably near, some bursting and scattering 
 their fragments in all directions, while a few landed that were 
 smoking only. 
 
 As officers and enlisted men were shot and fell upon the 
 beach all along the line, from the beginning to the center, the 
 roaring surf afforded some of them "winding sheets," and 
 those men were reckoned among the "missing." • 
 
 As darkness of the night came the ships ceased firing over 
 ws; then with a sudden volley the enemy showered their hot 
 lead at the small crowd of officers and sailors at the palisades. 
 Very soon, rapid rattling musketry was heard upon the west 
 side of the fort, wdiere evidently our army was getting into 
 close action with the enemy; so now we were "let alone" upon 
 the sea front. 
 
 I cannot state from personal observation anything relating 
 to the fight that was then, after dark, going on between our 
 boys in blue and the brave ones in gray, beyond saying that 
 from the continual rattle and roaring of guns there was hell 
 to pay over their way. 
 
 It can easily be imagined what a desperate hand-to-hand 
 battle it must have been, and from truthful statements from 
 those army men who passed through the bloody scene under 
 the light of the stars, it was something almost beyond descrip- 
 tion. 
 
 They finally carried me off the field. There were others 
 near strewn upon the sand between us and the beach. Many 
 were dead, and some were groaning and dying, while some few 
 were crawling off, leaving blood-stained sand marking the spot 
 where they fell and courses taken. 
 
 Lieutenants R. H. Lamson and J. R. Bartlett, Ensigns J. 
 Hobans, and Robley Evans were there. The first three got 
 well up to the front. Evans was wounded, and, according to 
 official report, he fell near the end of the palisade near the 
 beach. 
 
 Excepting the groans from the wounded and dying, and the 
 murmuring, moaning sea along shore, or now and then a 
 stray shot from one of our men in the sand hills, and its 
 acknowledgment by one of the enemy who remained upon the 
 
PERSONAL EXPERIENCES, ETC. 369 
 
 fort's parapet to take care of us while their main force was 
 engaged with our army a thousand yards toward the river, it 
 was comparatively c[uiet. 
 
 The wound that I received was an extremely bad and painful 
 one; the bullet struck on the inside, just above the right knee, 
 passing fourteen inches through the thigh ; it struck the pelvic 
 bone and escaped at the hip. 
 
 As the darkness closed in around us, our executive, Mr. 
 Parker, came across the sand and gave me a stimulant ; in doing 
 so he came very near not having any left to give to anyone 
 else ; for it was so deliciously warming and strengthening, that, 
 when I had shut my teeth dowm on the neck of the flash, I 
 almost played turtle, by closing my eyes and forgetting to let 
 go. I did let go, however, before the kind man's flask was 
 emptied. 
 
 From the loss of blood I had become very weak, and prayed 
 for death to come, but not from the death blow of one of our 
 own ships. One good fellow, who twisted his neck-handker- 
 chief about my hip, received a bullet and then crawled off 
 toward others at the palisade. That poor fellow had rolled me 
 into a hollow in the sand, and when he was shot he muttered 
 something about his mother, and, "if I get through," etc. 
 
 I had seen our oflicers and men shot down at the water's edge 
 during the advance upon the fort, at the immediate approach 
 to the slope, also at the palisade, where it was impossible to aid 
 them off the field before dark. 
 
 As already stated, I lay where I fell into the dark of the 
 night, and as there w^as no other music but the murmuring, 
 splashing sea upon the beach, mingling with the moans and 
 groans of our wounded who were unable to get away, I joined 
 in the choir and groaned to my heart's content from between 
 3 and 4 o'clock to 8 P. M. In this time all from my early 
 childhood flashed through my brain. 
 
 In a letter to Major Hill, at Wilmington, Colonel Lamb 
 expressed the wish for some 12x1 2-inch timber and 3-inch 
 plank to enable him to mount four guns which Hill desired 
 around the "Mound" battery. The colonel also wrote that he 
 needed negroes, as he had not been able to repair earthworks, 
 and, said he, "I am ready to repel Admiral Porter; but if you 
 give me 500 negroes, and enough timber to mount guns, I will 
 
370 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 make him leave some of his vessels behind." The colonel said 
 he needed the 500 negroes to take the place of 200 worn-out 
 ones he then had, who could do no work. 
 
 At about 8 P. M, Mr. Parker came with four sailors and took 
 me to the beach. I was put into Lamson's gig and sent off to 
 the Minnesota. Shortly after I was on board and swung in a 
 cot in the ward room of the big ship there was great cheering 
 on deck, blowing of whistles, and a lurid glare of rocket lights. 
 Then I knew it all meant that Fort I-'isher had fallen into our 
 hands; so I joined in the cheering. Someone said that the fort 
 surrendered at 10 P. M. 
 
 During the three days of the second bombardment of Fort 
 Fisher the whole fleet expended 19,682 projectiles, making a 
 total weight of 2,927,937 pounds of iron and powder hurled 
 against the fort and batteries in both bombardments, in five 
 days, December 24 and 25, 1864, and January 13, 14, and 15, 
 
 With the fall of Fort Fisher and its adjoining batteries. Fort 
 Caswell was evacuated and blown up, Bald-Head and Fort 
 Shaw were destroyed. Fort Campbell was abandoned, and 168 
 guns of heavy caliber were captured, all nearly within gunshot 
 of Fort Fisher. 
 
 As this long night of intense suffering was about drawing 
 to a close, and as day dawned, the prettiest daybreak I had 
 ever witnessed, it was to me a most welcome sight, for I 
 could see the beam of heaven's pure light gleaming in through 
 the air-port abreast of me, in the big ship's side. 
 
 I now thanked God I was alive, while only eight hours 
 before, I had offered a prayer longing for death, and at that 
 time would gladly have welcomed it. 
 
 "Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive. 
 But to be young was very heaven." 
 
 And now that good old flag, the Stars and Stripes, is the 
 only banner for all sections of our grand and glorious country. 
 
 *T>ong may it wave, o'er the land of the free and the home 
 of the brave." 
 
LIBBY* 
 
 By Captain John W. Lewis, Co. I, 4th Kentucky Cav- 
 alry, U. S. Volunteers 
 
 The old soldiers of both sides who fought out the great war 
 have been trying to forget as much as possible the hardships 
 endured during the contest, and especially any ill treatment they 
 may have been subjected to, whether avoidable or not, during 
 the time any of them may have been prisoners of war. They 
 have tried to remember the bright side of the situation; and 
 that there was a bright side the account I am about to give, of 
 a part of what I saw, heard, and felt during a long imprison- 
 ment, seven months of which was spent in the historical and 
 notorious "Libby," most surely proves. 
 
 I was captain of Co. I, 4th Kentucky Cavalry Volunteers, 
 and was captured near the close of the great battle of Chicka- 
 mauga, and taken back to the rear, a prisoner of war, and, 
 arriving at the headquarters of the provost guard in due time, 
 was turned over to the officer in command, a lieutenant of the 
 52d Alabama, who was very considerate of my comfort while 
 in his charge. He informed me that several more officers of 
 my brigade had been captured, whom I would meet in Dalton 
 or Atlanta. I did meet them a few days afterward in the 
 latter place. 
 
 He and his guard took us as far as Dalton, where we shook 
 hands and parted, and I never saw him again. 
 
 At Dalton I met about a dozen officers who were strangers 
 to me, but it did not take long to get acquainted. 
 
 The next day we started for Atlanta, where we arrived in 
 
 ♦ Through the kindness of Colonel Tweedale, U. S. A., Recorder of the 
 Commandery of the District of Columbia, Loyal Legion. 
 
 371 
 
6/^ 
 
 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 due time, and where I bunched with six others of my brigade, 
 we remaining together throughout our imprisonment. 
 
 We spent the remainder of that afternoon and night in the 
 corral, and next morning were placed on the cars (some sixty 
 officers and six hundred enHsted men), and the start for Rich- 
 mond was made, where we arrived about midnight of Sep- 
 tember 30, 1863. 
 
 Disembarking from the train, we were formed in cohmm of 
 fours, and after about a half hour's march through the sleep- 
 ing town were halted, and just before us loomed up, grim, 
 white, and silent in the bright moonlight, the Bastile of the 
 Confederacy, the notorious Libby Prison. 
 
 Situated on the southeast corner of 21st and Gary Streets, 
 the building, or rather the triple buildings, known as the Libby, 
 presented a very strong appearance. Occupying a small square 
 in itself, whitewashed from foundation to roof, a gaslight on 
 each corner and a sentry on each side of its four sides, to 
 escape from Libby was an achievement. But some did escape, 
 both by passing the safeguards, and by digging under them. 
 We entered the prison through a large door to the left of the 
 office, Vv'hich was next the corner. 
 
 The head of column vvas halted at the far end of the room, 
 our detachment being very near the rear. 
 
 Just then a lieutenant of my regiment asked me what I was 
 going to do with my money. "Keep it," said I. "But," he 
 replied, "they v.ill take it away from you if they find it." 
 "Well," said I, "don't they take it from you if you give it to 
 them? How much have you?" "Three one-hundred dollar 
 bills, and a few ones and twos," was his answer. "There you 
 are," said I. "Hide the large bills in your clothes and give 
 them the small ones, and tell them that is all you have; lie to 
 them — it is in a righteous cause." At the same time I was 
 tearing a hole in the lining of my cavalry jacket under the 
 arm and stuffing five twenties in for safe keeping. The lieu- 
 tenant took my advice and saved his three hundred; the adju- 
 tant general of our brigade hid a hundred-dollar bill in a false 
 pocket in his purse ; the others of our party, seven in number, 
 kept what they could, so that we retained among us about seven 
 hundred dollars, which helped us immeasurably during the 
 winter which followed. 
 
LIBBY 373 
 
 After the hunt for greenbacks ended, and our names, rank 
 and regiments were entered in a book by the adjutant of the 
 prison, we were marched upstairs about i A. M. and turned 
 loose in what was called the "Chickamauga" room, the middle 
 room of the building, called so from its occupants having 
 nearly all been captured on or near the field of Chickamauga. 
 
 Most of the occupants were asleep, but enough were awake 
 to call out, "Fresh fish," and ask us a few old sleepy chestnuts 
 as to our choice of rooms, and what we would like for break- 
 fast. However, we were soon occupying places on the floor, 
 and quiet soon reigned throughout the building. In the morn- 
 ing we were assigned to messes, for convenience in drawing 
 rations. Our mess number was 20, I think, and the messes 
 numbered forty each, but were subdivided to suit the fancies 
 or convenience of the members of the larger mess. Our "bri- 
 gade" remained together as one small mess, seven in all. 
 
 As the meat ration was very small, soup was made of it for 
 dinner, and the meat kept out and made into hash the next 
 morning; hence the cry of "Hash for No. i," or some other 
 number, was the first call we heard in the morning. However, 
 the ration got smaller by degrees, and the "meat" part of it 
 soon ceased altogether, and we wrote home for food ; and when 
 we began to receive these boxes, we lived a great deal better. 
 
 We also bought supplies through the prison inspector, one 
 "Dick Turner," and my relatives in Richmond sent me a bas- 
 ketful every Friday or Saturday, which as a matter of course 
 I shared with my mess. With all, we had to husband our 
 resources, and I often dreamed of the "something good to eat." 
 
 We did our own cooking, but we were not bothered so much 
 about the cooking as we were for something to cook. For 
 breakfast we had hash, — if we had any meat at all, — bread, 
 and coffee. For dinner we cooked meat if we had any, gener- 
 ally a boil or stew, with potatoes or rice, beans or cabbage, 
 which latter was a great treat. Sometimes we would have 
 codfish balls. 
 
 The few hundred dollars we had been able to smuggle into 
 the prison were diminishing rapidly, and we had to practice 
 very close economy, not knowing how long our imprisonment 
 would last, but during December boxes from home came con- 
 taining eatables, and we determined to have a Christmas. We 
 
374 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 seven clubbed together and on Christmas day sent out for a 
 turkey and a pair of chickens, which we had cooked, the turkey 
 stuffed with oysters, and the chickens with old-fashioned 
 dressing. We also had a milkpan full of mashed potatoes, 
 with a pat of butter on top, and a couple of mince pies, all of 
 which added to the corn bread, water, and salt, furnished by 
 the authorities, made a very enjoyable dinner indeed. 
 
 Sometime about the beginning of the year of 1864 we 
 noticed many signs of uneasiness, displayed in partly sup- 
 pressed excitement among the officers and others about the 
 prison, and there was, of course, the usual amount of specula- 
 tion among us as to the cause thereof. We soon found out 
 they were greatly excited about the movements of a force of 
 our cavalry, which was reported out on a raid, and was getting 
 alarmingly close to Richmond, which at that time contained 
 but a few troops. This was the force, as we learned after- 
 ward, which, under Kilpatrick and Dahlgren, came so near 
 taking Richmond at that time, in fact had taken it, had they 
 known it ; but, Dahlgren being killed, the troops composing his 
 part of the command retreated without forming the junction 
 with Kilpatrick, as had been agreed upon, and the latter with- 
 drew his command from the other side of the city, which, of 
 course, ended the danger. 
 
 There was a very small force in the city at that time, noth- 
 ing but the local organization, a few regular soldiers, and the 
 remnant of Pickett's old division, on duty as guards around the 
 prisons. As it was, they got so close on one side of the city 
 that we heard some of the firing. 
 
 We amused ourselves in various ways. One officer whose 
 quarters were a short distance down the room from ours 
 caught mice and made a cage for them out of an old tin can; 
 then he took a smaller can and made a turn-around, such as 
 squirrels are taught to revolve, and in a short time he had his 
 captives doing that and many other tricks which were a great 
 source of amusement and interest to us, as well as occupation 
 for him. 
 
 We had a very good troupe of negro minstrels, of the veri- 
 table old-fashioned burnt-cork variety, made up exclusively of 
 officers, there being no enlisted men kept in Libby at this time. 
 There was some first-rate talent among them. Most of the 
 
LIBBY 375 
 
 instruments were made from the boxes sent us with provisions 
 from home, and from their shape, received the name of "music 
 on the square." However, they possessed one or two good 
 instruments, a vioHn and a "cello," and altogether they pro- 
 duced some remarkably good music. 
 
 There was one species of amusement, or employment, or 
 punishment, just as each one chose to consider it, that occupied 
 a short space of time once or twice a day, that every one prac- 
 ticed, performed, or suffered; and that was "skirmishing." 
 I'll not tell you what it was, but will give you just a hint. 
 Scattered around in every room in the prison, at any hour of 
 the day, except at meal time, you would see officers of all 
 grades with certain pieces of clothing in their hands, while 
 they diligently scanned each garment, especially the seams, for 
 
 what ? Well, they were not prospecting for gold, although 
 
 what they found was the size of very coarse grains, and some 
 of the fellows declared that they had C. S. A. branded on their 
 backs. Besides being very cold work, it was very funny to 
 see the dignified general and field officers engaged in that sort 
 of warfare, but all had to come to it; the pests had no respect 
 for rank or person. Bone carving was also a very popular 
 employment, and some very respectable work was produced. 
 
 Along about the early part of January the prison authorities 
 took it into their heads to put iron bars in the windows, and it 
 was while this was being done that some of the boldest escapes 
 were made, two or three of which I recall. Among the pris- 
 oners in the hospital were a captain and lieutenant, the latter 
 a tailor, and he agreed to make the surgeon in charge of the 
 prison hospital a uniform. So the surgeon brought the mate- 
 rial as directed by the lieutenant, who made two coats, one for 
 the Rebel surgeon, and one for the Union captain, who was 
 about the same size. The one coat was delivered, and the 
 surgeon paid liberally for it. In the meantime the captain 
 had secured a gray jacket for the lieutenant (it did not matter 
 about trousers — the guard all wore the Yankee blue) and one 
 morning, after the surgeon had made his daily visit and de- 
 parted, the two officers made ready, and a little while after 
 the sentry in front of the hospital had been changed, the Union 
 captain, dressed as a surgeon, C. S. A., followed by the lieu- 
 tenant in his old gray jacket and old cloth hat, walked boldly 
 
376 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 out of the front door of the hospital, proceeded down the 
 street, and were soon out of sight, and they made their way 
 safely to our lines. 
 
 Another bold escape was that of a captain in a western regi- 
 ment who, in broad daylight, walked out through the office. I 
 had noticed this officer for some time, and wondered why he 
 allowed his hair and beard to grow so long and become so 
 tangled, thinking that if he would get shaved and have his hair 
 cut he would come out a very handsome man. He was about 
 six feet high, a good figure, and had very dark hair and beard. 
 But there was method in his madness. One day he received a 
 large box of provisions and clothing, and a day or two after- 
 ward a gentleman about his size, with close-cropped hair, a 
 handsome mustache and imperial, dressed in a well-fitting suit 
 of black, with well-laundered linen, a silk hat on his head, and 
 with gloves and a cane, entered the prison office from a room 
 where a lot of our fellows were awaiting examination by the 
 surgeon (it being sick call), and, looking around, innocently 
 inquired if it was "General Winder's office." "No, sir," said 
 the adjutant, "this is not General Winder's office," and point- 
 ing up the street, he gave him the proper directions and said, 
 "Sentry, let this gentleman pass." That was the last heard 
 of him, my old friend of the erstwhile long beard and tangled 
 hair, until he too had reached our lines in safety, when he 
 wrote back to friends in the prison, who were very anxious to 
 learn the result of his bold adventure. 
 
 One of the neatest schemes was gotten up and put in practice 
 by a couple of enlisted men, several hundred of whom were 
 confined in a large building diagonally opposite the Libby. 
 
 One night a number of us heard a shot fired across the street, 
 and the natural thought was, "another of our poor fellows 
 gone." but we. could learn nothing that night. In the morning 
 one of the colored prisoners who was sent in daily to clean up 
 generally, told us that some prisoners had made up a dummy 
 which they let down by a rope, and which the sentry saw and 
 shot at, and before he could reload, two prisoners slid down 
 by him and escaped. 
 
 It has always been a matter of great regret that about half 
 of the tunnel diggers were, after all their toil and hardships, 
 recaptured and brought back to the prison, those of us who 
 
LIBBY 377 
 
 took advantage of their toil having about the same proportion 
 of luck. Colonel Rose, the "Chief," was himself retaken. I 
 am very glad to say, how^ever, that no one of the number was 
 either killed or wounded in the pursuit. When the inspector 
 appeared with his party each morning for roll call the occu- 
 pants of the room proceeded to form in line down the middle 
 in four ranks, when the inspector would count them. If the 
 count tallied they would be dismissed, and the inspector and 
 his party would proceed to another room. If the count failed 
 to tally, they would be passed into another room through a 
 narrow door, and counted in that way, and if there was a 
 shortage after the whole had been counted they would all have 
 to pass through the "needle's eye" and be checked off by name. 
 
 General John H. Morgan, the "great raider," as he was 
 called, came to visit us that winter. 
 
 Morgan had just escaped from Columbus, Ohio, where he 
 and a number of his officers had been confined as prisoners 
 of war, and he had a natural curiosity to see a lot of "Union 
 officers in a cage." About the lirst one he called on was Col- 
 onel Streight of Indiana, and he said, "Colonel, I am very 
 sorry to see you here, but as you are here I am very glad to 
 see you." 
 
 By long odds, the most welcome visitors to me were my 
 sister and her three children. Her husband had some posi- 
 tion in the Interior Department in Richmond, and he got her 
 a permit to visit me with her little ones once a week. In 
 addition to visiting me, my sister sent each week a basket, and 
 sometimes two baskets of food, enough to last me alone for a 
 week, as it was intended it should, but I had seven comrades 
 in the mess, and we just had a "jolly good losh" every Sunday, 
 
 The regular guard around LilDby was one of the best organi- 
 zations of the kind I ever knew of; they performed their 
 duties right up to the handle, in a soldierly manner, and they 
 were entirely incorruptible. If these fellows had been on 
 guard the night of February 14, 1864, when no of us escaped 
 through the famous tunnel, they would have got on to our 
 little scheme long before half of such number had got through. 
 The men who happened to be on guard that night belonged 
 to a brigade of troops that were passing through Richmond 
 at the time, and were detailed for temporary duty around the 
 
378 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 prison, in order to give the regular guard a much-needed rest. 
 The sentinel on the side next the canal saw us, or the most of 
 us, going out under the gateway, but he said he thought it 
 was their fellows stealing Yankee boxes, — alluding to the 
 boxes of provisions from our friends at home, — which were 
 stored in a large building just across the vacant lot east of 
 the prison. 
 
 One dark night near the middle of February, just after 
 taps, while we were preparing to lie down, my blanket mate, 
 Captain Rogers of my regiment, whispered to me, "I say, 
 Lewis, the boys have a tunnel open and are getting out ; shall 
 we go?" This was the first intimation I had of anything of 
 the kind, and that speaks volumes for the discretion of the 
 men who dug the tunnel, that, while enduring almost incredible 
 hardships, the fifteen men who did the work in forty-two 
 nights were the only ones in nearly 1200 in the same building 
 who knew, or even suspected, what was going on. "Yes," 
 said I, "let's make the trial," and we secured some provisions 
 and went downstairs to what was called the dining room and 
 walked softly back to the vicinity of a fireplace, just under 
 where we slept on the floor above. 
 
 It was very dark, and there seemed to be great confusion, 
 and all at once a stampede occurred and almost everyone 
 started on the run for the stairs at the other end of the room. 
 Much to my surprise, no alarm of the guard ensued and I 
 could presently hear our people coming back and evidently 
 going through with the programme, whatever that might be. 
 I placed myself among a little squad of four men just then 
 crawling by me, and, squeezing in behind No. 2 of the party, 
 I inserted my legs into the back of the fireplace and my foot 
 finding a hole on a rope ladder, I soon reached the floor of 
 the cellar. As I crossed the floor in search of the tunnel, I 
 could see the legs of the sentry on Gary Street, who walked 
 his beat in blissful unconsciousness of what the "Yankees" 
 were doing almost under his feet. I was extremely fortunate 
 in striking the tunnel, as I reached the wall on the other side 
 of the cellar, which was forty-five feet wide, and trotted 
 through it on hands and knees all right, except that at about 
 the middle, as near as I could judge, of the street under which 
 
LIBBY 379 
 
 the tunnel ran, I had to get very close to the bottom and 
 scratch under what I suppose was a water main. 
 
 Emerging from the tunnel in a little brick woodshed inside 
 the lot on the other side of the street, I found there was a 
 bright moon shining, which, with the light from the corner 
 lamps, shed a baleful light on the ground over which we had 
 to pass. However, there was no other way, and we had to 
 risk it; so our little party of five started Indian file, crossed 
 the lot, passed under an arched gateway and emerged into 
 Canal Street not a hundred feet from the sentry on that side 
 of the prison. Turning down the street we walked a few 
 blocks, and then turning to the left we went through the town 
 directly away from the river, passing a number of sentinels in 
 front of large buildings, which we took to be hospitals, but 
 the only notice taken of us was to ask, "Going out foraging 
 to-night, fellows?" to which we of course always answered 
 in the affirmative. Nothing occurred to stop us and we soon 
 reached the open country, which was much cut up with ditches 
 and rifle pits and other earthworks. 
 
 Before daylight we hid in the edge of the swamp through 
 which the Chickahominy River finds its way, where we were 
 well screened by the bushes from the view of any chance 
 passer. 
 
 After a long and dreary day, hungry and half frozen, we 
 started at night to cross the dreaded swamp which was already 
 the grave of thousands of our brave fellows and was destined 
 to be the grave of thousands more. Struggling through 
 thickets, torn by the briars, we finally found a tree which had 
 been thrown across the river, and on this bridge we cooned 
 over and spent the balance of the night working through the 
 swamp toward solid ground on the other side. About day- 
 light, being on dry ground in the timber, we found a depres- 
 sion in the soil which w^e thought suitable for the purpose, 
 and proceeded to make a fire to thaw our almost frozen bodies 
 and limbs and the liquids in our canteens, as well as the scant 
 eatables in our pockets. 
 
 We soon had a small but comfortable blaze, and never did 
 fire feel more grateful to a cold and hungry set of men. 
 
 After thawing out our bodies and provisions and eating the 
 
38o THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 small allowance of the latter to which necessity limited us, we 
 were just about ready to resume our march, when we discov- 
 ered a man with a double-barreled shotgun, staring intently 
 at us from behind a tree about forty feet away. 
 
 He said nothing to us, and I assure you we did not stop to 
 open conversation with him; nor did we stand upon the order 
 of our going, but we went at once, in very quick time, and 
 in the direction exactly opposite to where we saw him. After 
 going at a fearful rate for a mile or more the pace began to 
 tell on me, and I very soon had to halt for a minute or two 
 to rest and get my wind, the others of the party generously 
 stopping for me, although none of us could say how closely 
 we were being pursued. 
 
 Starting on again we did not go very far until I had to tell 
 my comrades that it was no use, I could not travel at any- 
 thing like the pace necessary to get out of danger of the 
 pursuit which we supposed, as a matter of course, would 
 follow us. All stopped as though to stay with me and share 
 my fate, but this I would not allow, and said to them : "There 
 is no use of your sacrificing yourselves for me, and I will have 
 as good chance to escape alone as in a crowd. Find me a 
 place in the swamp where it is dry and open overhead to the 
 sun and I may be strong enough to travel to-night." A place 
 was found for me, and leading me to a spot in a nearby thicket, 
 they made me as comfortable as possible under the circum- 
 stances, divided their scanty store of food with me and bade 
 me a reluctant farewell. They were entire strangers to me 
 prior to our escape, but we were comrades in arms, brother 
 officers in the same cause, and I am very sure they never would 
 have left me had I not insisted upon it. 
 
 It was not long before the sound of the footsteps of my 
 comrades died away in the distance and I was left to endure 
 one of the dreariest days of my existence. However, all things 
 have an end, and as darkness began to fall I started on my 
 weary way down the peninsula, toward Williamsburg, the 
 nearest place then occupied by our forces, and more than sixty 
 miles away. Hour after hour I struggled on, until in crossing 
 a small stream I made some noise that attracted the attention 
 of a sentry whose presence I was not aware of until after he 
 
LIBBY 381 
 
 had quietly notified the sergeant of the guard, and I was sur- 
 rounded, and, of course, had to surrender. 
 
 After answering a few questions as to my name, rank, etc., 
 the sergeant in command of the squad, all of whom appeared 
 very decent fellows, informed me that they belonged to "Hol- 
 comb's" legion of South Carolina Cavalry, with headquarters 
 at Bottoms' bridge, whither they were taking me, and where 
 in due time we arrived ; and I was put into the guardhouse, 
 where, near a comfortable fire in an open fireplace, whose 
 grateful warmth was most welcome to me, I soon fell asleep 
 on a pile of straw. When T awoke I found two others who 
 had been brought in while I slept. 
 
 Near the middle of the forenoon a party, consisting of 
 "Dick Turner," the inspector of the prison, a young man 
 named Legan, and one other of the prison employees, rode up, 
 and after a short halt told us to prepare to march back to 
 Richmond, some eighteen or twenty miles. We started with 
 heavy hearts, but had not gone far, when Turner said, "If 
 you gentlemen will give your parole not to attempt to escape 
 on the way, you may ride back to the city." Of course we 
 gave our parole and each was given a horse to ride. 
 
 As we were passing through the "Rockets," a suburb of 
 Richmond, Turner halted the party and said, "As it may be a 
 long time before you have another opportunity, suppose we 
 all go in here and take a drink?" We accepted the courtesy, 
 and, dismounting, followed him into the "grocery" where we 
 got, I think, about the vilest compound that I ever took in a 
 social wa}^, and for which he paid about a dollar a head. 
 Remounting, it was not long before we arrived in front of 
 the prison again, whose walls looked gloomier than ever 
 before. 
 
 Halting in front of the hospital door, Turner said to me, 
 "Captain, I will put you in here for a day or two," and calling 
 for someone inside he put me in charge of the hospital attend- 
 ants, who presently gave me some bread and tea, which was 
 extremely welcome to me, and being in due time assigned a 
 cot, I was soon in bed and in enjoyment of the sweetest sleep 
 I had had for several months. 
 
 I was left in the hospital for a couple of days, when I was 
 
382 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 taken out and put into a cell, one of three like places reaching 
 partly across the front of the cellar under our room. That 
 was about i o'clock P. M., and about five the same afternoon 
 I was called out to make room for other unfortunates who 
 had also been recaptured and now had to do their penance. I 
 was sent upstairs with the other two and joined my old mess 
 again and the old routine went on just as it had before the 
 escape. 
 
 One day I received a box from home in which was a letter, 
 and I was rather startled when I read the address, "Captain 
 William Hatch, C. S. A." However, I enclosed the letter with 
 a line or two of my own to Captain Hatch (then the Rebel 
 assistant commissioner of exchange), explaining how I came 
 in possession of it. 
 
 Some two or three weeks after I was called upon by a couple 
 of gentlemen, and one of them, a broad-shouldered, fine-look- 
 ing fellow in a civilian suit of gray, Bob Breckinridge, intro- 
 duced me to his companion as Major John Viley of Lexing- 
 ton, Ky., who said : "We came here at the instance of Captain 
 Hatch, and he wished us to say to you that he received your 
 very courteous note of a couple of weeks ago enclosing a 
 letter for him found in a box of yours, sent by your people 
 in Kentucky, which letter was from a very dear cousin of his, 
 my wife, Mrs. John Viley of Lexington. The captain was 
 delighted to hear so directly from his cousin, and in apprecia- 
 tion of your courtesy he has commissioned us to say to you 
 that he would send you home on the first boat leaving under 
 a flag of truce." 
 
 It was forty days before another boat came, but my name 
 was called at last, and rushing back to my end of the room, I 
 began to pick up my few belongings. I gathered up my 
 things and bidding good-by to my friends proceeded down- 
 stairs. 
 
 While signing the parole obligation. Turner noticed a valise 
 in my hands, and said that if I would give my word that there 
 were no letters in it from officers in the prison he would not 
 search it; I assured him there were no letters in it except a 
 number received by myself and Lieutenant Kelly, the owner 
 of the valise, who had been sent home on the last boat, but 
 he did not ask anything about a rubber blanket thrown so 
 
LIBBY 383 
 
 carelessly over my arm and, of course, I did not mention the 
 scores of letters from my fellow officers to friends at home 
 contained in its folds. 
 
 As soon as the signing was completed we went out, and 
 down the street to the boat which w^as to take us down the 
 river. There were already on board some 300 of our enlisted 
 men, and as soon as we marched on (there were about thirty 
 of us) they cast off and we were steaming down James River, 
 and reached City Point about noon, anchoring a little way 
 from shore, while our truce boat, the City of New York, lay 
 about two hundred feet from us. We stepped down into a 
 boat and were soon alongside our ow-n ship, and got aboard, 
 where we met the last of the men in gray, a party of officers, 
 coming off to their own boat. As we passed each other and 
 raised our caps in mutual cold politeness, an immense flag, the 
 Stars and Stripes, just being raised on our ship, waved for a 
 moment over us all, the men in gray as well as the men in blue ; 
 a silent portent, could we have read it then, of these happier 
 later days, when our glorious old flag waves over one common 
 country and a united people. 
 
THE DEFENSE OF LITTLE WASHINGTON, N. C. 
 By J. B. Lewis, U. S. Volunteers 
 
 I WISH my descriptive powers were better, for I would like 
 to describe to you my feelings on being marched to the firing 
 line as we met the men coming back, perhaps using their guns 
 as a crutch, often with the blood running from various parts 
 of their bodies, then would come the stretchers and the com- 
 rades helping some wounded fellow soldier, and the occasional 
 dropping of a man around you. The bursting of a shell, the 
 awful swish of the Whitworth cannon, and the excitement 
 attending every movement, never failed to make me think of 
 home and to wish I was there. 
 
 My command, under General Foster, was in the defense of 
 Little Washington, N. C. As our force numbered but 600 
 men, we armed the negroes, which brought our total force to 
 1 1 60. The attack on this place while we were there was 
 made by a Confederate force which numbered 14,000 troops 
 under skilled commanders, yet we held them at bay for seven- 
 teen days, when they departed. The records show that 200 
 shots per hour for quite a portion of the time were fired into 
 our fortification. The excitement was intense. We were 
 part of the time on short rations, and every man from the 
 highest officer down was covered with vermin — graybacks. I 
 do not recall the loss, which was not large, but every faculty 
 was tenselv strained every minute of the time, and we were 
 glad to obtain sleep even in five-minute installments. 
 
 384 
 
WHAT IMPRESSED ME MOST 
 
 By J. K. P. Holt, 19TH Arkansas Infantry, C. S. A. 
 
 The incident that impressed me most during the war was, 
 I think, connected with the battle of Elkhorn Tavern. Our 
 regiment had marched up in the old field and formed in line 
 of battle with General Green. About this time an ambulance 
 was driven up in front of us, and I asked the driver — who had 
 told us that there was immediate danger for us if we got into 
 the main fight — what was in the ambulance. He replied, "The 
 bodies of General McCulloch and General Mcintosh. Both were 
 killed this morning, and our whole army is in the greatest 
 confusion and disorder." Oh, how we felt! We had marched 
 nearly three hundred miles to participate in that battle ; now 
 we stood our ground until our entire wagon train of 250 wagons 
 had passed. We had the Federals whipped, but the killing of 
 those two generals scared General Van Dorn off the field, with 
 the result that all night and all the next day was a dreary 
 retreat. Passing broken-down wagons and men utterly ex- 
 hausted and worn out, we got back to near Fort Smith in 
 about four days. How many times my heart ached as I fired 
 volleys over my dead comrades that died near Fort Smith on 
 that awful retreat. 
 
 385 
 
THE BATTLE OF PLYMOUTH, N. C. 
 
 By J. D. Creed, 2ist North Carolina Infantry, C. S. A. 
 
 The battle of Plymouth was fought on April 20, 1864. My 
 regiment was resting at or near Winchester, Va., in the latter 
 part of the winter, when we were ordered to the eastern part 
 of North Carolina. We moved by way of Lynchburg on to 
 Plymouth. Our force was not ready to attack the fortified 
 town, so we waited until all was ready. The gunboat Albe- 
 marle was to attack the town with its strong fortifications. 
 On the 20th we moved on the fort. Captain Whitlock, com- 
 mander of our skirmish line, found a point where we could 
 obtain some protection, so we followed him, and after repeated 
 assaults we captured the outer works. Captain Blackburn, of 
 Co. G, fell far in advance of the line. We lay on the field all 
 that night and at sunrise the next morning we assaulted the 
 main works, aided by the Albemarle. We took the fort, though 
 it was ably defended. The commander of the fort was mor- 
 tally wounded, but would not surrender, and when the next in 
 command hoisted the white flag the commander cursed him 
 terribly. The battle was a hard-fought one, both sides evinc- 
 ing the most undaunted courage, and many brave men of the 
 Union and Confederate sides fell to rise no more. In a few 
 days we moved back to Kingston, and from there back to 
 Richmond, the actual seat of war. Our regiment participated 
 in all the battles around Richmond and under the brave Gen- 
 eral Hope, the few of us who were living surrendered at 
 Appomattox, and then wended our way back to our desolated 
 homes, thankful that the war was at an end, and now thankful 
 for peace in a reunited country. 
 
 386 
 
MEMORIES OF SERVICE AFLOAT FROM 1862 TO 
 
 1866 
 
 By Francis P. B. Sands, Acting Master, U. S. Navy 
 
 Let me give you a sketch of blockade life, its labors, its 
 vicissitudes and experiences; and, aboard of a blockader, bid 
 adieu to the comforts of port and prepare for a little service, 
 here taking up the narrative written thirty-eight years ago 
 as the same was then worded. 
 
 We are sure that for a while we will fare well, for all of 
 our month's pay in advance has been laid out in stores that will 
 serve to remind us of our favorite hotels. 
 
 Our "nobby" store clothes are packed away in the lockers 
 under our bunks, and our weather-worn watch coats slipped 
 on as the "boy" summons us to quarters while leaving port. 
 
 A brief run brings us to our post off Cape Fear, and as we 
 sight the fleet and steam in we are met by a vessel sent out to 
 inquire into the character of the newcomer; which, when she 
 makes out our "signal numbers," which fly at the masthead, 
 rounds to and escorts us into our station anchorage. 
 
 From the sides of every vessel come visitors (while our 
 captain is making his duty visit to the senior ofiicer present), 
 and our deck and wardroom are filled with officers inquiring 
 eagerly for home news and exchanging bits of gossip about 
 mutual acquaintances, treating us as princes, for the sight of 
 a newcomer fresh from a Northern port proved ever a god- 
 send. 
 
 We accept an invitation to accompany one of our visitors 
 to his vessel near by. We are shown into the wardroom, 
 where hospitality, in the shape of lukewarm condensed water 
 and ship's biscuit, is dispensed with all a sailor's prodigality; 
 
 * Through the courtesy of Colonel Tweedale, U. S. A., Recorder of 
 Loyal Legion Commandery, District of Columbia. 
 
 387 
 
388 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 but the expression of disgust that spreads over our faces draws 
 from some sympathizer in a stateroom near us a bottle of 
 treasured sherry, of which he deprives himself to do honor to 
 our visit, and we partake. 
 
 We are shown the preparations made for the performance 
 of our blockading duty. The rows of boarding pikes and 
 cutlasses, and the arm chests show ever3'^thing ready for instant 
 use. 
 
 Our attention is called to the man slung aloft in a boat' 
 swain's chair at the topmast head, who, with a glass in hand, 
 is watching for any unusual movements of the enemy in the 
 river and ready to report the sight of a sunlit sail or a curl 
 of black smoke on the distant horizon. 
 
 As dusk comes on we observe that all the vessels get under 
 way, and as the darkness increases, they each gradually move 
 into their respective stations. Following their motions, we 
 weigh anchor and steam slovi'ly in, all the watch on deck, the 
 guns ready for action, and watchful eyes noting everything 
 around. i 
 
 Darkness, profound, soon wraps all things from sight; a 
 haze upon the water shutting out the shore line from us, 
 although we are steadily nearing it. The master-at-arms 
 reports all lights out except in the lanterns for signaling, and, 
 of course, the binnacle light, which is well hooded. 
 
 The word is passed for silence fore and aft, and a hand in 
 the chains from time to time in whispered tones announces 
 the decreasing depth as we draw in toward the bar. The 
 messenger boy quietly announces the half hours as they pass 
 away; in the perfect silence that exists, through the night air 
 comes the call of the sentry on the Rebel works, announcing 
 the hour and that all is well. 
 
 As midnight comes, perchance the moon is well down and 
 the tide well up toward the top of the flood, when suddenly a 
 rocket is fired up the coast, its course telling the discovery of 
 and the route pursued by the blockade-runner. 
 
 Sleep is over for all hands ; the quick but quiet summons 
 brings every man to his station at general quarters for action, 
 armed and equipped ; decks are cleared and guns cast loose ; 
 steam is run up and all of our night-glasses are turned in 
 search of the stranger. Another rocket well out to sea, fol- 
 
MEMORIES OF SERVICE, ETC. 389 
 
 lowed by a gunshot, tells us that the "artful dodger" is headed 
 off in his attempt to break through our line. For hours we 
 stand at our guns waiting and watching — yet not another 
 sound do we hear, and at last the order to secure is given and 
 the watch below is given another snatch at forty winks of 
 sleep. 
 
 We throw ourselves, all clothed as we are, upon our bunks 
 to be startled up by the sound of a gun and the explosion of a 
 shell near by, and hurried steps on the deck above. 
 
 We rush up to find that a stupid quartermaster in the flurry 
 of the previous excitement had suffered a lantern to go out, 
 and, our vessel having drifted with the current farther than 
 we should have allowed her to do, the officer of the deck could 
 not give prompt answer to the signal from our next neighbor, 
 and a shell was thrown over us to bring us to. 
 
 The signal stations on the Rebel shore, deceived as we also 
 were, show their different colored lights and make ready to 
 receive their English visitor, who is supposed to be entering 
 the inlet. 
 
 We explain our want of promptness in answering the signal, 
 and steaming back to our station await the gray dawn which 
 sends us off from the shore. 
 
 The station buoy is reached, and we find that one of the 
 vessels on the outer line has not come in, thus letting us know 
 that our visitor of the night is being pursued. 
 
 Thus were the months passed; scarcely a night going by, 
 with favorable tide and moon, without an attempt being made 
 to evade our vigilance from within or from without; some- 
 times the runners crept down along the coast, seeming to 
 ride upon the very surf itself, so close in did they venture, and 
 sometimes they made a bold dash through the lines of the fleet, 
 trusting to superior speed and the darkness. 
 
 An off-shore line of blockaders was established, cruising 
 at a distance from port equal to eight or ten hours' fast steam- 
 ing, to head off the "runners"; and at the same time armed 
 boats, with muffled oars, were stationed at intervals between 
 the vessels and the beach, and one or two close in, on the bar, 
 to signal the departure of such "runners" and to frustrate 
 their efforts to escape, by sending up rockets to warn the ever- 
 watchful vessels of the blockading squadron. 
 
390 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 This boat duty was very hazardous, not only from the fre- 
 quency of gales, more or less severe, which now and then 
 caught the boats away from their ships, but often they had 
 narrow escapes from being run down by the "runners" in the 
 darkness and the fog. 
 
 I often went in on such scouts with my friend Silas W. 
 Terry, afterward a rear admiral. We shared at midnight our 
 hard-boiled eggs and sea biscuits, and kept ourselves awake 
 spinning yarns, until we got in so close as to hear the voices 
 of the Rebels on the beach at Fort Caswell. 
 
 Now and then the monotony of this duty was varied by an 
 expedition, such as the descent upon the Rebel salt works at 
 Masonboro Inlet, where 200 mules were stampeded, 50 wagons 
 burned, and all the boilers and salt pans were blown up by 
 shells prepared for the purpose, to the great alarm of the 
 citizens of Wilmington, some eleven miles away, who imag- 
 ined that an invading force was marching on the city; and 
 while the "long roll" was beaten to summon the defenders of 
 the place to arms, our crews quietly returned to the fleet, 
 taking with them fifty or sixty conscripts, who were delighted 
 to escape the Confederate rule, while we had the knowledge 
 that the salt supply of the Confederacy, then so necessary to 
 them, was materially diminished. 
 
 At another time, Cushing, with a couple of boats, slipped 
 in past Fort Caswell, and landing at Smithville, was guided 
 by faithful contrabands through the town to the headquarters 
 of General Hebert, entering which they captured in bed the 
 engineer on the general's staff; his adjutant general, clad only 
 in his shirt, escaping through a window in haste, taking to 
 the woods out of town in the belief that the troops had 
 mutinied, and so he did not give any alarm to the regiment a 
 square away, until it was too late to intercept the boats which 
 withdrew in safety with their prize. 
 
 I was so fortunate as to be, for some months, upon a very 
 fast steamer, a captured blockade-runner, converted into a 
 gunboat (the U. S. S. Gettysburg), which was assigned to 
 duty on the off-shore line of blockaders, the most exciting and 
 interesting, while it was the least fatiguing and hazardous of 
 blockade service. 
 
 I remember one particularly interesting chase in which 
 
MEMORIES OF SERVICE, ETC. 391 
 
 thorough seamanship and great speed enabled us to take a 
 very valuable prize. 
 
 We were out cruising on the inner edge of the Gulf Stream 
 off Cape Fear, and had been steaming at our slowest rate in a 
 circle, now and then stopping to drift, retaining all the time 
 about the same bearing from Cape Fear. 
 
 My watch saw the day dawn, just preceding which, I called 
 down the lookout at the foretopmast head, and with a splendid 
 pair of binocular glasses in hand, mounted the rigging myself 
 and took my seat in the boatswain's chair. From that lofty 
 perch, as the gray twilight, which precedes the coming of the 
 day, made things visible around us, I carefully searched the 
 whole horizon, ordering the helm to be put over half, so as to 
 bring it all in succession before the object glasses. To the 
 southward and eastward from the clearly defined line of the 
 horizon rose up piles of clouds in broken cumuli, a series of 
 irregular fancy shapes, scattered along in varying form, size, 
 and degrees of density, which it would have delighted a Ruskin 
 to describe. 
 
 While scanning them admiringly, a tiny cloud somewhat 
 darker than those near to it struck me as worthy of closer 
 attention, and giving the course to the quartermaster below we 
 ran for it slowly. Closely studying it, at last I could discern 
 a tapering spar on either side of the cloud, which increased so 
 rapidly in density that I gave the glad cry of "black smoke," 
 passing the word to the captain ; calling all hands, and descend- 
 ing from my perch aloft, rang "four bells," and ordered the 
 messenger boy to turn out the chief engineer. Soon I had all 
 my watch at work breaking out from the hold the pine wood 
 and rosin, which we had obtained in Beaufort for such occa- 
 sions, for nothing could produce a hotter fire in a short time 
 than this kind of fuel. 
 
 A seaman with keen eyesight had replaced me on the look- 
 out, and as the sun rose above the horizon and shot his hori- 
 zontal rays over the bosom of the sea, he announced that the 
 vessel in sight was a blockade-runner pouring out such vol- 
 umes of black smoke from her stacks as to indicate that she 
 was being pursued by another vessel as yet invisible to us. 
 
 We ran for her under a full head of steam; the 30-pounder 
 Parrott gun was cleared away for instant use, the pine wood 
 
392 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 and rosin, at the word from the engineer of the watch, was 
 sent below to the fireroom by the gangs on deck, and we went 
 speeding through the smooth and tranquil waters at an excel- 
 lent rate. 
 
 The chaser had perceived us some time before and was now 
 running a course which brought us astern of her, and soon 
 in sight of the other chaser, which we recognized as the 
 Florida, Captain Pierce Crosby commanding, a steamer hav- 
 ing a fair reputation for speed. 
 
 She was of course nearer to the chase than ourselves and 
 we felt a thrill of delight as we drew nearer to her. 
 
 We had often before participated in day chases, generally 
 sighting the stranger about midday, and in six cases out of 
 seven, losing sight of her in the darkness of evening, or in 
 some of the blinding rain squalls which during certain seasons 
 so frequently sweep along the borders of the Gulf Stream. 
 Here, however, we had more than six hours of daylight before 
 us; our vessel was only three days from the dry-dock, where 
 we had scraped her steel hull and painted it and covered it 
 with melted tallow so that we slipped smoothly through the 
 water. For four hours we sped along with constantly increas- 
 ing swiftness; and when, upon the log being cast, the fifteen- 
 knot rag slipped through my fingers, we passed the other 
 chaser as though she were at anchor. The officer with the 
 quadrant reported that the angle shown thereon, while observ- 
 ing the top masthead and the waterline, was steadily widening. 
 
 Our whaleboat was cleared away ready for lowering, for 
 we felt sure of her. 
 
 A spurt for half an hour or so enabled the chaser to hold 
 her own for a brief period; but a splash alongside of her 
 now and then told us they were throwing the bales of cotton 
 overboard to lighten her in hopes of escaping, but in doing 
 so they altered her trim somewhat and we gained more rap- 
 idly. Then an experimental shot was fired from our Parrott 
 at extreme elevation, and it was followed by a splash just in 
 front of her bow, showing that we had exact range. Dahl- 
 gren, our executive, then aimed the gun and fired the second 
 shot, but we could not see the result. As that gun was in my 
 division I took the next shot myself, and in a few minutes we 
 noticed that she was slowing down and getting by the head. 
 
MEMORIES OF SERVICE, ETC. 393 
 
 A boat was lowered from her as she stopped and her officers 
 left her. Our whaleboat was soon speeding to her and as it 
 passed the runner's cutter, someone sung out that the third 
 shot had hit their waterline abreast the foremast. 
 
 The boat's crew boarded her, and running forward, one of 
 the men tied the end of the halliard around his waist and 
 swung himself over the side, a comrade holding the line well 
 forward. He found the hole with his foot, ran his leg in 
 up to his thigh, and sang out to start the donkey engine and 
 pump, which the engineer did, and we could see her bow come 
 up until the man's waist was above the water, when the men 
 on board having cleared away within the hold, were ready 
 with wads of loose cotton, which as the seaman's leg, on signal, 
 was withdrawn, they wedged into the hole and sealed the leak 
 closely. 
 
 We soon were on our way leading our prize, — the Lillian, — 
 into Beaufort Harbor, where 
 
 "To the admiring crowd at Sutler Steele's 
 We told how handHng of the prize goods feels." 
 
 This sketch will give a general idea of the character of ser- 
 vice which was so zealously, faithfully, and successfully per- 
 formed by the volunteer officers of the navy during that war, 
 under the training and example of the officers of the regular 
 navy. 
 
"LEST WE FORGET" 
 By Acting Master Francis P. B, Sands, U. S. N. 
 
 This article is another contributed by Colonel Tweedale, U. S. A., 
 Recorder of the Commandery of Loyal Legion of the District of Co- 
 lumbia. — Editor. 
 
 Dear old Joe Fyffe, who taught me seamanship on the Min- 
 nesota, was a faultlessly brave and gallant sailor and officer; 
 daring in battle, skillful, resourceful, and untiring in every 
 phase of service. 
 
 Well do I recall his saving the old Minnesota in a terrific 
 northeast gale off Frying Pan Shoals, when, all of the other 
 officers having proved unequal to the task, his splendid sea- 
 manship and the prompt obedience of the crew (who fairly 
 worshiped him) to his orders, carried the old frigate into 
 safety, and won for him restoration to the active list by special 
 act of Congress. 
 
 He was a type of officer known only to the days of the 
 frigates and sloops-of-war, with wooden sides and snowy 
 canvas sails. 
 
 He had won the "Victoria Cross" for service in the Arctic 
 Sea on the Harstene expedition seeking for Sir John Frank- 
 lin; and he was one of the junior officers who carried the 
 Resolute back to England as a present from our government. 
 
 He had cruised in every sea; he passed through every rank 
 to that of rear admiral. On one occasion, when General Grant, 
 with Admiral Lee, went up the James River to examine into 
 the condition of the Rebel works near Fort Darling, and a 
 point close in to the fort was reached, the admiral told Fyffe 
 to send a man to the top of the protected wheel-house to report 
 whether the rifle pits seen along the shore were occupied. 
 Fyffe slipped out on deck and soon was standing in the exposed 
 
 394 
 
"LEST WE FORGET" 395 
 
 position over the admiral's head and began to report what he 
 saw. 
 
 "Come down," exclaimed the admiral, "I did not mean you 
 to expose yourself." "I know that," replied Fyffe, "but I 
 might have sent there a man with a family to support, to 
 whom his death would have been a great loss, while I have 
 none dependent upon me; besides I can better give you the 
 exact information you desire," and he coolly continued his 
 report. 
 
 At that moment, the word having evidently been passed 
 along the rifle pits ashore, every Rebel in them arose, and 
 instead of shooting him, as could easily have been done, stood 
 presenting arms in salute, to express their admiration of the 
 daring and courage of the gallant Fyffe. 
 
 He told me afterward that a creepy feeling came over him 
 when he saw the heads of the riflemen arise, and that after 
 returning the salute he was glad to get down and out of the 
 danger. 
 
 He hated shams, cowardice, and hypocrisy, and despised 
 the man who praised himself; he was loyal to the best ethics 
 of his profession and to his brother officers. He fought his 
 vessels well, and as skilfully as he sailed them, and his favorite 
 phrase was, "I am a warrior and a gentleman, and my name 
 is Fyffe." 
 
 One habit he had, a bad one I admit, since it made many 
 kid-gloved and ladylike men think him uncourtly. It was that 
 of using great big swear words in the place of commas, semi- 
 colons and periods, to punctuate his various narratives. He 
 had a royal sense of good humor, and it was a never-ending 
 delight to me to listen to him as he told of his many experi- 
 ences ashore and afloat, for I understood him, and knew his 
 high sense of honor, his true heart, and his lovable disposition. 
 
 I recall one instance when we sat in the wardroom of the 
 old Minnesota, and he was spinning to me a yarn about his 
 being challenged to fight a duel by the French consul general 
 at Panama, which terminated in the flight of the Frenchman 
 the next day when Fyffe's second (a quartermaster from his 
 ship) handed to him, in the crowded reception room of the 
 local club, a written acceptance to fight with any weapon from 
 harpoon to howitzer. 
 
396 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 Fyffe's laughter at the recollection was evidently heard 
 through the open hatch above us by the crew, who were attend- 
 ing divine services, for I could hear the shuffling of their feet. 
 
 After the service, the chaplain, Salter, headed all the officers 
 down into the wardroom, and halting in front of us as we sat 
 there on the sofa, began: "Mr. Fyffe, I am surprised that 
 you, the executive officer of this ship, who should set the men 
 a good example always, should be thus a disturber of divine 
 service by your oaths and boisterous laughter." 
 
 I can see Fyffe's flashing eyes as he rose in his full six feet 
 one of height and exclaimed : "Stop just there, chaplain ! Stop 
 right there ! You know that you pray a good deal, and that I 
 szvear a great deal, but neither of us means anything by it." 
 
 The shout that went up from all hands covered the retreat 
 of the good old chaplain into his stateroom. 
 
 Yet in after days it was Fyffe, the tender-hearted, who sat 
 by the old chaplain as he was dying and comforted him with 
 words of gratitude for his faithful discharge of duty. 
 
 I think I may quote from a letter he sent to Deputy Auditor 
 Moore about the prevailing disposition of certain people to 
 have their doings paraded in the daily papers, a failing we 
 see much indulged in in these days. 
 
 After enumerating instances which particularly annoyed 
 him, he says, purporting to give his own obituary notice : 
 
 "Killed in battle on his birthday, Joseph P. Fyffe, sailor 
 and soldier. He was a son-in-law of Rev. Granville Moody, 
 the fighting parson. He was a lay inember of the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church — that is to say, he lay lozv and kept dark 
 except at times, when he broke out against the amazing hypoc- 
 risy, duplicity, and wickedness of his Methodist brothers and 
 sisters. He was a passable warrior; not much of a saint; 
 spoke English when he was sober, and could at all times swear 
 fluently in several languages. His charity began and ended 
 at home, though in war times, when he was strong enough to 
 take them, he was exceedingly generous with other people's 
 things. He was much loved by his neighbors, who were 
 always glad when he went to sea, and they heard the news of 
 his death with Christian resignation. 
 
 "The remains wrote this obituary himself to save any Metho- 
 dist the sin and trouble of writing and publishing in the West- 
 
"LEST WE FORGET" 397 
 
 em Christian Advocate any damned ridiculous lies about him 
 and his virtues." 
 
 Fyffe sent copies of this obituary notice to his respected old 
 father-in-law and to the journal he mentions, and they took 
 the hint. 
 
 The purpose of telling this story will be well attained if other 
 survivors of the war will record their more interesting recol- 
 lections, which should be given — 
 
 "Lest zve forget! Lest we forget!" 
 
THE FIGHT AT JONESBORO— A CAPTURE AND 
 
 ESCAPE 
 
 By Frank S. Roberts^ Co. C, 2D Georgia Battalion 
 Sharpshooters^ Army of Tennessee, C. S. A. 
 
 The battle of Atlanta had been fought (on July 22, 1864) 
 and the armies of General John B. Hood and General W. T. 
 Sherman were facing each other in front of Atlanta, on the 
 Peachtree Creek line. This continued for about a month, 
 when General Sherman began to extend his right, making it 
 necessary for General Hood to meet him. Accordingly our 
 corps, Lieutenant General B. F. Cheatham's (General Cheat- 
 ham had succeeded General Hardie in its command), was 
 ordered to move on the road from Atlanta to Jonesboro to 
 intercept him. Our division reached Jonesboro on August 
 31, 1804, "vvhere we were posted on the right. In the after- 
 noon we were ordered over to the left to support one of our 
 divisions, which had come in contact with the Union forces, 
 but we did not get into the action. After lying there all night, 
 we were ordered to occupy our old position, on the right, 
 which we did without delay, and went to w^ork at once to 
 throw up such breastworks as we could, without tools, to pro- 
 tect ourselves in the attack that was impending. About three 
 o'clock the Union batteries on our left began to give us shells 
 which whistled and exploded over our line. Our division 
 occupied the right of our line, my command, 2d Georgia Bat- 
 talion Sharpshooters, being on the left of the division, and 
 resting on the railroad cut (our line crossed the Central of 
 Georgia railroad). In our front was a heavy thicket of black- 
 jack oaks, from three to six inches in diameter. We did not 
 have long to wait, after the shelling from the battery, before 
 the Union line moved up in our front, advancing for the 
 
 398 
 
THE FIGHT AT JONESBORO 399 
 
 attack. We poured a terrific fire into them, as was witnessed, 
 after the battle, by the blackjacks that were literally cut down 
 by Minie bails. In our immediate front the railroad turned 
 to the right, so that the advancing line had to run down one 
 side of the railroad cut, then up the other. The 69th Ohio 
 Volunteers, 1 believe it was, came up in our front, and the 
 center of the regiment, with their colors, struck this place. 
 They came in gallant style, but alas for them, they could not 
 withstand our fire, and after five or six men had fallen, with 
 the colors, at this place, the regiment broke and ran, leaving 
 the colors where they fell. My brother, C. P. Roberts, adju- 
 tant of the sharpshooters, seeing the colors left on the field, 
 said, "Boys, I am going to have those colors." Suiting the 
 action to the words, he leaped over our works and made a dash 
 for them. Just as he was stooping to pick them up, another 
 line of Union troops hove in sight, and he was made a 
 prisoner. 
 
 We could see the line advancing after he left our ranks, 
 but he could not, being in the cut, and they were on him before 
 he knew it. Seeing he was an officer, he was taken to the 
 general's headquarters, where he was treated with every con- 
 sideration. 
 
 I never had any means of ascertaining their loss, but the 
 first line that came against us must have suffered terribly. We 
 were forced to fall back under the second attack, owing to 
 the fact that the position on our left had been carried, thus 
 giving the Union troops an enfilading fire upon us. We re- 
 formed our line in about a half an hour — it was then nearly 
 dark — and upon the order being given to "charge," we went 
 with a rush, and re-took our line, driving the Union troops 
 in confusion. 
 
 After regaining our works, I went out with First Sergeant 
 William Mulherin, of my company. First Sergeant Fayette 
 Taylor, of Company A, and one other (I cannot recall his 
 name), to where we had last seen Adjutant Roberts lying in 
 the railroad cut (we thought him dead or badly wounded 
 when we last saw him), with the intention of bringing his 
 body into our lines. But he was not there. I learned about 
 a week later that he had escaped injury, but was a prisoner. 
 He was taken to Atlanta, and from there taken to Chatta- 
 
400 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 nooga, Tenn., where he remained some days. On September 
 15th he left Chattanooga on a train, with a lot of other pris- 
 oners, bound for Camp Chase, Ohio. But he never reached 
 there. Late in the afternoon of that same day (September 
 15th) the train stopped at Estelle Springs, Tenn., to fill the 
 engine tender with water. Adjutant Roberts went to the 
 tender, with others under a guard, to fill his canteen, and 
 while standing between the tender and car, he jumped off, 
 and made a dash for the woods, effecting his escape. Then 
 began the problem of getting back into the Confederate lines, 
 through a territory occupied and patrolled by Union cavalry, 
 to say nothing of the bushwhackers that infested the county. 
 After many adventures and narrow escapes from recapture, 
 he regained our lines about the first of October. 
 
 Had my brother succeeded in bringing in those colors, it 
 would have been a great achievement. He was a gallant sol- 
 dier, brave almost to recklessness, having won promotion on 
 two fields of battle, and being commended in orders, for "con- 
 spicuous gallantry" and for "valuable assistance" to his com- 
 manding officer at the battle of Chickamauga, in September, 
 1863.^ 
 
 Adjutant Roberts died in Macon, Ga., ]\Iay 19, 1909, at 
 the home of his daughter, Mrs. Alexander Blair. 
 
 General Johnston was relieved of command of the army of 
 the Tennessee about July 15, 1864, and General John B. Hood 
 was given command of it. General Hardie was sent to Savan- 
 nah, and General B. F. Cheatham succeeded to his corps, and 
 after my brother's capture. I did not see him again until Gen- 
 eral Hood's army reached Corinth, Miss., in January, 1865, 
 after the disastrous campaign into Tennessee. 
 
THE JOY OF VICTORY 
 
 By Edward D. Litsey, Co. I, 31ST Regiment Indiana 
 Volunteers 
 
 I LEFT home on the morning of September 2, 1861, bade 
 farewell to an old father and mother at the front gate, and 
 with tears coursing down furrowed cheeks, and a fervent "God 
 bless you," and with a last kiss and hand clasp, they said, 
 "Of one thing be sure, don't get shot in the back." I went to 
 Terre Haute, where we were put in camp and mustered in. 
 Thence to Evansville, where we camped on the banks of the 
 Wabash, without tents or shelter of any kind. Our hair was 
 cut short, we were supplied with duck-bill caps, and we were 
 a sight to behold. We were enough to frighten the enemy 
 without firing a gun. Our necks were blistered, and the skin 
 of our noses peeled off, and with measles, whooping cough, 
 smallpox, etc., we began to realize that soldiering was not 
 very much like a vSunday school picnic. We next camped at 
 Calhoun, Ky., and fell heir to about all diseases which fall 
 to mankind. Vv^e went there with iot men, and came away 
 with less than 60. On the i6th we were sent farther up Green 
 River, to South Carlton, where we built breastworks. Two 
 weeks afterward Vv^e were on our way to Fort Donelson. We 
 landed six miles below the fort and moved up opposite to it. 
 Here we were ordered to stack arms, to build no fires, and to 
 keep our accoutermenls on. That night it rained and sleeted 
 and snowed, and we suffered exceedingly from the cold. On 
 the following morning we marched by the right flank, toward 
 the fort, over ground fought over the day before, and there 
 were large numbers of dead on the ground. Our guide led us 
 across a ravine, and up a ridge, at the top of which we found 
 the enemy, both in our front and rear, and as this was rather 
 new business for us, we silently apologized and walked out 
 
 401 
 
402 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 across the ravine, and formed on the hill in the rear of our 
 first line; then marched forward and ran into a masked bat- 
 tery. We lay down and let them fire over us a few times, and 
 then routed them out and drove them into the fort. As night 
 came on, the firing gradually ceased as if by consent, and we 
 were marched back half a mile, where we made camp, again 
 without shelter of any kind, having the cold wet ground for 
 our beds. 
 
 The next morning, Sunday, we fell in line, prepared for a 
 day of slaughter. W^e were thinking of the fallen heroes of 
 the day before, and of sorrowing hearts at home; we were 
 wondering how many of us would fall, when an aide came 
 galloping down the line with the news that Buckner had sur- 
 rendered. Oh the joy! the cheer! the gladness! Hats, caps, 
 clothing flew in the air. Each one seemed to be trying to 
 excel the other in manifestation of joy. The happiness of 
 our hearts can never be described. We were marched into 
 the fort and put on guard duty, and we found we had taken 
 14,000 prisoners and almost an incalculable amount of army 
 supplies of every kind. We felt that the death knell of the 
 Confederacy had been sounded. 
 
 We lost sixty-five in killed and wounded, and a goodly 
 number died the following week from exposure to the cold 
 and wet. 
 
 About one o'clock Monday morning, we were routed out, 
 and ordered to pack knapsacks and march. For two miles 
 we marched through stalk fields, in which we sank in the mud 
 from four to ten inches; one half the men threw away their 
 blankets and knapsacks ; those who lay down from exhaustion 
 had to be drawn out of the mud wnth great force, so deep 
 were they in. Some lay down with their knapsacks as a pillow, 
 and thev had to be left, so imbedded w^ere they in the mud. 
 
 While our losses in killed and wounded were very large, 
 we lost far more from sickness. 
 
AN INCIDENT OF THE BATTLE OF VICKSBURG, 
 MAY 22, 1863* 
 
 By Lieutenant Colonel Peter C. Hains^ U. S. A. 
 
 It is a matter of history that in the spring of 1863 the 
 Union cause passed through a period of deep depression. For 
 two long years the struggle for the Union had gone on with 
 little apparent progress, and the prospect was extremely 
 dismal. 
 
 At this time Major General U. S. Grant, commanding the 
 Army of the Tennessee, was operating in the vicinity of 
 Vicksburg. He fully appreciated the condition of affairs, 
 and with a spirit akin to that which actuated Washington when 
 he crossed the Delaware and defeated the British at Trenton 
 in 1776, resolved, in that firm and quiet manner so peculiarly 
 his own, to strike a blow that could not fail to revive the droop- 
 ing spirits of those battling for the life of the nation. 
 
 Vicksburg was the great stronghold of the Confederacy in 
 the West. It closed the navigation of the Mississippi River 
 to the people of the North, and protected a line of supply for 
 our enemies with the inexhaustible resources of Texas. To 
 capture this stronghold and open the Mississippi River to the 
 sea had been the dream of our best and bravest generals. For 
 months the energies of the Western Army had been directed 
 to that end, but thus far without success. 
 
 In April, 1863, the Army of the Tennessee, consisting of 
 three army corps — the Thirteenth, commanded by Major Gen- 
 eral John A. McClernard, the Fifteenth, by Major General 
 W. Tecumseh Sherman, and the Seventeenth, by Major Gen- 
 eral Tames B. McPherson — cut loose from its base of supplies, 
 and threw itself on the lines of communication of the enemy 
 
 *Through the kindness of Colonel Tweedale, U. S. A., Recorder of 
 the District of Columbia Commandery, Loyal Legion. 
 
 403 
 
404 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 with the audacity and confidence so characteristic of its great 
 commander. From a military point of view this movement 
 has been much criticised, but its perfect success is unquestioned. 
 
 We crossed the Mississippi River on April 30, 1803, ^^^^ 
 pushed rapidly into the interior of the State of Mississippi. 
 Within a period of eighteen days the Army of the Tennessee 
 met and vanquished the foe on the fields of Port Gibson, Ray- 
 mond, Jackson, Champion Hills, and Black River Bridge, so 
 that, when we closed in on Vicksburg that army felt itself 
 equal to any emergency. It is not strange our great com- 
 mander should have participated in that feeling. 
 
 An attempt was made on May 19th to carry the enemy's 
 lines, the strength of which had not yet been fully developed. 
 The attempt failed. There was great loss of life, but no want 
 of confidence. During the next two succeeding days the army 
 was pushed up closer to the enemy's works, and a second but 
 more determined effort made on May 22d. It resulted in a 
 second repulse, with still greater loss. The carnage was fear- 
 ful, but the heroism of the soldiers was magnificent. My 
 purpose in this paper is to relate briefly a single incident con- 
 nected with the battle — an illustration of the heroism that per- 
 vaded the rank and file of that army. 
 
 The morning of Ma)'- 22d dawned bright and warm, and 
 many a heart beat high with anticipation that a few hours 
 later beat no more. It was well understood that another 
 attempt would be made to carry the enemy's works by storm, 
 and many know from experience that those are words very 
 significant to the soldier. They mean more than the ordinary 
 command of "Forward!" To advance against an enemy in 
 the open field, with a chance of dealing blow for blow on fairly 
 equal terms, is very different from attacking him behind a 
 formidable line of fortifications. The latter is justified only 
 when the numbers or morale of the attacking force is equal 
 to the emergency. Without hesitation, the Army of the Ten- 
 nessee bravely responded to the order, and recoiled only after 
 it had expended its best blood in a futile effort, and proved 
 that the foe, sheltered behind their works, were too strong to 
 be dislodged in that way. 
 
 The Thirteenth Army Corps held the left of the line. It 
 
INCIDENT OF BATTLE OF VICKSBURG 405 
 
 consisted of the four magnificent divisions of Carr, Smith 
 (A. J.), Hovey, and Osterhaus. In Carr's division there was 
 a brigade commanded by Brigadier General M. K. Lavvler — 
 one of the most genial of men. His brigade was composed 
 of as fine a body of troops as ever appeared under arms. 
 Lawler was a thorough disciplinarian, though he had but little 
 regard for military appearance. On the march, in warm 
 weather, he generally appeared at the head of his brigade in 
 his shirt-sleeves and a straw hat, his uniform coat being rolled 
 up and strapped to the cantel of his saddle. 
 
 Lawler's brigade had proved its prowess when, on May 
 17th, it carried by storm a formidable line of earthworks cov- 
 ering the approaches to the bridge across the Big Black. On 
 the 22(1 its position in line of battle brought it directly in 
 front of one of the salients of the enemy's line of fortifica- 
 tions. These consisted generally of a system of strong 
 redoubts occupying the most advanced and commanding posi- 
 tions, and connected together by what are generally known 
 as "rifle pits." These rifle pits were in reality continuous light 
 infantry parapets, with the ditch in rear, that mode of con- 
 struction being often resorted to, either from the necessities 
 of the site or lack of time. 
 
 The redoubts referred to were more formidable. They 
 had the ditch in front, the parapets higher and thicker, and in 
 some cases traverses to cover from an enfilading fire. The 
 one in Lawler's front was located on a projectmg ridge or 
 spur, from which the surface of the ground sloped off m all 
 directions. In front of it was a ravine swept by the fire from 
 an adjacent part of the enemy's line. At a distance of 150 
 feet, more or less, from the salient of this redoubt was a ter- 
 race, or sudden depression on the surface of the ground, such 
 as one often sees in a garden located on the slope of a hill. 
 This terrace, which unfortunately was not more than 100 feet 
 in length, was taken advantage of, as far as practicable, by 
 a part of Lawler's command, and from this cover the most 
 advanced troops charged upon the redoubt. The latter was 
 three-sided, open in rear, and conformed to the surface of 
 the ground. The two long sides projected out toward our 
 line in a direction nearly perpendicular thereto, but drawn in 
 somewhat to the rear, making the gorge narrow. The third 
 
4o6 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 side, or face, more properly speaking, for it was the outer 
 one, was slightly oblique to our front, so that the angle nearest 
 to us was an acute one. Within the redoubt there were three 
 traverses, nearly parallel to the outer face, and consequently 
 nearly so to our line. They were designed solely for cover 
 from our enfilading fire, but they actually divided the redoubt 
 into three partially inclosed spaces, one behind the other, so 
 that the detachment in each one was almost entirely isolated, 
 the only means of communication being a narrow passage 
 between the rear end of the traverse and the interior slope 
 of the parapet. The detachment in one inclosure, being 
 fully occupied in defending its own front, had no time to 
 give assistance, even had it been known it was needed, in 
 the adjacent one. This fact has an important bearing on the 
 incident I am about to relate, which took place in the outer 
 inclosure, a space which, I should think, did not exceed i8 by 
 24 feet in area. 
 
 Our artillery during the two days preceding the assault had 
 been busy. It had dismounted or caused to be withdrawn 
 nearly every gun of the enemy in our front. A battery of 30- 
 pounder rifles did good service in this work. Its shot and shell 
 had battered the salient angle of the redoubt, and plowed deep 
 furrows in the parapet. But our shot had not injured the 
 earthen scarp-wall, seven feet high, and the parapet, seven and 
 a half more, to scale before the crest could be reached, while 
 from behind the latter and from the rifle pits on each flank the 
 enemy poured a withering storm of lead. 
 
 Some of the troops of Lawler's brigade got as far as the 
 ditch and a few got into the enemy's works, only to be killed 
 or captured. The ditch was soon filled with our men, who 
 made futile efforts to scale the parapet, but they had no lad- 
 ders, and the redoubt was well defended. They had climbed 
 up on each other's shoulders, and tried to effect a lodgment in 
 that way. It was in vain. Such a movement could not be 
 made in sufficient force. The strength of the assaulting 
 column was dissipated, and troops on other parts of the line 
 were kept too busy to lend a helping hand. Whenever a few 
 men reached the outer slope of the parapet, a few bullets 
 
INCIDENT OF BATTLE OF VICKSBURG 407 
 
 from the enemy in the adjacent rifle pits sent them roUing, 
 lifeless, into the ditch. 
 
 To add to the carnage, the enemy threw lighted 12-pounder 
 shells into the ditch, which burst among our men, scattering 
 death in all directions. Thus the struggle went on until their 
 numbers dwindled away to a mere handful, and these, when 
 they saw that relief was hopeless, yielded to the inevitable, and 
 tried to get back to our lines or laid down their arms. 
 
 Among the troops composing Lawler's brigade was the 22d 
 Iowa Volunteer Infantry, commanded by Colonel W. M. 
 Stone,* and in one of the companies of that regiment was a 
 young man, or rather boy, for he was only nineteen years of 
 age, named Joseph E. Griffith. He was a sergeant, I think, 
 in Company A. Sergeant Griffith was among the foremost in 
 the gallant charge of his regiment on the redoubt in Lawler's 
 front. Into the ditch he went with the men of his company; 
 up on the backs of the men, over the parapet, and into the 
 outer inclosure of the work. Others were with him, but 
 quicker than I can tell you, all his comrades were killed, and 
 he found himself alone, confronted by fifteen of the enemy 
 (a lieutenant and fourteen men), while all around him the 
 battle raged with hellish fury. Imagine that boy in such a 
 place, in presence of fifteen of the foe, and he, apparently, 
 deserted, or at least not followed by his comrades. Did it 
 occur to him to surrender? To yield to overwhelming num- 
 bers ? Far from it. His own piece had been discharged, and 
 so had those of the foe in front of him. What was he to do 
 under the circumstances ? The question was quickly answered, 
 for at his feet lay a small but loaded repeating rifle. I think 
 it was a Peabody sporting rifle. At any rate it was a small- 
 arm such as officers frequently carried into action, and doubt- 
 less had been dropped by an officer killed as they entered the 
 redoubt. Throwing himself prostrate on the ground, Griffith 
 grasped the rifle and aimed it at the officer in command, order- 
 ing him to lie down and make his men do likewise. There 
 was no time for parley. The officer obeyed, and down they 
 
 * The Editor was intimately acquainted with this brave Colonel. He 
 was afterward Governor of Iowa and still later the Commissioner of the 
 General Land Office in Washington, D. C. 
 
4o8 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 all went on the ground. Then Griffith crept backward on his 
 hands and knees in the furrows made by our artillery, keep- 
 ing his ride ready for instant service, till he reached the exte- 
 rior slope of the parapet. Here he stopped, and ordered the 
 officer to come out, creeping in the furrows as he had done. 
 
 One by one they crept out and dropped into the ditch, in 
 which at that time there were plenty of our men. Griffith 
 followed. His colonel then ordered him to take the prisoners 
 to General McClernard's headquarters. From the ditch to 
 the terrace was a short but dangerous run, and one prisoner 
 was killed in running this gauntlet of the enemy's fire ; conse- 
 quently when Griffith reported at headquarters, a few moments 
 later, he had only one lieutenant and thirteen privates as pris- 
 oners of war. 
 
 From the knoll on which we stood, I witnessed the gallant 
 attack on the redoubt. I knew that we had been repulsed, 
 though our men still tilled the ditch. For a time, however, I 
 could not understand how it was that prisoners were coming 
 into our lines from it. When Sergeant Griffith had his pris- 
 oners drawn up in line, and explained to General McClernard 
 the circumstances of their capture, substantially as I have nar- 
 rated, I turned to the captive oliicer and asked, "Is it true that 
 all you men surrendered to this boy in the manner he states ?" 
 For the first time, apparently, the officer realized the predica- 
 ment he was in. He colored, and in an insolent tone replied, 
 "What could we do? Fle got that loaded rifle, and ours had 
 all been discharged." 
 
 Thus occurred what I regard one of the most remarkable 
 cases of nerve and daring it was ever my fortune to witness. 
 
 I have only to add that when the circumstances were reported 
 to General Grant, he appointed Griffith an acting first lieu- 
 tenant, vice the first lieutenant of his company, who was killed 
 in the battle. The appointment was confirmed by the Gov- 
 ernor of his State, dating his commission May 22, 1863. He 
 continued in the service till October, when he was appointed 
 a cadet at the United States Military Academy, West Point, 
 from which he was graduated number five in a class of sixty- 
 three members, and appointed a second lieutenant of engineers. 
 
 Griffith was born in Wales, but came with his parents to 
 this country when very young. They settled in Iowa, and he 
 
INCIDENT OF BATTLE OF VICKSBURG 409 
 
 was a resident of that State when he first responded to the 
 call for troops to defend the Union. Cadet Griffith was a 
 fine-looking fellow, compact, muscular, and active, full of fun, 
 and a favorite with his comrades. Mentally he was bright, 
 as his standing in his class shows. As an officer of engineers 
 he served with credit on the survey of the northwestern lakes, 
 and on the improvement of the Mississippi River. In 1870 
 he resigned from the army and went into business. He died 
 in 1877. 
 
INCIDENT ON THE RAPPAHANNOCK IN WHICH 
 WELL-KNOWN MEN TOOK PART 
 
 By W. a. Barry, of Pennsylvania 
 
 This is a copy of a published extract which I found in a newspaper. I 
 wrote to the author, but received no reply. — Editor. 
 
 We have before us quite an interesting picture in colors. 
 It is a scene representing a group of Union soldiers encamped 
 on the bank of the Rappahannock River, doing picket duty. 
 The date is Christmas morning of 1862, just twelve days after 
 the battle of Fredericksburg. On the opposite side of the 
 river is another group of soldiers. They are also doing picket 
 duty, but for the Confederate army. 
 
 As far as these two picket posts are concerned, an armistice 
 has been declared. One of the Union soldiers has built a little 
 boat, and made a sail for it with his pocket handkerchief. 
 The little craft has been loaded with coffee and a piece of 
 paper placed in the boat upon w^hich is written : 
 
 "This is the Yanks' Christmas present to their enemies, 
 the Johnnies." 
 
 The small craft is seen making its v\^ay under sail across 
 the river. The Johnnies receive the boat, and in due time it 
 is returned loaded with tobacco, and a paper accompanying 
 it bearing the message: 
 
 "This is the Johnnies' Christmas greeting to their enemies, 
 the Yanks." 
 
 One of the boys who is seen warming his hands at the fire 
 is William Jones, who was superintendent of the Edgar 
 Thompson Steel Works, at Braddock, whose salary was 
 $50,000 a year. The boy sitting on the blanket with a tin of 
 coffee in his hands is George M. I>aughlin, late of the Jones 
 
 410 
 
INCIDENT ON THE RAPPAHANNOCK, ETC. 411 
 
 & Langhlin Steel Works. The boy standing up and waving 
 his cap is Henry M. Curry, of the Carnegie Steel Company. 
 These three boys worked their way up from the lowest to the 
 highest position, and did more for the iron and steel industry 
 than any other three men in the United States. 
 
 The boy standing up beside a comrade and pointing to an 
 object on the other side of the river is George Baer, who has 
 been, and is now, one of the most prominent men in the nation. 
 
THE NAVAL BATTLE IN ^lOBILE BAY 
 
 By E. R. Hutchins, Acting Assistant Surgeon, U. S. N. 
 
 I HAD served in the army as a private, a medical cadet and 
 as assistant surgeon from May, 1861, until after Burnsides' 
 Fredericksburg fight, and becoming a little tired of it, I 
 resigned, intending to return to my home in New Hampshire. 
 Reaching Philadelphia, I learned that the navy was in need 
 of medical officers, and so took the required examination and 
 received my commission as acting assistant surgeon. After 
 a year or more on the blockade — an exceedingly wearisome 
 life — we were ordered North, and I was transferred to the 
 Port Royal, then commanded by that hero of the Cumber- 
 land, whose ship went down, but with the old flag still flying. 
 
 "Remember, boys, this flag of ours 
 
 Has seldom left its place ; 
 And where it falls, the deck it strikes 
 Is covered with disgrace. 
 
 "I ask but this; or sink or swim, 
 Or live or nobly die, 
 My last sight on earth may be 
 To see that ensign fly." 
 
 Later, Commander Morris was detached, and Bancroft 
 Gherardi became the commander of the Port Royal. The 
 then Lieutenant Commander Gherardi afterward became 
 rear admiral, but has since passed into the beyond. 
 
 We were attached to the West Gulf Squadron and for 
 months lay off Mobile Bay. The officers and men, weary 
 with the monotony of blockade life, were eagerly anxious for 
 the long-promised fight. Two days before it occurred we 
 were ordered to Pensacola for coal, but in the early dawn of 
 August 5, 1864, we caught an indistinct view of the fleet as 
 we returned. The morning was foggy, but as we drew nearer 
 we were able to see that there was unusual activity among 
 the vessels. Upon reaching the flagship, the Hartford, we 
 
 412 
 
THE NAVAL BATTLE IN MOBILE BAY 413 
 
 were ordered alongside the Richmond and lashed to her port 
 side with chains. Then came the signal order, "Prepare for 
 battle." The preparations were soon made. Now the anchors 
 are weighed and the vessels are forming in line. As the 
 Hartford passes us, with the intrepid Farragut on her deck, 
 we give three rousing cheers, which are taken up by the entire 
 fleet, and cheer after cheer rings in the morning air. The fol- 
 lowing is the order of the vessels as they are in line to enter 
 the bay: 
 
 First, the Brooklyn with the Octorara on her port side; 
 second, the Hartford with the Metaconiet; third, the Rich- 
 mond with the Port Royal; fourth, the Lackawanna with the 
 Seminole; fifth, the Monongahela with the Kennebec; sixth, 
 the Ossipee with the Itasca; seventh, the Oneida with the 
 Galena. 
 
 Inside, and over the bar our ironclads, the Tecumseh, the 
 Manhattan, and the Chickasaw, have taken their positions on 
 the starboard side of the wooden ships, and are exposed to 
 the fire of Fort Morgan, and to the first attack of the iron- 
 clad Tennessee, the boasted pride of the Confederate navy. 
 On our right, two miles away, on Mobile Point is Fort 
 Morgan, with her sixty guns. On our left, on Little Dauphin 
 Island is Fort Gaines, with her thirty guns. West of this is 
 Fort Powell, with ninety-eight guns. \Vest of this, and out 
 of reach of harm, are 1500 Union soldiers under General 
 Gordon Granger. 
 
 The fog is lifting; it lacks fifteen minutes of six o'clock; 
 the anchors are lifted and we are under way. 
 
 Simultaneously, as if by magic, "Old Glory" streams from 
 every mast peak in the fleet. Oh, how the cheers ring out! 
 Slowly and cautiously we are steaming into the jaws of 
 danger. The Tecumseh, commanded by the gallant Craven, 
 fires the first shot — a 15-inch shell. The fort is silent. The 
 fleet steams proudly on, every flag flying in the sunlight, and 
 with as brave men as ever fleet possessed. A few moments 
 pass, and the first shot comes from the fort and falls short. 
 The Brooklyn answers. At this instant, the Rebel fleet, led 
 by the ram Tennessee, followed by the gunboats Selma, Mor- 
 gan, and Gaines, steam slowly around the point and stop, as 
 if waiting to meet us. 
 
414 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 The Tennessee is commanded by Admiral Buchanan, a 
 classmate of Admiral Farragut in the U. S. Naval Academy. 
 When within 1200 yards of the fort the firing becomes gen- 
 eral. The screech of the shot and shell is indescribable. 
 Shells scream over our heads and through our rigging and 
 plunge into the water. Those from our fleet fall on, and into, 
 the fort by hundreds. The Brooklyn and the Tecumseh are 
 still in the lead, closely followed by the Hartford. But, look ! 
 the Brooklyn has suddenly stopped, and just ahead of her a 
 vast upheaval of water is seen, and the Tecumseh, with her 
 commander and 1 10 men g^o down in the sea; a torpedo placed 
 in the channel by the enemy has done its deadly work. The 
 cry is heard, "The Brooklyn is backing!" and so she is, but 
 Farragut, having climbed part way up the rigging, in a clear 
 voice shouts, "Starboard!" and the Hartford's wheel officer, 
 quickly obeying the order, speedily changes the helm and the 
 Hartford passes the Brooklyn amid cheers from the fleet. A 
 boat is lowered from the Metacomet, and a few are rescued 
 from the Tecumseh, but the fleet moves on. Every starboard 
 and bow gun of the large vessels are sending their missiles 
 of destruction on the fort. It is one sheet of fire and one 
 awful boom of cannon. 
 
 "How they leaped, the tongues of flame, 
 From the cannon's fiery lips; 
 How the broadsides, deck and frame, 
 Shook the great ships." 
 
 Up to this time the Rebel fleet has been silent, but now 
 it commences a steady and annoying fire. The huge black 
 monster, the Tennessee, now dashes at the Hartford. Imag- 
 ine those old sea-dogs, Farragut and Buchanan, the best the 
 two navies had, two who, from early youth had been intimate 
 friends, the one fighting for and beneath the flag of his coun- 
 try, the other fighting against it. 
 
 A rope is placed around Farragut so that, if shot, he may 
 not fall on the deck, and up there in the rigging as calm as a 
 June morning, he controls the battle. 
 
 When the Rebel monster fails to injure the Hartford, every 
 heart is thankful to God. She now attempts to shove her ram 
 into the Brooklyn, for she is now following the Hartford, but 
 
THE NAVAL BATTLE IN MOBILE BAY 415 
 
 here too she fails because of the splendid maneuvering of her 
 commander, and then she makes the same attempt on the 
 starboard sides of the other vessels, but, strange to say, fails 
 in every trial, but her guns are doing deadly work. She 
 pours broadside after broadside along the whole line. As she 
 passes the Oneida, the last vessel in our line, she gives her a 
 terrible broadside, and one of her shells penetrates her boiler 
 and bursts, scalding many and shattering the arm of her 
 commander, Mulvaney. And now we have entered the bay; 
 we have passed the fort and the lashings which held the various 
 vessels together are severed. The Metacomet is the first to 
 cast off. She is the fastest boat in our fleet. The Tennessee, 
 like a sullen giant, runs under the fort as if to rest. She is 
 followed by the gunboats Morgan and Gaines. The Selma 
 has been struck by a shot from the Hartford and is fighting in 
 retreat up the bay toward Mobile. The Metacomet and our 
 vessel pursue her, the former in her wake while we attempt 
 to cross her bow. Both of us are constantly firing at the 
 fleeing Rebel and are slowly gaining on her. She is doomed, 
 and she sees it. A white flag goes up and she surrenders to 
 the Metacomet. The admiral signals for me to go on board 
 her and care for her wounded. I was soon alongside, went 
 up the gangway and my eyes met a sight I shall never forget. 
 I had seen hundreds of wounded and dead upon battlefields, 
 and had heard their moans and pleadings. But here was a 
 circumscribed place, a small vessel's deck, and it was literally 
 covered with dying, dead and wounded. 1 recall a touching 
 scene. A lad of sixteen w^as stretched on the deck, close to 
 death's gate. Our flag had been hoisted on the captured 
 vessel, and it was floating just above him. Looking up to it 
 he said, with a sweet smile on his pale face, "I am happier 
 now to die under that flag. I never liked the other, but I had 
 to come." His suffering soon ceased, and he died under the 
 flag that he loved the best. After caring for the imperatively 
 needy, I joined my vessel just in time to see the Tennessee 
 emerging from under the guns of the fort to renew the fight. 
 Slowly and steadily she comes. She seems like a huge, living 
 monster hungry for battle. She venomously pours out her 
 shot and shell. The Mononc/ahela rides down on her twice, 
 but without results, though the force is terrific. The Lacka- 
 
4i6 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 wanna follows with the same result. And now the Hartford 
 strikes her with full steam on, but only to receive the deadly 
 fire from her guns. The monitor Chickasaw keeps up a steady 
 and furious fire on her stern, and the Manhattan hurls her 
 15-inch shot upon her with terrible precision. As the Ten- 
 nessee is steered, so is the Chickasaiv, following literally in 
 her course, the heavy shot from her guns ceaselessly pounding 
 her, carrying away her smokestack, breaking in her port shut- 
 ters, and shattering her steering gear. No vessel could hold 
 out against such conditions, and after an hour of such pound- 
 ing, aided by solid shot and shell from the other vessels, she 
 raises a white flag and the firing ceases, and Buchanan sur- 
 renders to Farragut. 
 
 "From the first of the iron shower 
 Till we sent our parting shell, 
 'Twas just one savage hour 
 
 Of the war and the rage of hell." 
 
 One of the greatest naval battles of history had been fought, 
 and the Union cause had triumphed. 
 
 But victories like this are not won without the dark, sad 
 side. 
 
 The losses were as follows : 
 
 
 Union 
 
 Side. 
 
 
 
 Hartford 
 
 killed 
 
 25» 
 
 wounded 
 
 28 
 
 Brooklyn 
 
 
 II, 
 
 jj 
 
 43 
 
 Lackazvanna 
 
 
 4, 
 
 ,j 
 
 38 
 
 Oneida 
 
 
 8, 
 
 J, 
 
 30 
 
 Monongahela* 
 
 
 I, 
 
 ,, 
 
 6 
 
 Metacomet 
 
 
 I, 
 
 ,j 
 
 2 
 
 Ossipee 
 
 
 I, 
 
 ,» 
 
 4 
 
 Richmond 
 
 
 0, 
 
 >j 
 
 2 
 
 Galena 
 
 
 0, 
 
 >j 
 
 I 
 
 Octorara 
 
 
 I, 
 
 J, 
 
 10 
 
 Kennebec 
 
 
 I, 
 
 j> 
 
 6 
 
 Tec urns eh 
 
 
 93, 
 
 captured 
 
 4 
 
 Total, 145 killed, 170 wounded, 4 captured. 
 
 * This death is that of Lieutenant Pender, who died from his wounds. 
 
THE NAVAL BATTLE IN MOBILE BAY 417 
 
 Confederate Loss. 
 
 Tennessee 
 
 killed 2, 
 
 wounded 9, 
 
 captured 
 
 190 
 
 Sebna 
 
 " 8, 
 
 7, 
 
 j> 
 
 90 
 
 Gaines 
 
 " 2, 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 Morgan 
 
 " 0, 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 Total, 12 killed, 20 wounded, 280 captured. 
 
 Admiral Buchanan was seriously wounded in the leg. Our 
 vessels all came to anchor now, and in the quiet hush of that 
 summer night, with sorrowing yet thankful hearts, with appro- 
 priate exercises we buried the dead beneath the waters of the 
 bay. The damage done to the Hartford from the Selma, 
 which vessel raked her fore and aft and almost constantly, was 
 much greater than that received from the Tennessee. 
 
 During the night Fort Powell was abandoned by the enemy, 
 and in the early morning we ran up the dear old flag over its 
 deserted walls. On Sunday divine services were held on 
 each vessel, and the admiral's congratulatory order was read. 
 In the meantime the troops on Dauphin Island were slowly 
 investing Fort Gaines, and on the loth it surrendered to the 
 navy. When the news of this surrender reached us, every 
 vessel's rigging was manned by the sailors, and nine cheers 
 were given for the victory. The surrender was made to the 
 navy from choice of the enemy, they having the opportunity 
 of choice between the army and navy. This surrender gave 
 us 37 officers and 886 men as prisoners. After the naval fight 
 was over, we loaded all the wounded, including Admiral Buch- 
 anan and the others of the enemy, on the Metacomet, and 
 under a flag of truce she was sent to Pensacola. 
 
 On the 9th the troops on shore moved eastward and a 
 demand was made upon General Page, the Rebel commandant 
 of Fort Morgan, for its surrender. He was familiarly known 
 as "Bombast Page." He replied to this demand in his charac- 
 teristic manner. He said, "No, I consider you all my pris- 
 oners." The monitors and one or two of the wooden vessels 
 at once commenced firing on the fort. This was kept up at 
 irregular intervals until the 22d, when a general bombardment 
 began and the firing was almost incessant. That night a fire 
 was seen in the fort, and on the 23d the "Bombast" surren- 
 
4i8 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 dered. He was too proud to yield his sword as a true soldier 
 would do, and it was afterward found in a well within the 
 fort. The enemy had thrown 90,000 pounds of powder into 
 the cisterns. 
 
 The Union victory was now complete. Old Glory was 
 floating from Forts Morgan, Gaines, and Powell, and while 
 the gunboats Morgan and Gaines had escaped up the bay, the 
 boast of the Confederacy, — the Tennessee, — with the gunboat 
 Sehna alongside, lay at anchor near our fleet, and from them 
 also our flag floated in victory. 
 
FIFTY YEARS NEXT NOVEMBER 
 
 By John A. Hughes, Co. C, I2Th Arkansas Infantry, 
 
 C S. A. 
 
 I WITNESSED a tragedy at Columbus, Ky., one week after 
 the big fight at Behnont, Mo., across the river from the bluffs 
 above, or north of, Columbus. This was about the only fight 
 that Grant was defeated in during the war. 
 
 The old "Lady Polk," a pivot gun of large caliber, was 
 used across the river during the fight, and was left loaded a 
 whole week, and then General Leonidas Polk ordered it dis- 
 charged. He was standing on the parapet at the breech giv- 
 ing directions at the target up toward Cairo. I was standing 
 twenty feet away when the order to fire was given. I signaled 
 and ran to save concussion. When the smoke cleared away 
 all that was left of the gun crew was a battered mass of skin 
 and bones, except General Polk, who was badly stunned, 
 though otherwise unhurt. Ten men, formerly belonging to 
 the U. S. Regulars, were killed. 
 
 419 
 
A CONUNDRUM OF THE DAYS OF '64* 
 
 By Fred W. Mitchell, Captain Co. I, I2th Illinois 
 Cavalry 
 
 "Boots and saddles, boys — quickly and quietly ; no sabers — 
 only carbines and revolvers, and plenty of ammunition!" 
 
 The order came shortly after the bugle had sounded "lights 
 out," and wt knew from the major's stern tones that some- 
 thing especially strange had occurred — something unusual 
 even for that exciting post and period. 
 
 It was the old story, only a little more harrowing in its 
 details this time. A recent graduate of one of our New 
 England colleges, chafing under his physician's restrictions 
 which forbade his enlisting to fight for the flag, had lately 
 moved into this La Fourche country in order that, while reap- 
 ing for himself the benefits of a more salubrious climate, he 
 and his youthful bride might, by helping the poor, ignorant 
 freedmen in their struggle for more light and knowledge, 
 identify themselves in some way with their country's glorious 
 cause. Although they had been there but a few months, the 
 young couple had already discovered that their Southern home 
 was by no means reared amid a bed of roses. 
 
 Hopeful, however, that time would alleviate the bitterness 
 with which they were received, they asked no favors, but 
 quietly and conscientiously devoted all their energies to the 
 work to which they had dedicated themselves. 
 
 We had heard rumors that a party of guerrillas had been 
 committing depredations in the adjoining parishes, and had 
 
 ♦This is another paper which was read a number of years ago before 
 the Commandery of Loyal Legion in Washington, D. C, by Captain 
 Mitchell and by him given to me for this book. — Editor. 
 
 420 
 
A CONUNDRUM OF THE DAYS OF '64 421 
 
 threatened to "clean out all the damned abolition school- 
 teachers this side of New Orleans" ; but partly because rumors 
 of all kinds were the order of the day, and partly from fancied 
 security, no especial precautions had been taken. 
 
 That evening a party — we never learned how many, whence 
 they came, or whither they went, except that they must have 
 crossed the bayou, about four miles from that settlement — 
 had surrounded the house where this couple lived, had entered 
 their bedroom, had ordered the man to arise, and then, in 
 the presence of his young bride, had, without shrift or mercy, 
 murdered him in cold blood, riddling his body with bullets, 
 and with horrid curses had told his poor young wife, as she 
 threw herself across his bleeding body, that all the damned 
 abolitionists would be served the same way if they came down 
 from the North to teach their niggers that they were better 
 than white men. 
 
 We rode the ten miles without slackening rein or sparing 
 spur — but all too slowly; the cowardly assassins had vanished 
 amid the swamps and bayous, and the little hamlet lay peace- 
 ful in the moonlight. Upon being awakened and questioned, 
 the good, kind citizens would not admit that any such crime 
 could possibly have been committed. 
 
 Lieutenant C, with twenty men, pushed directly down the 
 cross-road to the large lake which lay about four miles north 
 of the town, while the rest of us encamped, temporarily, in a 
 field adjoining one of the residences, and at the beginning of 
 this cross-road. The men took the bridles from the horses' 
 mouths, and, sitting down along the fences, many of them 
 probably dozed. In company with the major and my own 
 lieutenant, each of whom soon fell asleep, I stretched myself 
 out on the l^ack porch of the house, and perhaps for ten or 
 fifteen minutes let my thoughts wander at will. 
 
 Suddenly, clearly and distinctly, was heard the well-known 
 sound of the movement of a large force of infantry — so close 
 as to cause every nerve to tingle with shame at the thought 
 that we were to be surprised, and perhaps beaten because 
 surprised. Yet simultaneously came the reflection that if the 
 men would only keep down, protected as they were by the 
 fences, we would repel any reasonable number of the attack- 
 ing party, and possibly surprise them in turn. As we were 
 
422 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 armed with the Spencer repeating carbine, at that time ahnost 
 unknown in that region, I felt less fear of the result. Reach- 
 ing out my hand, without speaking, I woke the major and 
 lieutenant, who evidently at once heard the same sound and 
 doubtless shared my feelings, for the major quickly drew his 
 revolver, and raised it as if to fire the moment the attack 
 should be made. Remember, not a word had passed. He 
 then whispered the order, "Captain, get the men in line, but 
 tell them to keep down behind the fence." I crept down the 
 yard, and as I passed around, said, "Form in line to repel 
 charge — keep dozvn!" It seemed as if all the men understood 
 the situation at once. Already those on the farther side of the 
 yard were creeping across, with carbines advanced, and I 
 found those on the side near the lane ready and in evident 
 expectation. One large, jolly Irishman, who had been with 
 me in many a close fix, said, "I guess we'll catch hell this time. 
 Captain !" 
 
 I tire you with these details simply to show you that this 
 unexplained reminiscence could have been no hallucination. 
 
 The sound increased, and there seemed to be no further 
 need of silence on our part. The major's voice rang out, 
 "Over the two fences, boys, and form in the farther field!" 
 I remember I vaulted the two fences — expecting to be shot in 
 the act — and knelt down about twenty feet beyond the second 
 one, and called to the men to form iDehind me. We formed 
 and waited, the sound seemed to be dying aw^ay. Thus far, 
 the movements had not been made in a very military manner, 
 for the chief object had been to face the enemy and repel their 
 attack. After a few moments of waiting, the major ordered 
 me to take a half-dozen of my best men and pass rapidly 
 across the field, saying that he would follow within support- 
 ing distance. In less than ten minutes the entire command 
 was in line on its farther side, and the grass plainly showed 
 that ours w^ere the first footsteps that had crossed the field. 
 Not a breath of air was stirring, and the stillness was now 
 almost painful in its intensity, being broken only by the re- 
 pressed breathing of the men as they blankly looked into each 
 others' faces. There was no chaffing among them, as is usually 
 the case when led on what they think a wild-goose chase. In 
 conversation with many of them afterward, they all declared 
 
A CONUNDRUM OF THE DAYS OF '64 423 
 
 that they distinctly heard the sound, and described it as the 
 "swish-swash" of a large body of men marching rapidly 
 through heavy grass and directly down upon us. 
 
 The most natural explanation of the phenomenon that we 
 could then conjecture was that by some wonderful echo we 
 had, in our excitement, mistaken the noise of the return of 
 our small cavalry force for the marching of a considerable 
 body of infantry, and I looked at my watch to note the time. 
 It was just twenty minutes past eleven, 
 
 A small force was detailed to remain on the farther side of 
 the field, with directions to send one or two still farther 
 beyond. These latter reported, on their return, impenetrable 
 swamps in that direction — impenetrable, at least, to men 
 marching by columns. 
 
 At I A, M. Lieutenant C. returned with his squad. He 
 reported that they had neither seen nor heard an enemy, 
 though there were plenty of footprints along the lake shore. I 
 at once asked him if he knew at what time he left the bayou. 
 He answered, "We arrived there at eleven, waited and hunted 
 around for half an hour, and left there about midnight." So, 
 while we were skirmishing in the field, he was at least four 
 miles away, at nearly a right angle to the direction from which 
 the sound we had heard had come to us. 
 
 An old soldier seldom mistakes other sounds for those made 
 by marching troops, yet in this instance there were a good 
 threescore veterans whose accounts for the most part agreed. 
 
 When any of us have since met to talk over old times, we 
 have asked each other, as we asked that night, and as I now 
 ask you, 
 
 "What manner of noise was that?" 
 
INCIDENTS OF LEE'S LAST STRUGGLE— THE 
 BATTLE OF SAILOR'S CREEK* 
 
 By Archibald Hopkins, Lieutenant Colonel 37TH Mas- 
 sachusetts Infantry 
 
 It has happened very rarely that anyone has been so placed, 
 either as spectator or participant, as to be able to see and to 
 describe a battle. Some minor engagements, perhaps, with 
 small contending forces, may have come under observation in 
 such a way as to enable the looker-on to say he saw it, but 
 anything worthy to be called a battle must be of such pro- 
 portions and generally upon such ground as to render this 
 impossible, and descriptions of battles are made up, as a rule, 
 from what many persons saw and from the results. 
 
 In writing something of the battle of Sailor's Creek, it is 
 not my purpose to attempt a description of that conflict, but 
 simply to give some account of the part the 37th Massachu- 
 setts Regiment took in it, and to recall some of the impressions 
 and experiences of what was, though of short duration, to us 
 a memorable struggle. On April 2d we had been in the front 
 line of the assaulting column at Petersburg, which carried the 
 heavily fortified works at Fort Fisher, and had captured two 
 guns and a battle-llag. On the 3d, 4th and 5th our corps 
 having been — so we were told at the time — attached to Gen- 
 eral Sheridan's command by his special request, was making 
 forced marches, keeping up with the cavalry in that relentless 
 pursuit inspired and led by him, and which no one can doubt 
 was the secret of final success. The weather had grown very 
 warm for the season, and after the first halt the ground for 
 acres was covered with overcoats, extra blankets and clothing, 
 
 * By permission, from Harper's Weekly. Copyrighted by Harper & 
 Brothers. 
 
 424 
 
INCIDENTS OF LEE'S LAST STRUGGLE 425 
 
 and various little comforts with which even the oldest soldiers 
 sometimes began a campaign, but which were gradually dis- 
 carded, till only the barest necessities remained. On the 6th 
 we had already covered nearly twenty miles, when about two 
 o'clock, rapid artillery firing was heard in front, and an order 
 to double-quick told us that there was work ahead. A hard 
 three miles' run followed, the men dripping and panting under 
 their loads, but determined to be in at the death ; for everyone 
 felt that the end was at hand. 
 
 At the first sound of the artillery in advance, they began, 
 without orders, to fill the magazines of their Spencer rifles as 
 they moved along. The Spencer, at that time, was by far the 
 best weapon in use — not so heavy as the Springfield, and sur- 
 passing it in range and precision; firing seven shots to the 
 Springfield's one, it made the regiments armed with it equal 
 twice their number, not only from their increased destructive 
 power, but from the added confidence it gave, and from the 
 fear the enemy had of it. One of the prisoners who was 
 taken on our front at Berryville in the Shenandoah Valley 
 said to a comrade as they passed to the rear, looking askance 
 at one of the smoking pieces as he spoke, "There's one o' them 
 damned guns," and their theory was that we loaded up Sunday 
 and fired all the week. The 37th was the only regiment in the 
 corps that had them, and it got a good deal of extra duty in 
 consequence. 
 
 As we came to the top of a long slope, there began an 
 immediate easy descent, running down to the creek, a winding, 
 sluggish stream; and then an ascent, rather sharper than the 
 one we had passed, covered with a dense growth of young 
 pines, and intersected with deep gullies, cut out of the clay 
 by heavy rains. At the top of the first slope, in a field to the 
 left of the road, near an old barn, was Sheridan, on his black 
 horse, talking to Wright, and I saw him make a gesture, with 
 his palm turned to the front, that said unmistakably that 
 whatever opposed us on the hill opposite was to be pushed out 
 of the way. As the men recognized him, a rattling cheer went 
 down the line such as no other man could evoke from our 
 corps; for he had given us the inspiration and enthusiasm of 
 repeated victory in the Shenandoah, and every man felt and 
 implicitly trusted his splendid leadership. 
 
426 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 His cavalry had cut off the principal wagon train of Lee's 
 army, and Stonewall Jackson's old corps, now commanded 
 by Ewell, had been put in position to check our pursuit, and 
 to save the train if possible. General Kershaw was on the 
 right of their line, Custis Lee on the left, and the naval bat- 
 talion, made up of picked men from the abandoned gunboats 
 at Richmond, and clothed and equipped in the best English 
 fashion, was in the rear of Lee's right, in reserve. 
 
 We began to move down the hill in column of wings, but 
 deployed into line of battle, and threw out skirmishers before 
 we reached the creek, which was barely fordable, being up 
 to our armpits. After crossing, the line was reformed, and 
 the regiment moved by the flank a short distance to the right, 
 and then the order was brought us by Colonel Tom Colt, rid- 
 ing as jauntily and as coolly as on parade, to charge up the 
 hill. The growth of young pines was so dense that it was 
 impossible to see more than the length of the regimental line, 
 or to tell whether our connection on the right or on the left 
 was maintained. Just here Chaplain ]\Iorse, whose place was 
 in the rear with the ambulance, appeared in front of the line, 
 and it took a peremptory order to send him back; he was a 
 Methodist minister, whom we had chosen from the ranks as 
 our chaplain, and though always faithful in the duty to w^hich 
 he had been unexpectedly called, he could never forget that he 
 had come out to fight. We were now moving steadily up the 
 hill, and stray bullets began to fly too plentifully to be pleasant. 
 As we pushed on, I saw Sergeant Cowles as he fell, shot 
 through the body, wave his hand and cheer on the men with 
 his last breath. Instinctively we felt that a few steps more 
 would precipitate a bloody fight; but the line did not waver, 
 nor was there any flinching or skulking, the soldierly discipline 
 and steadiness which General Edwards had infused into the 
 regiment while its colonel, standing it, as often before, in good 
 stead. 
 
 In a moment, as we rose to the crest, a crashing volley from 
 an enemy still invisible tore through the pines over our heads. 
 The misdirected aim was most fortunate for us, for the men 
 held their fire like the veterans they were, and before the 
 enemy could reload, we were close u])on them, with but few 
 vacancies in our ranks. Then, at the word, every man poured 
 
INCIDENTS OF LEE'S LAST STRUGGLE 427 
 
 in seven shots from his Spencer, at easy speaking distance and 
 with deadly effect. Large numbers fell, killed and wounded, 
 many came in and gave themselves up, some escaped, and all 
 semblance of organization or opposition melted away from our 
 front, and disappeared. Flushed with success, we moved 
 steadily to the front, a distance probably of 300 yards, when, 
 the growth becoming less dense, it appeared that we had no 
 support on either flank. Just at this juncture Custis Lee 
 moved part of his command, comprising the naval battalion, 
 through one of the deep gulches spoken of, around our right, 
 and about half the length of the regiment in our rear. We 
 discovered the movement just in time to face about, and in a 
 moment it was hand to hand, and a brief struggle for the 
 mastery ensued with musketry at arm's length, officers fighting 
 with clubbed muskets and pistols, and the bayonet, and the 
 cutlasses of the sailors coming into free use for the first time 
 in our experience. Clouds of sulphurous smoke soon obscured 
 everything not close at hand, and it was as these opened and 
 shifted that I had glimpses of battle groups and scenes which 
 will always remain in my memory. One, just a momentary 
 glimpse seen and lost too soon to know the result, of a power- 
 ful officer in gray with clubbed musket raised to strike down 
 Captain Chandley, who had a Spencer rifle himself, and was 
 cocking it to fire. Another, of a flaming Rebel battle-flag 
 planted in the ground a few feet away, the center of a des- 
 perate struggle. A blue-coated sergeant seized it with deter- 
 mined grasp, only to fall fatally wounded beneath its folds, 
 when a plucky little fellow, whom I recognized through the 
 smoke as Private Taggart, of Co. B, wrested it from its hold, 
 and carried it safely to the rear. The battle was now at its 
 height. Blue and gray mingled in a confused mass, swayed 
 back and forth in the eddying smoke and fierce cries of "Down 
 with 'em!" "Give 'em hell !" and the clashing of crossed bayo- 
 nets could be heard rising above the sound of the musketry. 
 The intense excitement swallowed up all sense of danger, and 
 every man fought more than A^alorously — almost with savage 
 fury. Meanwhile our Spencers had again given us the advan- 
 tage, and the enemy's force, broken into confused groups, 
 was driven back into the little ravine, through which they had 
 come, in a huddled mass. We gathered at its mouth, and gave 
 
428 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 them such a terrible raking fire that they soon began to show 
 white handkerchiefs in token of surrender, and our firing 
 ceased. 
 
 The adjutant, John S. Bradley, of Lee, a gallant soldier, 
 always at the front, as the musketry lulled, demanded the 
 sword of a Rebel officer near whom he was standing, when 
 the officer, without a word, put his pistol to the adjutant's 
 breast. He saw the movement just in time to knock the pistol 
 aside, when they grappled, and rolled over each other down 
 into the ravine, the officer discharging his pistol into the adju- 
 tant's shoulder as they went. A Rebel soldier also shot him 
 through the thigh, and in an instant more his antagonist would 
 have dispatched him with another pistol shot, when Private 
 Eddy, of Co. B, who had been watching his chance, as Brad- 
 ley's assailant came uppermost, shot him dead. He had hardly 
 fired when a powerful "Grayback" thrust him through the 
 body with a bayonet, the point coming out near the spine, and 
 he was thrown down and pinned to the ground. His antago- 
 nist then tried to wrest his Spencer from him, but he clung to 
 it desperately, and in spite of the terrible disadvantage of his 
 position, succeeded in firing another shot, which was fatal to 
 his brave and determined enemy. The Rebel fell upon him as 
 he lay, but he thrust his body aside, pulled out the bayonet 
 which transfixed him, and staggered to the rear, where he 
 was cared for and finally recovered. After this, of course, 
 we opened fire again, with deadly effect, and they gave up this 
 time in earnest. General Custis Lee surrendered at the muzzle 
 of Corporal David White's rifle, and we sent to the rear with 
 him and his staff, nearly 300 prisoners, and a silk flag belong- 
 ing to a crack Savannah battalion, besides the battle-flag 
 already spoken of. Seventy dead were taken from the ravine, 
 and the ambulance men said that they had never seen them 
 piled up in such heaps anywhere. During the fight, a corporal 
 who was noted for his quiet promptitude and unvarying good 
 behavior, becoming a little separated from the main command, 
 found himself confronted by a Rebel officer, whose surrender 
 he demanded. The officer refused and the corporal fired, 
 shooting him through the body. As he fell, the corporal bent 
 over him and told him he was sorry he had to shoot him, and 
 that he was a Christian, and if he wished it, he would pray 
 
INCIDENTS OF LEE'S LAST STRUGGLE 429 
 
 with him. The officer eagerly assented, and the corporal knelt 
 by his side amid the drifting smoke and the shouts and groans 
 of the combatants and offered a fervent prayer for the parting 
 soul of his dying foeman, hostile no longer. When he had 
 finished, they shook hands, and the officer gave the corporal 
 his sword as a memento, and asked him to write to his wife 
 and tell her what had befallen him. They then bade farewell ; 
 and the corporal, v;ho had been made a target of by the Rebels 
 under the impression that he was rifling the officer's body, 
 picked up his Spencer and went on firing. 
 
 An Irish corporal, whose brother had been killed on the 
 parapet in the assault on Petersburg a few days before, con- 
 cealed himself in a thicket, and killed nine Rebels during the 
 fight. When it was over, he said, 'T don't know as it would 
 help poor Mike any, but somehow / feel easier about the 
 heart." 
 
 Some men were always having narrow escapes. We had a 
 sergeant who was famous for them. I met him just after this 
 fight, and said, "Well, Sergeant, have you had your usual 
 scratch ?" He pushed up his cap in reply, and I saw the blood 
 trickling down his temple, which had been grazed by a bullet 
 
 It was past three o'clock when we struck the enemy, and as 
 the shadows fell, and the evening breeze rose and sighed a 
 requiem through the swaying pines, all sounds of conflict had 
 died away, and we made our bivouac close at hand. It was 
 an exultant band that gathered with torn garments and black- 
 ened faces about our camp fires, recounting to one another in 
 husky voices the varied incidents of the fight, and almost every 
 man had some trophy of the field. But the hour of victory, 
 as must always be the case for those who help to bring it on, 
 was saddened by the loss of many of our bravest, most tried 
 companions, who, could they have survived that day the last 
 battle of the war, might have "come marching home" with 
 the rest of us. It had been a glorious victory all along the 
 line, resulting in a loss to Lee's crumbling and disrupted army 
 of about 8000. Who can fail to admire the splendid manhood 
 and courage of men who, after such a march as they had 
 made, almost without food, with disaster upon them, and 
 defeat inevitable, could make such a stand as they did at 
 Sailor's Creek, or to rejoice that they with their children are 
 
430 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 back again with us and ours under the old flag that waved 
 triumphant on that bloody day ? Three days later came Lee's 
 surrender, and the campaigns of the Army of the Potomac 
 were ended. 
 
 Mr. W. F. Cameron, a participant in this battle on the 
 Southern side, subsequently Governor of Virginia, has lately 
 written an account of the final campaign, from which I take 
 the following extract referring to Sailor's Creek: 
 
 "But the main body of the army, consisting of Ewell's, 
 Anderson's, and Gordon's commands, accompanied by Rooney 
 Lee's division of cavalry, were annoyed from the early morn- 
 ing by flank attacks from Sheridan. In the early afternoon 
 these attacks became so serious that Anderson was compelled 
 to halt and go into line of battle, and this enabled Meade's 
 Sixth corps to close up on Ewell's corps at Sailor's Creek, and 
 the Confederates were thus brought to bay by assaults on three 
 sides. Ewell was crushed — destroyed. Anderson's turn came 
 next, and his thin lines were mashed up like an egg-shell's 
 walls. The Federals took nearly 7000 prisoners, including 
 Ewell and most of his general officers. Gordon pushed on, 
 Humphreys contesting every inch of his progress, and finally 
 shook off his pursuer, after losing his trains, some guns, and 
 nearly 2000 prisoners. The affair at Sailor's Creek was 
 really a finish to any further effective work by the Confederate 
 army. Two corps were put hors de combat, and the third was 
 so badly crippled as scarcely to equal a strong brigade of the 
 opposing army. Many interesting incidents marked this fight. 
 In certain parts of the field the combat was a hand-to-hand 
 melee. An eye-witness tells that after Ewell's guard had been 
 broken down, the Federals surrounded a small body of troops 
 near the creek. Here they encountered the marine corps from 
 Drewry's Bluff, and the sailors from the Confederate fleet, 
 under the command of Admiral John R. Tucker. The gallant old 
 sea-dog gave the command to 'prepare to repel boarders,' and 
 my informant says it was a sight to see himself and men going 
 through the motions of 'cut right' and 'cut left' with their cut- 
 lasses." 
 
 As stated by Governor Cameron, the battle of Sailor's Creek 
 was the end of any effective resistance on the part of Lee's 
 army. Nevertheless, the pursuit was vigorously pushed on 
 
INCIDENTS OF LEE'S LAST STRUGGLE 431 
 
 the 7th and 8th, and on the morning of the 9th, leading the 
 advance of the Sixth corps with my regiment toward Appo- 
 mattox, a staff officer brought me an order to halt, and we 
 lay down beside the road to await events. There had been 
 rumors of surrender, and when the news came that Lee had 
 indeed given up, there followed a scene of wild rejoicing and 
 exultation such as has been seldom witnessed. 
 
 Badly led, thwarted, outgeneraled, and flung back, the Army 
 of the Potomac had for years with heroic courage and endur- 
 ance struggled toward its goal, and it is not strange that when 
 it realized that the last shot had been fired, that it would soon 
 turn its face homeward, with the honors and trophies of vic- 
 tory, and that the Union for which it had fought was forever 
 safe, it went wild with joy. 
 
 But one thing occurred to dampen our enthusiasm. We 
 had all read and seen pictures of the formal surrender of 
 captured armies, and we expected that Lee and his veterans 
 would march out and lay down their arms as Cornwallis 
 did at Yorktown. We thought it was due to our Ions: and 
 arduous service that we should see its results, and when 
 we found we were to be faced about, and marched northward, 
 without even a glimpse of our late enemies, there was much 
 murmuring and discontent. But General Grant was much 
 wiser and greater than all of us. He knew how we felt, but 
 he knew also that we and the men of the South were thence- 
 forth to be countrymen again, and his magnanimous soul 
 refused to subject Lee and his army to any humiliation that 
 could be avoided. It was an evidence of true greatness and 
 we see now that he was right.* 
 
 *The Editor feels under deep obligations to Colonel Hopkins for the 
 foregoing article. The tie that has bound us together as friends and 
 classmates from long ago has been strengthened by this act of courtesy. 
 The greater part of the article was published many years ago in Harper's 
 Weekly. — Editor. 
 
A REMARKABLE PLEA TO THE SOLDIERS OF THE 
 
 TRANS-MISSISSIPPI— A SOUTPIERN WOMAN 
 
 GLORIES IN REBELLION 
 
 By Mrs. M. J. Young, Houston, Tex. 
 
 My friend and comrade, Captain J. S. Clark, sends to me the following 
 remarkable "proclamation" by a Southern woman. In his letter he says, 
 "I was with my regiment in Houston, Tex., during the summer of 1865, 
 after the war, having been sent there to assist in establishing the Pro- 
 visional Government. 
 
 "Houston was a rich old town, never visited by either army. Rebel to 
 the core, and did not know the South was conquered. Among other inter- 
 esting characters there was a Mrs. M. J. Young, a widow, with one son, 
 just a lad. but in the Confederate Army. She was loyal and devoted to 
 the Southern cause. When she learned that the Confederates were weaken- 
 ing and heard talk of capitulation, she threw her whole soul into the 
 cause. She gave me a copy of her last appeal to the soldiers of the Trans- 
 Mississippi, General Kirby Smith, commander. He had it read before his 
 army shortly before the final surrender. I enclose you the copy she gave 
 me." — Editor. 
 
 "Infirm of purpose, give me the daggers," is now the heart- 
 thought of every woman in the land, when she sees those who 
 have been styled our heroes, our defenders, growing weary 
 of the contest and relaxing the arm that justice and truth and 
 vengeance should nerve while there is a brain to think or a 
 pulse to quiver. Shall we weary, whose land through its mighty 
 extent, from the Sabine to the Rio Grande, from the mountains 
 to the sea, bears upon its bosom a thousand battlefields, and 
 yet not one uncrowned by victory? The ruins of whose Alamo 
 still stand consecrated by the blood of meti who could die, but 
 knew not the word of surrender? Whose San Jacinto, last 
 born of all, the triumph of the Republic, still looks with unsul- 
 
 432 
 
A REMARKABLE PLEA, ETC. 433 
 
 lied honor up to God, — and whose silvery stream, in its journey 
 to the open sea, kisses the brow of Galveston, the first-born of 
 the victories of the State of Texas? Shall we who have such 
 memories, — such a past, — now with a hundred thousand men, 
 with a Smith, a Magruder, a Walker and a thousand other 
 glorious leaders, of all ranks, talk of making terms, of grow- 
 ing weary — of reconstruction? Oh Earth, open and take us 
 to thy dark bosom ! Oh Heaven, fall and crush us into 
 oblivion ! 
 
 But why do I write this? I am mad, my countrymen. 
 The pride for land and liberty has made me mad. The possi- 
 bility of your honor being soiled, of the glorious fame of our 
 grand State being shadowed, has frenzied me, and I have 
 dared suppose a thing concerning you, that were I a man, your 
 daggers' hilt should be made to drink my heart's blood for the 
 insult. Upon my knees I implore again forgiveness. I have 
 faith in you; confidence you will never, never submit to the 
 Yankee voke, the Yankee chain. The world for four years 
 has stood entranced; every eye fixed upon the "blue starry 
 cross" blazing and burning vvith ever-growing glory upon a 
 hundred victorious plains; and from the pennant floating be- 
 neath the spear head, they have read the proud names of the 
 men who were defending it, — "Hood's Texas Brigade." 
 These men, some of whom will go clown to latest posterity 
 embalmed in renown, others be known as the "nameless demi- 
 gods," but no less grand because unrecorded, have been bat- 
 tling, bleeding, and dying in Virginia, that the horrors of war, 
 the desecration of the Yankee presence should never be allowed 
 to enter the beautiful boundaries of their beloved State. Now 
 they are returning, a little handful of wearied, battle-scarred, 
 maimed men, but with hearts bold as lions and with scorn for 
 cowards burning in their tyrant-hating eyes that will consume 
 you as they gaze upon you if you are not also brave, and true, 
 and determined and resistful. 
 
 They have excused you, they have brought no railing accu- 
 sations against you for not coming to help defend Virginia, 
 but they will curse you with the curse of outraged patriots if 
 they find vou faltering in defending your altars and firesides, 
 your own land, your own mothers and sisters. The height 
 upon which they stand — the mount of sacrifice, washed by the 
 
434 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 blood of four-fifths of their gallant band, will elevate them 
 into office of recording angels and judges, to note your deeds 
 and to hurl upon you curses that shall burn through flesh and 
 bone, and sear your very heart and brain. In Northern dun- 
 geons are thousands of our brave men shut out from the light 
 of God's bright sun, with cheeks pale with confinement and 
 the loss of the sweet balmy breezes of Heaven's free air — 
 living upon food that the very cur dogs in our streets would 
 refuse, yet with hearts as firmly riveted upon Liberty as the 
 tyrant's chains are upon their limbs, with souls as unsubdued, 
 with wills as unyielding, and revenge as unrelenting as the 
 stones they tread. 
 
 Shall you, under the broad glare of the summer sun, with 
 flowers blooming and birds caroling, in the very sight of your 
 own cottage smoke, and in hearing of your children's glad 
 prattle, be less true than they? It cannot be. Rise up in the 
 strength and majesty of your cause, in your numbers, in your 
 glorious countrymen whose deeds have made the name of 
 Hood, Granbury, Ector, and others ring upon the ear like 
 the sound of a battle trumpet, triumphant, proud, and thrill- 
 ing; rise in your devotion to your homes, to your women, and 
 no more "for foreign aid and arms to sigh," but remember 
 that the conquest must be wrought by work and determination, 
 and that "they who would be free, themselves must strike the 
 blow." What if you do go down to battle, and do not return, 
 if your country and children are free? 
 
 "Is't death to fall for freedom's right, 
 He's dead alone that lacks her light." 
 
 Let us fear no reverses, no toils, no privations; we have 
 that which ennobles life and sanctifies death in a noble cause — 
 
 "Give that, and welcome War to brace 
 Her drums, send Heaven's seeking space, 
 The columns planted face to face, 
 
 The charging cheer; 
 Though death's pale horse leads on the chase 
 
 Shall still be dear." 
 
 Turning from the soldier, let me say one word to the other 
 hope of the Confederacy — the women — whom that poet and 
 
A REMARKABLE PLEA, ETC 435 
 
 philosopher, Mr. Carnes, has so happily demonstrated "the 
 heart of the rebellion." Did you ever receive a prouder title, 
 my sisters? Never — and I rise in pride and self-gratulation 
 when I think how truly you deserve it. Our sex, thank God, 
 have been true to every emergency. The songs of Miriam, 
 Jael, and Deborah, come borne to us on soft breezes from the 
 Past Land, mingling with tabret and harp, and the cymbal's 
 fitful clash as they chant: "Sing ye unto the Lord, for He 
 hath triumphed gloriously. Praise ye the Lord for the aveng- 
 ing of Israel." Then, when Roman cross and Roman spear 
 had seemingly triumphed over truth, justice, and mercy — 
 when our Saviour hung dead upon the cross, and darkness 
 worse than Egypt covered the earth, the Marys and Marthas 
 were then unterrified by the dangers, unshaken in their faith, 
 firm to believe and to hope. We are necessary for the full 
 completion and development of truth. Men cannot work 
 without us. We are, and have been, the soul of every achieve- 
 ment, of every blessing, of every grandeur that man has 
 wrought. The knight of old, though fighting for the sepul- 
 chre of our Saviour, felt, when the name of his "lady-love" 
 was embroidered with the motto on his banner, that he was 
 "doubly armed," and never hewed down the foeman with 
 heartier, lustier strokes than when murmuring the darling 
 name of her who he knew was watching from her lone bower 
 for news from Palestine. Let no fear of being unwomanly, 
 unmaidenly, deter you from speaking and doing all that your 
 hand find.eth to do in this mighty, this death struggle now 
 going on between Liberty and Tyranny. Oh ! would the sun, 
 the moon, and the stars could thunder out the sublime strains 
 of the Marsellaise, and pour into the ear of every listening 
 Confederate : 
 
 "O Liberty! can man resign thee? 
 Once having felt thy glorious power." 
 
 It is on Margaret's lips and not her warrior nobles that 
 Shakespeare places these words concerning reverses : 
 
 "Great, my lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail them, 
 But cheerily seek how to redress them." 
 
436 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 We have been called upon to give up our jewels, and votive 
 offerings are coming up from every part of the land. All 
 seem to have laid to heart the sacred command : "If thou hast 
 much, give plenteously; if thou hast little, do thy diligence to 
 give that little." 
 
 Again are we reminded of the past and its significant union 
 with the present. You have not forgotten how, when the short- 
 sighted kings refused, that heroic Isabel, attracted by the 
 glorious light of truth: 
 
 "Gives ear unto Columbus, looking grandly poor. 
 Bending down her head these words she said : 
 I'll pledge my jewels for the enterprise." 
 
 Yes, the jewels of one woman in 1492 gave America to the 
 world — God grant that the jewels of many women shall in 
 1865 give freedom to America. 
 
 Women of Texas, we can urge our men, we can hold our 
 soldiers up to the high standard, and do it in a way proper to 
 our sex. Appeal to their manliness, their tenderness. He is 
 the bravest man that loves most tenderly. 
 
 The old Greek poet knew that truth thoroughly, and most 
 beautifully has he shown how the valor of Hector drew its 
 inspiration from Andromache's deep, womanly heart — and rhat 
 never were his nerves more strung to deeds of daring and 
 duty, than "when removing the helm whose tossing crest no 
 Grecian sword could touch," he kissed the boy presented to him 
 by the tearful, smiling wife and mother. 
 
 The youth who died at Marathon yielded his life with a 
 smile, remembering how his mother would receive him resting 
 on his shield, knowing he had died true to her native land. 
 Volumnia taught Coriolanus the stern, proud lesson that 
 though he was dearer to her than life, that Rome was more 
 beloved than he. 
 
 Let us determine to make a Thermopylae of Texas, to win 
 or die. We cannot submit, death were a thousand times, ten 
 thousand times preferable. Tf our men falter we will take 
 their places. vSlaves! Great God, Slaves! Southern women 
 smiled on by domineering, insulting Yankees ! Southern men 
 browbeaten and silent under their taunts ! Oh, God ! will our 
 
A REMARKABLE PLEA, ETC. 437 
 
 men, will our women permit such a thought ! Ah, no, the day- 
 is dark, the clouds black, but behind them the sun still shines. 
 The tide of war seems to have ebbed up on the other side, but 
 there is no necessity for such a thing here. Have you never 
 stood upon the beach and seen the seventh wave rise and 
 gather into its bosom all the broken wavelets, until piling high 
 its waters, and waiting as if for a moment's thought, it dashes 
 over, and runs high up the beach, sweeping all before it? Well, 
 we can be that wave in the breakers, and gathering in our 
 armies all the broken ones, finally burst forth with a sullen 
 roar "over the river," and sweep from the face of the earth 
 every Yankee soldiej and garrison, from here to the mouth of 
 the Potomac. Be not discouraged. God is our Father. Let 
 us cry unto Him, and He will grant us victory and peace. 
 The day may be long distant, and the way toilsome, bloody, 
 and weary. But we will, with His aid, make Texas a "tower 
 of victory," to which every freedom-loving soul shall turn as 
 to a shrine, and from whose pinnacle the watch-fires of Liberty 
 shall blaze like stars on eternity's ocean. 
 
 During, and after the war, it was often said that the bitterness of 
 Southern women had much to do with the protracted and terrible struggle. 
 It is doubtful if this was true to any great extent, and the foregoing is 
 illustrative of but one of this most extreme class. It would be ungenerous 
 at least, to consider her a type of Southern women. How flat some of 
 her epigrammatic sentences fall as now, under one flag, we are at peace ! 
 Fortunate is it, that Texas is now one of the peaceful, progressive States 
 of a united country. — Editor. 
 
SAW JEFFERSON DAVIS WHEN ARRESTED— NO 
 FEMALE'S CLOTHING 
 
 By John A. Skinner, Private, 4th Michigan Infantry 
 
 It was on the morning of May 6th, at Macon, Ga., where 
 we had been lying a short while, when "strike tents" was 
 sounded by the bugler. We packed up quickly. The order 
 was given to fall into line, and we took our respective places in 
 the line of march. We were under sealed orders and did not 
 know the nature of our mission, but next day, in some way or 
 other, the report got around among us that we were going to 
 capture Jefferson Davis. We passed through Hawkinsville, 
 and when we reached the ford of the Alabama River our horses 
 were pretty well fagged out. Here we ran across the ist 
 Wisconsin. 
 
 Colonel Pritchard, of the 4th Michigan, was ranking officer. 
 They picked out 128 of the best horses in the regiment. Col- 
 onel Pritchard instructed the major of the ist Wisconsin to 
 proceed to a certain place and go into park, and that he would 
 go into park at another point, both forces to concentrate in the 
 morning at Irwanville. Colonel Pritchard secured a guide and 
 leaving the remainder of the 4th Michigan at the iFord, our 
 detachment of twenty-eight men set out on the march. We 
 cut across through the woods and reached Irwanville between 
 one and two o'clock in the morning. 
 
 There were four of us, including myself, under command 
 of Sergeant Mace Brown of Co. I, in the advance of our 
 detachment. We made a halt at Irwanville trying to ascertain 
 the fact whether any wagon train had passed through that day. 
 We knocked on a door and the family answered our summons, 
 but we told them not to make any light. Sergeant Brown and 
 myself entered the house, and while we stood talking to the 
 
 438 
 
SAW JEFFERSON DAVIS WHEN ARRESTED 439 
 
 proprietor a little girl about fourteen years of age came down 
 stairs, holding a lighted candle in her hand. She seemed to be 
 greatly frightened. She would look at her father, then at us. 
 Finally she spluttered out, "Papa, I'll be damned if them ain't 
 Yanks !" Sergeant Brown warned the man that if any of the 
 family left the house they would be shot. They seemed to be 
 friendly, and told us that four or five wagons passed through 
 the town that afternoon. 
 
 When we got back to the road we noticed the glare of a fire 
 about three-quarters of a mile ahead of us. Sergeant Brown 
 reported to Colonel Pritchard what he had heard. 
 
 There were twenty-five of us detailed and placed under 
 command of Lieutenant Purington of Co. I. We were ordered 
 to make a circuit around the campfire and be on the road that 
 the campers would have to take. Orders were also given not 
 to advance on the camp until daylight, or in case the party 
 should break camp ; and when Colonel Pritchard was to hear 
 our firing he would charge with the other 105. 
 
 We had lain on the ground about three-quarters of an hour, 
 when a detachment of mounted men came up on our rear. 
 Lieutenant Purington shouted, "Halt! Who comes there?" 
 The sergeant in command of the advance replied, "You're the 
 men we're looking for." 
 
 "Dismount, one in advance," responded Purington. "Let 
 me know who you are, Federal or Confederate. We're Fed- 
 eral troops." The sergeant of the troops in a loud voice said 
 to one of his men, "You dismount and let them know who we 
 are." 
 
 They were very close to us and to escape through a swamp 
 seemed to be thought of. This was alive with alligators. 
 Again the sergeant spoke, this time in a low voice, "Turn your 
 horses and run," he said; and off they bolted. Lieutenant 
 Purington now shouted, "Fire upon them!" and we sent a 
 shower of lead after them with twenty-five Spencer rifles. 
 Day was now beginning to dawn, but it was not yet clear 
 enough for us to see who were the men we were firing on, 
 and who liad now turned and were firing on us. They were 
 pouring bullets into us, volley for volley. 
 
 When Colonel Pritchard heard the firing he placed a guard 
 over the camp and with the remainder of our force made a 
 
440 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 charge, coming around to where we were engaged, and open- 
 ing fire on our opponents immediately. Thus our detachment 
 of twenty-five men found itself under a galling fire from 
 two sides. We broke to spike alligators. 
 
 The morning grew brighter and we were not a little sur- 
 prised to learn that the men with whom we were engaged in 
 a pitched battle were a detachment of the ist Wisconsin. 
 Orders to cease firing were of course immediately given. There 
 was a lapse of a few seconds, then the Wisconsin force poured 
 another volley into Pritchard's men, killing one of our men and 
 wounding another. The Wisconsin men then discovered their 
 mistake and ceased firing. 
 
 We twenty-five men made our way back to the wagon 
 train. There were five wagons and ambulances. There was 
 one square-walled tent. Two men were lying on the ground 
 on a straw "tick." Joseph Odron of Co. G and myself went 
 up to them where they were lying. They had their heads cov- 
 ered. We ordered them to get up. The one on the left side 
 raised the quilts and peeped out, then covered up his face again. 
 I took hold of his pillow and raised his head, taking a belt 
 with two revolvers from under the pillow. The man whose 
 revolvers I removed proved to be John Reagan, Postmaster 
 General of the Confederacy. The other was his assistant, and 
 brother of Mrs. Jefferson Davis, 
 
 By this time our whole command had come up. Pritchard 
 had left one man, Andrew Bee, a German, of Co. L, on guard 
 at the tent. 
 
 At this juncture two young women, with what I thought 
 was a little old woman, walking between them and carrying a 
 small tin bucket in her hand, came out of the tent. The person 
 who looked like a little old woman wore a waterproof cloak 
 extending to the ground with a little black shawl over her head 
 and tied under her chin. Bee asked them where they were 
 going. One of the young ladies replied that they were taking 
 their mother out to the branch to get some water. The guard 
 told them that they could not go. Adjutant Dickinson was 
 standing a short distance off and one of the young women 
 said, "Lieutenant, can't the guard pass us out?" Dickinson 
 called out, "Guard, pass the ladies out," and out they passed. 
 
 They had gotten about lOO yards away from the tent, when 
 
SAW JEFFERSON DAVIS WHEN ARRESTED 441 
 
 Bee exclaimed, "By Yesiis! that's no woman! that's Sheff 
 Davis." 
 
 He ran in pursuit, and as he started a big dark-complexioned 
 woman came out of the tent and ran after him. Bee got before 
 the women and crossing his musket in front of them, ordered 
 them to halt. At that instant the stout, dark woman caught 
 up with h'm and cried out, "For God's sake, don't shoot the 
 President." 
 
 The troops began to circle around the group. One of them 
 opened the waterproof cloak, while another took the little 
 shawl from his hand, and there stood Jefferson Davis in the 
 uniform of a Confederate general. He was game to the core, 
 and pointing to his breast, said, "Shoot me right there." 
 
 It has been said, and repeated time and again, that the Con- 
 federate President, at the time of his capture, even wore skirts 
 and hoops. But I was right there, an eyewitness of the event, 
 and am willing to swear to the fact that the only garments 
 worn by Jefferson Davis that might be described as feminine, 
 were the waterproof cloak and the little shawl over his head. 
 
THE SIEGE OF MOBILE— "THE TIMES THAT TRIED 
 MEN'S SOULS." 
 
 By a. V. Kendrick, U. S. Volunteers 
 
 While Sherman was marching through Georgia, and Grant 
 was tightening his grip on Lee at Richmond and Petersburg, 
 General Canby was charged with the capture of Mobile and 
 the annihilation of the Rebel general, Dick Taylor, and his 
 army, in southern Alabama. To accomplish this, an army of 
 40,000 men concentrated at Mobile Point, at the entrance of 
 Mobile Bay. This army was divided into two army corps, 
 the Thirteenth and Sixteenth, commanded by Generals Gordon 
 Granger and A. J. Smith. Mobile Point is a narrow peninsula 
 extending down between the Gulf of Mexico on the east and 
 Mobile Bay on the west. At its extreme point stands Fort 
 Morgan, and on an island, just off the mouth of the bay, is 
 Fort Gaines. These are the principal defenses of the bay and 
 harbor, and here on August 5, 1864, Admiral Farragut, lashed 
 to the mast of his flagship, Hartford, fought that ever-memor- 
 able battle with the combined forces of the enemy, and by its 
 defeat opened the way for the capture of the city. This narrow 
 strip of land was nothing but sand, and if an}'- of Canby's men 
 were lacking in "sand" they certainly would get it here — sand 
 in your coffee, sand in your hardtack, sand in your eyes, sand 
 everywhere. 
 
 On March 17th the advance on Mobile was begun. Our 
 line of march lay up the peninsula along the eastern shore of 
 the bay. Soon after leaving camp we entered a dense pine 
 forest, and were in what the natives called the "wilderness." 
 
 After several days' marching through sand and swamp, with 
 the vertical rays of a Southern sun beating down upon us, we 
 camped in a turpentine orchard. While in this camp, some 
 thoughtless fellow set fire to the trees, and for a time the 
 entire camp was in danger of being burned. 
 
 442 
 
THE SIEGE OF MOBILE 443 
 
 Most of the distance through this wilderness is swamps, 
 filled with alligators, and all along the roadside their ungainly- 
 carcasses were strewn. For miles the swamps were impassable 
 for teams, and had to be bridged with corduroy. On Monday 
 morning, Aiarch 27th, our column was halted and formed in 
 line of battle; and the mysterious running to and fro of aides 
 and orderlies gave us to understand that there was danger 
 ahead. Soon the boom of artillery and the rattle of musketry 
 were heard, and the siege of Mobile had begun. The outlying 
 defenses of the city were Spanish Fort and Blakely, on the 
 other side of the bay, opposite the city. Our line of attack 
 extended from the bay below to the bay above the fort, and 
 completely cut off the retreat of the enemy by land. The 
 navy, under Admiral Thatcher, was expected to cut off all 
 retreat by water. 
 
 Besides the usual means of defense, the enemy had planted 
 torpedoes around the fort so close to each other that an assault 
 on the fort would have been certain destruction. They had 
 planted the roads leading to the landing full of them, and 
 strung them across the bay, so that our men on land and water 
 were in constant danger of being blown up. For thirteen days 
 we besieged the enemy there. At the first, our line was 
 exposed to the direct fire of the enemy, and they made it quite 
 lively for us, but in a very short time we had a line of defenses, 
 of breastworks and bombproofs, which gave us complete pro- 
 tection, and men would lie down and sleep as composedly as at 
 home. The siege was characterized with a grandeur seldom 
 if ever excelled. From hundreds of cannon along the line we 
 poured forth a stream of fire, while the gunboats anchored in 
 the bay landed their huge iron bolts plump in the enemy's 
 works. Each evening at sundown our guns would open fire, 
 and for an hour the storm of death would roll on. Our picket 
 line was pushed so close up to the enemy's line as to make it 
 extremely hazardous for him to work them. The enemy had 
 many heavy guns, and among them a huge mortar, which 
 threw a shell of several hundred pounds' weight. When fired 
 the shell would rise high in the heavens, and as it made its 
 revolution the side with the fuse attached could be plainly 
 seen. It looked like some huge monster with a fiery red eye, 
 flying through the heavens, and its movement gave it the 
 
444 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 appearance of winking at us ; when seen, the boys would cry 
 out, "i-ook out, there she comes, winking at us." Its move- 
 ment was so slow and well defined that we could easily dodge it. 
 
 On April 8th, at sundown, the firing began with more than 
 usual vigor and kept up till late at night. The gunners had 
 got the distance so well that almost every shell did terrible exe- 
 cution. A shell would burst in the fort and send timbers and 
 dirt high in the air. To add to the awful grandeur of the sight 
 this evening, the fallen trees and underbrush between the con- 
 tending lines caught fire, and the whole sky looked to be 
 aflame. About eleven o'clock, the 8th Iowa Infantry, pressing 
 close up to the fort, found the enemy in the act of evacuating 
 the fort by way of the bay. They leaped over the ramparts and 
 planted their flag. Soon the whole line pressed forward and 
 captured many prisoners. The gunboats being unable to cut 
 off the retreat on account of the torpedoes planted in the bay, 
 most of the enemy got off, and fell back to Blakely. 
 
 General Steele, who had marched from Pensacola, Fla., 
 with a division of infantry and cavalry, through swamps 
 thought to be impassable, v;as reinforced by a division of col- 
 ored troops, and had been pounding away at the enemy, who 
 was closely bes'eged, at Blakely. The next morning we were 
 pushed forward as rapidly as possible to reinforce him. As 
 we marched along, an orderly came riding from the rear, and 
 as he passed each regiment he would say, ''Richmond is taken." 
 We had cheered so often over the fall of Richmond, we did not 
 believe it. But this time it was true. 
 
 Just as our advance was coming into line the evening of the 
 9th, General Steele's men, without orders, so it is said, sprang 
 out of their rifle-pits and stormed the enemy's works. Never 
 during the entire war did men do more gallant work, and the 
 colored troops were not a whit behind their white comrades. 
 Besides the extremely strong fortifications around Blakely, of 
 earthworks and a double row of torpedoes, the enemy had 
 surrounded the works with a triple line of fallen trees, whose 
 tops pointed outward, and each limb sharpened to a point. 
 
 After the place was taken, a colored soldier was standing 
 with some white men looking at the line of defense over which 
 his regiment had charged. One of the men asked him how on 
 
THE SIEGE OF MOBILE 445 
 
 earth he ever charged over such a place, when he said in 
 reply, "Golly, massa, nebber knowed dat ar brushpile was dar." 
 
 The 76th Illinois Infantry immortalized themselves in the 
 storming of Blakely, losing 117 killed. Our townsman, Wil- 
 liam Warden, who was orderly sergeant of Co. F of that regi- 
 ment, was the third man to enter the fort. Both of the men 
 who preceded him were killed, and Comrade Warden lost his 
 left leg by a Minie ball, after entering the fort. When he 
 fell he called to one of his comrades, and said, "We've got the 
 fort, and I didn't fall till we captured it." 
 
 With Spanish Fort and Elakely in our hands. Mobile was 
 doomed. We lay here till the nth, when orders came for us 
 to retrace our steps to Stark's Landing, some three miles below 
 Spanish Fort, and take steamers for Mobile. We reached the 
 landing at two o'clock the next morning, and as soon as it 
 was day took shipping and started across the bay. Here we 
 sav^ the grandest sight during our entire enlistment. Our 
 corps, the Thirteenth, on transports, with the entire navy, 
 started slowly across to the city, whose complete outline was 
 visible. The gunboats, provided with machines for raising 
 torpedoes, went in the advance. From every transport and 
 gunboat floated numerous flags; the soldiers and sailors in 
 blue completely covered the boats, while the gunboats, cleared 
 for action, kept up a continuous signaling. Add to this, the 
 curving outline of the shore fringed wnth forest trees peculiar 
 to that sunny clime, and you have a picture of marvelous 
 beauty. As w^e were nearing the shore. Admiral Thatcher, 
 commanding the fleet, ran his flagship alongside of General 
 Granger's headquarters-boat, and with great dignity said to 
 Granger, "I propose to shell the shore." To this the general 
 replied, "You'll shell a flag of truce, if you do," and so he 
 would, for on looking closely an old negro was seen on shore 
 waving a white handkerchief. 
 
 We landed below the city some five miles, and marched to it 
 over the famous shell road. On arriving in the city the after- 
 noon of April 1 2th, it was formally surrendered by the mayor, 
 the general commanding the Confederate troops having re- 
 treated by way of the Mobile & Ohio railroad. The army was 
 pushed forward the next day after the retreating foe, and at a 
 
446 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 station called Whistler, some five miles out, overtook the rear 
 guard of the Rebels, and fought v^hat was claimed to be the 
 last battle of the war. 
 
 On Sunday, April 23, as we were lying in camp on the river 
 bank, a boat came to the landing, all covered with the emblems 
 of mourning. From these sad emblems we inferred that 
 something awful had happened, and from the boat's crew 
 learned the sad news that President Lincoln had been assassi- 
 nated. The news came like a thunderclap from a clear sky, 
 and strong men wept like children. Deep and bitter were the 
 curses, and had an enemy been at hand our men were so 
 enraged that no quarter would have been shown. 
 
 But we had met our last armed foe, and were soon to be 
 gladdened with the news of Dick Taylor's army throwing 
 down their arms. On the 25th we moved up the river to Mcin- 
 tosh's bluff, and commenced the erection of a fort to command 
 the river, and be named Fort Granger. While here, many col- 
 ored people came down the river in every conceivable kind of 
 a craft, and with rapturous delight, hailed us as their saviors 
 from bondage. When we told them that Lincoln was killed, 
 their grief had no bounds, but that same faith which had kept 
 them through the long night of waiting did not fail them now, 
 just as their hope was about to be realized, and they in answer 
 said, "De good Lord will raise up another Massa Lincum." 
 On the 28th we learned of the surrender of Dick Taylor's 
 army, the last organized force of Rebels east of the Mississippi, 
 but his fleet, numbering many transports, gunboats, and block- 
 ade-runners, was still up the river above us, and we were 
 charged to look after it. May 7th the first boat of this fleet 
 came in sight under a white flag, and we were told that the 
 terms of surrender by which the army of Taylor had laid down 
 their arms included the navy also. When this boat rounded 
 to, a fine three-decker, we read on her side, "Jeff Davis." You 
 can judge we did some tall cheering. In a day or two the 
 whole fleet was there, and on one of them was found this 
 motto, "Taylor never surrenders." But that motto, you see, 
 was made before we bluecoats got there. To us, these boats 
 and their crews had great interest. There, riding at anchor, 
 were the gunboats with which Farragut had contended in 
 Mobile Bay. And the same boats had throw^n those mighty 
 
THE SIEGE OF MOBILE 447 
 
 shells at us at Spanish Fort and Blakel)'-, whose rattling noise 
 caused us so much fright, and gave rise to the saying among 
 the boys, "They are throwing freight trains at us." There 
 were the blockade runners, which had caused so much destruc- 
 tion to our commerce at sea. All the crew, from commodore 
 down, were looked upon with that interest known only by those 
 who had been brought face to face with them in deadly con- 
 flict. As soon as a sufficient amount of wood could be cut to 
 run us down to Mobile, we took passage on the captured fleet, 
 thankful to know that the long struggle was over, and our 
 country one and inseparable. 
 
A SPRINTER IN A RAID AT CLOYD'S FARM, MAY 
 
 9, 1864 
 
 By S. C. Franklin, West Virginia Volunteers, U. S. A. 
 
 My first scene of carnage and bloodshed was shocking for a 
 boy in his teens. It was at Cloyd's Farm, May 9, 1864. I 
 shall never forget it. We were camping at Saltville, guarding 
 the salt works. On the evening of May 8th the long roll was 
 beat, which meant stack tents and fall in line, and in a few 
 minutes, the 45th Virginia Regiment was on its way to meet 
 a raid led by that noted Indian fighter, General Crook, who 
 was bent on tearing up the N. & W. R. R., and thus cutting off 
 General Lee's supplies at Richmond. We met on Cloyd's 
 farm, and our commander. General Jenkins, was killed and 
 his command routed. In that raid was ex-President Mc- 
 Kinley, and for gallantry on that field he won his major star, 
 and the writer, a boy soldier, won the blue ribbon as the 
 fastest runner that ever struck Southwest Virginia. On 
 that field were soldiers from Virginia and the Blue Grass 
 section of Kentucky, but the Broom Sedge boy of Surrey 
 carried off the ribbon. 
 
 448 
 
ONE OF THE LAST BATTLES OF THE WAR 
 
 By H, G. Moffett, ist Sergeant, Cos. I and D, 34TH Iowa 
 
 Infantry 
 
 On the morning of March 20, 1865, our Division of the 
 Thirteenth Corps, General Frank Steel in command, broke 
 camp at Pensacola, Fla., bound for the rear of Mobile, Ala., 
 the object being, in conjunction with General Canby, to 
 capture that almost last of the Rebel strongholds, and the 
 only seaport of any consequence along our entire Atlantic 
 and Gulf coast occupied by the Confederates. After a weari- 
 some march through western Alabama, with rain and mud 
 retarding our every step, on April 2d we reached the Rebel 
 fortifications at Blakely, which were strongly held by the 
 enemy. 
 
 After the usual skirmishing, feeling of the enemy, finding 
 his strong as well as weak points, and throwing up entrench- 
 ments along his entire front. General Canby having the day 
 previous captured the Spanish Fort down the bay, on the 
 morning of April 9, 1865, on the same day that Grant and 
 Lee had finished negotiations for the surrender to Grant of 
 the Army of Northern Virginia, the surrender actually 
 occurring, the war virtually ended, we were ordered to make 
 ready for a general assault on the enemy at 5 130 P. M. From 
 our constant feeling of the enemy for days we knew his 
 position was a very strong one — fortified with abattis, pali- 
 sades, cheveaiix de frise, sunken torpedoes, and every imagi- 
 nable obstruction, its front extending for three miles or 
 more, and five thousand brave Confederates defending it, 
 abundant cannon sweeping every practical approach, every 
 thinking soldier with the experience of three years' warfare 
 behind him knew what such an assault meant. It meant death 
 and wounds to hundreds, and who were to be the victims, 
 
 449 
 
450 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 myself or my comrade, the God of battles only knew. Only 
 those who have gone through such a mental agony can 
 realize what that day of waiting meant. Letters were written 
 home telling of the expected assault, good-bys were sent, 
 and many a boy not noted for excessive piety found down 
 in his knapsack the little Bible mother gave him at the parting, 
 years before, reading the same, gathering consolation from 
 the precious Word, and offering a silent prayer for his safe 
 deliverance in the coming hour of peril. When 5 130 came 
 we were in the trenches ready, anxious for the fray. A storm 
 of shot and shell swept over our heads, and I thought, "Can 
 anyone live in such a tempest?" At the word "Forward," 
 the whole command obeyed with a shout, to which the Rebels 
 responded with all their guns. Not a fear now, not a waver 
 in our lines. Over every obstacle we went, yelling like 
 demons, not a man faltering, each determined to be to the 
 fore. Personally, I ran a race with the colonel of the 83d 
 Ohio as to who should first reach a fallen log which lay across 
 a ravine. "I beat him to it," only a moment later tumbling 
 over a stretched wire, — those seeing me, yelling that T was 
 killed. For nearly one-half hour we struggled with obstruc- 
 tions that seemed insurmountable and under fire of shell and 
 canister that threatened our annihilation, but on and on we 
 went until the one-half mile was covered. We leaped up 
 over the ditch, up the face of the defenses, and the fort and 
 its garrison were ours, — but at what a sacrifice ! It had cost 
 us nearly 1000 brave men killed and wounded, and 500 Rebels 
 lay stretched beside them. Many of the old veterans tell 
 you they become immune to fear after having passed through 
 such ordeals. As for myself, after having passed through 
 several such, I admit I was just as much in fear of death or 
 wounds in this, our last charge, as I was at the first, for life 
 was just as dear to me then, and the desire to finish up the 
 terrible strife in safety stronger than ever. 
 
 Shortly after this, our last engagement, came the news 
 of the surrender of Lee, the end of the war, and all were 
 rejoicing. Then, swiftly on the heels of this good news, came 
 the heart-crushing word of the assassination of President 
 Lincoln, then all our rejoicing was changed to deepest mourn- 
 ing and sorrow. 
 
THE LAST BATTLE OF THE CIVIL WAR 
 By J. S. Clark, Captain 34TH Iowa Infantry 
 
 Like the Battle of New Orleans, fought and won by 
 General Jackson after peace had been declared in 181 5, the 
 last battle of the Civil War was fought after the war was 
 over, late in the afternoon of April 9, 1865. 
 
 Lee had surrendered to Grant some hours earlier on the 
 same day. 
 
 General Canby began the operations leading to this last 
 battle by landing troops at Pensacola, Fla., January 28, 
 1865. The writer was an officer in the 34th Iowa, which, 
 with other regiments in the Thirteenth Army Corps, went 
 into camp in a delightful grove of evergreens at Barrancas, 
 across the bay from Fort Pickens. 
 
 On March 20th, all the assembled troops, about 10,000, 
 under General Steele, m.arched out of the old historic town 
 of Pensacola, taking a northwesterly route, in order to reach 
 Mobile from the woods on the north. 
 
 For eleven days we marched in the rain through Florida 
 swamps. In order to move the wagons and heavy guns 
 over the water-soaked ground it was necessary to build 
 corduroy roads almost all the way. 
 
 The delay caused by this heavy work soon put us on short 
 rations. We were wet and hungry day and night. Our men 
 gathered and ate the corn which had been left on the ground 
 by the enemy, and which had been slobbered over by their 
 horses. 
 
 April 1st found us opposite Blakely, at one time a town 
 of 3000 people, now one of the fortified defenses of Mobile. 
 Fort Blakely was in command of Confederate General J. R. 
 Liddel. Its fortifications were circular in form, three miles 
 long, and included nine well-built redoubts. 
 
 451 
 
452 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 These were armed with forty pieces of artillery, and sur- 
 rounded by ditches four feet deep. The heavy timber for 
 600 yards in front had been felled. Fifty yards out from 
 the works was an abattis, and opposite some of the redoubts 
 was a second line; then 300 yards out to the front, parallel 
 with their works, was another line of abattis, and behind the 
 latter detached rifle pits. These works were manned by 3500 
 soldiers. 
 
 April 2d was occupied by us in investing Fort Blakely, 
 during which operation we lost sixty men killed and wounded. 
 
 The Thirteenth Army Corps, under command of General 
 Granger, took position on our right. The Sixteenth Army 
 Corps, under command of General A. J. Smith, was on the 
 left. General Hawkins' division, composed of colored troops, 
 was on the right center. General Garrard's division on the 
 left center, and General Andrews' division occupied the center 
 of the line. It is considered that ten men well protected 
 by earthwork can successfully resist thirty or forty. There- 
 fore, instead of throwing his troops against the enemy's for- 
 tifications, with great loss and possible repulse. General Steele 
 determined to advance by gradual approaches with pick and 
 shovel, with which we were well supplied. In fact, when 
 the campaign of Mobile was begun, Canby in general orders 
 provided that one pick, one ax and one spade should be carried 
 by every twelve men. Our first entrenchment ditch was dug 
 1000 yards from the enemy's works. 
 
 For the general reader, a few words as to temporary 
 entrenchments may be inserted here. They are usually called 
 rifle pits, and are two or three feet deep, the dirt being 
 thrown on the side toward the enemy. Sometimes on top 
 of this dirt will be placed the trunk of a tree, about six 
 inches in diameter. 
 
 By scraping away a little earth from under this trunk, 
 the enemy could be seen without exposing the head of the 
 observer. 
 
 These trenches were always dug at night, no talking above 
 a whisper being permitted, and no noise but that which came 
 from the pick and shovel. It took three nights' work to 
 complete our first ditch, and by the eighth night we had 
 finished the second and third line of entrenchments, the last 
 
THE LAST BATTLE OF THE CIVIL WAR 453 
 
 one being six feet wide, capable of holding troops in three 
 ranks, and was only 600 yards from the Confederate works. 
 
 Our skirmishers in front of this wide ditch entrenched 
 themselves within eighty yards of the enemy's outer line of 
 pickets. 
 
 In the meantime, small forts for our artillery had been 
 constructed along our first and second lines, and the guns 
 of our light batteries placed in them. 
 
 The enemy was not quiet while these things were being 
 done, and any exposure of our men drew his fire, both 
 musketry and artillery, killing and wounding each day twenty 
 to forty Union soldiers. 
 
 Spanish Fort, General R. L. Gibson in command, eight 
 miles out, which had been invested March 27 by the Sixteenth 
 Army Corps, surrendered to General A. J. Smith on the 8th. 
 Some of the guns used in its siege were immediately sent 
 to General Steele, who had them placed in position during 
 the night of the 8th and the morning of the 9th. The hour 
 of 5 P. M. of April 9th was fixed as the time for a general 
 assault on the enemy's works. 
 
 At that hour the simultaneous firing of all the cannon on 
 the line was to be the signal for the charge. 
 
 By an unforeseen delay, the signal was not given till 5 130. 
 Our troops had all been formed in line of battle in the 
 entrenchments nearest the enemy, with bayonets fixed. One 
 regiment of each brigade was deployed as skirmishers along 
 the front in the entrenchments. Breathlessly all awaited the 
 signal to move forward. The silence was interrupted only 
 by an occasional shot from a Confederate picket. The waiting 
 and suspense were a severe test of courage. 
 
 Some tried to conceal their anxiety by an effort to appear 
 reckless, careless and brave; they whispered jokes and 
 witticisms, pretending that they enjoyed it all immensely. 
 Others, more candid and serious, gave their comrades mes- 
 sages to be delivered to loved ones at home in case they fell. 
 The faces of none indicated that they shrank from the 
 approacliing battle; while all dreaded it, they were impatient 
 for the charge. 
 
 With the clash of the signal guns, our first line of skir- 
 mishers leaped from the trenches and with yells rushed for- 
 
454 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 ward 150 yards, where the second Hne, with loud cheering, 
 soon joined them, when all rushed forward together. 
 
 Now, every cannon the enemy had on his line, and every 
 rifle poured forth their deadly missies on our advancing 
 men. Tempests of bullets, pieces of bursting shell, grape and 
 canister, filled the air and whistled about our ears. We were 
 met by deadly, unseen and unknown dangers in sunken 
 torpedoes, which, when trod upon, exploded, stripping the 
 flesh from the legs and wounding terribly those not killed 
 outright. Fallen trees, abattis and wire stretched along near 
 the ground impeded our progress and exposed us longer to 
 the enemy's destructive fire. 
 
 No reply was made to their guns except by our artillery, 
 which poured away over our heads with great effect. In 
 twenty minutes we had surmounted all obstacles, climbed over 
 the enemy's works and given him the bayonet. 
 
 As General Hawkins' colored troops went over the works, 
 they shouted, "Remember Fort Pillow !" whereupon the Con- 
 federates in their front threw down their guns, ran down the 
 line, and surrendered to General Andrews' white soldiers. 
 
 That was one of the most brilliant and spectacular charges 
 of the Civil War. But it is little known and has had scant 
 mention, by reason of the great events just then culminating 
 in the collapse of the Rebellion and end of the great Civil War. 
 
 We were victorious, but 775 of our men, who one-half 
 hour before had been joking and laughing with each other, had 
 fallen. 
 
 In these twentv minutes our losses were greater than those 
 in the four Revolutionary battles of Lexington, Bunker Hill, 
 Trenton, and Bennington. Yet each one of these has been 
 written into the eternal ages, their renown perpetuated in 
 history, song and story, and their glory and fame made im- 
 perishable by tablets of bronze and obelisks of marble. 
 
A STORY OF THE MEXICAN BORDER. A STRANGE 
 
 INCIDENT 
 
 By S. H, Harper, Captain 46TH U. S. Colored Troops, 
 
 Formerly State Senator,, also Mayor of 
 
 Ottumwa, Ia. 
 
 The following story, while not pertaining to the Civil War, is so inter- 
 esting, and now, for the first time made public, it is inserted. The author 
 has been a friend of mine for many years, as well as a comrade, and his 
 veracity is unquestionable. — Editor. 
 
 It will be remembered that during our Civil War, Napoleon 
 III landed a French army in Mexico, conquered the country, 
 changed the form of government to a monarchy, and placed 
 Maximilian upon the throne. 
 
 This was done at a time when our hands were tied in 
 suppressing the Rebellion, and we could do nothing more than 
 to make a protest. But in the summer and fall of 1865 ^^^ 
 government sent an army of 40,000 men to the Rio Grande 
 under General Sheridan, and at the same time notified 
 Napoleon III that the French army must be withdrawn from 
 Mexico. This was done, leaving Maximilian with a small 
 force of Austrians to maintain his throne. As soon as the 
 French left the country the Mexicans, who favored a republic, 
 rose in great numbers and began to harass the Austrians who 
 were sustaining the empire. 
 
 The regiment in which the writer was a captain was 
 stationed the first half of January, 1866, at the mouth of the 
 Rio Grande, just opposite Bagdad, a considerable town on 
 the Mexican side, which was garrisoned by a company of 
 Austrian troops. 
 
 General Cortina was a Mexican guerrilla who commanded 
 a force of from 200 to 500 men, mounted on mustangs, armed 
 
 455 
 
456 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 with carbines, sabers, shot-guns, and lances, and who raided 
 up and down the river from £1 Paso to the mouth, dodging 
 from one side of the river to the other, as circumstances 
 permitted. 
 
 One evening early in January, 1866, Cortina rode into the 
 camp of my regiment with about 300 of his dusky warriors. 
 Lieutenant Colonel Will Lyon, of Evansville, Ind., a dare- 
 devil officer of the 46th U. S. Colored Troops, was in com- 
 mand of the post. He ordered a banquet prepared, and in- 
 vited Cortina and his oflicers of the post to be present. He 
 also provided well for Cortina's men. The banquet continued 
 until about one o'clock in the morning, and wine and whisky 
 flowed very freely. 
 
 Cortina suddenly announced that he would have to go. 
 His men were formed and they started up the river on the 
 Texas side. In about two hours we heard the booming of 
 cannon and the sound of musketry on the Bagdad side of the 
 river. It lasted but a few minutes and then all was still, 
 Cortina had gone up the river a few miles, swam his horses 
 and men across, and had come down and attacked the Austrian 
 garrison, who, after firing their old cannon once or twice, took 
 to their heels and escaped into the country. 
 
 In the meantime, about 200 of the U. S. troops, under 
 non-commissioned officers, had collected a lot of scows, skiffs 
 and other river craft, and at a given signal from Cortina's 
 men, they pushed across the river and entered Bagdad about 
 the same time that the Mexicans did. Then a pillage of the 
 town commenced and did not end until every shop and store 
 were rifled of their contents. 
 
 Bagdad was the port of entry for Matamoras and all of that 
 section of the country, and was filled with stores of goods 
 of all kinds. Cortina and his men carried off all that they 
 could find vehicles to transport them in. The U. S. soldiers 
 stole into camp about daylight with all of the plunder that 
 they could carry across the river in their boats. 
 
 In the forenoon of the day following the raid, Colonel 
 Lyon, in the most formal manner, ordered three companies 
 of U. S. troops to cross the river and take possession of 
 Bagdad for the protection of the people. The writer was 
 one of the officers who accompanied the troops that occupied 
 
A STORY OF THE MEXICAN BORDER 457 
 
 the town. We found that every store had been plundered, 
 over one hundred in number, and where the goods had not 
 been carried away they had been scattered over the floors 
 and sidewalks and trampled under foot. The proprietors, 
 French, Israelites, Italians, and Germans were hovering around 
 their places of business, anxious to know whether we would 
 protect them against any further raids of the guerrilla Cortina; 
 we assured them that we would hold the place until Maximilian 
 sent a force to occupy it. 
 
 We ran up the American flag over the fort and the custom 
 house, and g3.\e them absolute protection. This encouraged 
 the shopkeepers and merchants, who straightened up their 
 stocks, and put the goods that were left back on the shelves 
 and awaited developments. 
 
 In about a week an Austrian man-of-war appeared in the 
 harbor, sent an officer ashore, and matters were explained 
 by the U. S. officer in charge of the force occupying the city. 
 A company of marines was landed, we quietly hauled down the 
 flag and withdrew to the American side of the river. The 
 Austrian officer in charge of the marines thanked us pro- 
 fusely for taking possession and maintaining order after 
 Cortina's raid. 
 
 There were no casualties, no buildings were burned and no 
 investigation zvas ever made of our invasion of Mexico. 
 
 No investigation was made by Colonel Lyon of the action 
 of the enlisted men of his command in aiding and abetting 
 Cortina in the raid. 
 
 About ten days after the events above described, our regi- 
 ment was ordered home to be mustered out. No cognizance 
 was ever taken of this event, and the writer has never seen 
 the story in print. 
 
THE LOYAL WOMEN OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 By the Editor, E. R. Hutchins 
 
 I HAVE seen a good deal of fighting, a number of individual 
 cases of heroism, and regiments, brigades, divisions and corps 
 evincing such daring courage, such intrepid valor as almost 
 appalled me, but bravery does not alone belong to those who 
 faced the cannon's mouth, stood in front of the fierce bayonet 
 charge, met the rushing cavalry undaunted, or resisted cold 
 steel with living, pulsating flesh. Glory and honor to those 
 brave souls, but to me the bravest of the brave in those 
 thrilling days of the 'sixties, were the women who stayed at 
 home. 
 
 Those who suffered "the blind, dumb pain that came, and 
 did not go away." Those mothers who gave all they had, — 
 one, two, four, yes, as many as eight sons to fight, and if 
 need be, to die for their country. That mother who hugged 
 her only boy to her bosom, gave him his little Bible, kissed 
 him, and bade him go out for his flag and his country. Those 
 mothers who prayed to the God of Battles so often, so tenderly 
 to save their boys. Those mothers who reached to the top 
 shelves of the pantry, and took down the best jellies and 
 jams to send to their boys at the front. Those mothers who 
 watched and prayed, who waited and waited, watched and 
 prayed again and waited for the sound of the footfall that 
 was never to be heard again crossing the threshold of home. 
 Ah, those weary hearts ! Most of them are up yonder now, 
 waiting by the river for the Boys in Blue and the Boys in Gray 
 of the long ago. 
 
 That wife who looked into the face of her darling baby, 
 seeing her soldier husband in the dear one's eves and mouth 
 and pretty cheeks, and praying that God might let him live 
 to come home again. 
 
 458 
 
THE LOYAL WOMEN OF THE 'SIXTIES 459 
 
 The sisters and sweethearts, who picked lint, rolled the 
 bandages and made the delicacies for the sick boys in the 
 hospitals. 
 
 "Ah ! 'twas a time that tested women's souls — 
 To stand and see the blue lines fade away, 
 To crush the tears back, and to say brave words 
 Despite the sickening dread that filled the heart; 
 Then go back to the silent, lonely home 
 To pray and wait in deep suspense for news." 
 
 These, more than the soldiers at the front, were the brave 
 ones, and their courage and heroism far outshone our valor, 
 even when death seemed staring us in the face. 
 
 God bless the loving, devoted women of the 'sixties! 
 
SOUTHERN NEWSPAPER EXTRACTS AT THE 
 CLOSE OF THE WAR 
 
 The following interesting accounts are from Richmond papers from a 
 iile of the same in the hands of Mrs. Gage, of Bradford, Mass, who has 
 very kindly sent me these extracts, for which I am grateful. — Editor. 
 
 (From the Richmond Whig, April 6, 1865.) 
 
 For a month the Confederates have been evacuating the 
 city with all the speed and means they had at command. 
 Sunday morning last f2d inst.) General Lee telegraphed to 
 Davis of the general attack upon his lines ; that they had been 
 pierced in many places, and unless they could be re-established 
 Richmond must be given up that night. At 11 A. M. he 
 telegraphed that he had been unsuccessful. Gold and silver 
 appropriated from Louisiana banks was run down to Dan- 
 ville by train. Also specie from Richmond banks. Davis 
 was to leave at 7 P. M. Breckinridge with the last of the army, 
 Monday morning. Mayor and council met at 4 P. M. Sunday. 
 General Smith then assured them that the Confederates had 
 been victorious at Petersburg, but after dark, council learned 
 from Secretary of War that the Confederate troops would 
 be w^'thdrawn at 3 A. M. and the city evacuated. Mayor then 
 sent flag of truce to Union commander as follows : 
 
 "Richmond, Monday, April 3, 1865. — To the General com- 
 manding the United States Army in front of Richmond. 
 General : The Army of the Confederate Government having 
 abandoned the City of Richmond, I respectfully request that 
 you will take possession of it with an organized force to 
 preserve order and protect the women and children. 
 
 "Respectfully, etc., 
 "Joseph Mayo, 
 
 "Mayor." 
 
 460 
 
SOUTHERN NEWSPAPER EXTRACTS, ETC. 461 
 
 At I A. M. Monday, the Mayor learned that an order had 
 been issued from Ewell's headquarters to fire the four principal 
 tobacco warehouses. He dispatched a committee to remon- 
 strate, and prevent the burning if possible. But Confederate 
 authorities had held the batteries of Southern troops, who 
 hated Virginia and Virginians, and wished the ruin of the 
 city. Two divisions, Kershaw's and Custis Lee's, with several 
 light batteries, were holding the lines about the city, but were 
 withdrawn by brigades during the night. The first fire was 
 of all papers, documents, etc., of First and Second Auditor's 
 offices on 9th Street, early Sunday night. Then, before the 
 order was given, some one set fire to a canal boat loaded 
 with meat, which swung under Mayo's bridge, cutting off 
 retreat of 6000 Confederates. The Confederate gunboat 
 Patrick was fired, then the warehouses and lastly every house 
 in their vicinity, from Tredegar Iron Works to the Navy Yard 
 at Rocketts, about two miles in extent — laboratories, artillery 
 shops, arsenals, paper mills, Petersburg depot, Danville depot, 
 all commissary and quartermaster's buildings, factories, etc. 
 Gray's cavalry was to be the last to leave Richmond and 
 barely saved themselves. 
 
 Mayor Mayo met the Union military at the line of fortifica- 
 tions at Tree Hill, near junction of Osborne turnpike and 
 Newmarket Road, and formally made surrender. General 
 Shepley was made Military Governor by Major General God- 
 frey Weitzel, commanding the Army of the James, and at 
 once issued orders and regulations, from his headquarters at 
 the mansion formerly occupied by Jefferson Davis. The first 
 Brigade, Third Division, Twenty- fourth Army Corps, Brevet 
 Brigadier General Ripley (9th Vermont) commanding, was 
 first to enter Richmond, comprising 91st, 98th, and 139th New 
 York Volunteers, 13th New Hampshire, 19th Wisconsin and 
 nth Connecticut, with the 206th Pennsylvania, and were 
 assigned to provost duty. 
 
 (From Richmond Whig, April 10, 1865.) 
 
 Saturday afternoon was held the first review and parade of 
 the U. S. troops here. A portion of the Twelfth Army Corps. 
 12,000 troops in line, bv Brigadier General Charles Devens, 
 
462 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 under General Weitzel, commander, in place of General E. O. 
 C. Ord, All the hospitals of the city have been taken posses- 
 sion of, and are used alike for Union and Confederate soldiers. 
 Confederate surgeons left in the city have been paroled to 
 attend to the Confederate sick and wounded, 24,000 beds 
 having been left by Confederate authorities. 
 
 (From Richmond Times, April 2J, 1865.) 
 
 City Point, April 3, 11 A. M. — Hon. E. M. Stanton, 
 Secretary of War : General Weitzel telegraphs as follows : 
 We took Richmond at a quarter-past eight this morning. T. 
 S. Bowers, Acting Adjutant General, General Weitzell to E. 
 M. Stanton. We found 44 passengers and baggage cars, 106 
 freight cars, 1000 well prisoners, 5000 Rebel wounded, 5000 
 stand of arms and 500 pieces of artillery. 
 
 (From the Richmond Whig, April 18. 1865.) 
 
 This copy of Lee's order to evacuate Richmond was found 
 on the body of Colonel Crutchfield, killed at Sailor's Creek, 
 Thursday, 6th : 
 
 "Petersburg, 2d April, 1865. 
 
 "General Ewell: Move your command to south side of 
 James River to-night, crossing on bridges at and below Rich- 
 mond; take the road with your troops to Branch Church via 
 Genito Bridge to Amelia Court House. The movement will 
 commence at eight o'clock, the artillery moving out first quickly, 
 infantry following, except pickets, who will be withdrawn at 
 three o'clock. General Stevens will indicate route to you 
 and furnish guides. The cavalry must follow, destroying 
 bridges under the superintendence of the engineer officers. 
 The artillery not needed for the troops will take the road 
 prescribed for the wagons, or such other as may be most 
 convenient. 
 
 "W. H. Taylor, Official, 
 
 "R. Cleary, Assistant Adjutant General, 
 
 "Colonel Crutchfield, commanding division." 
 
SOUTHERN NEWSPAPER EXTRACTS, ETC. 463 
 (From the Richmond Whig, April 24, 1865.) 
 
 NATIONAL FLAG RAISED ON FORT SUMTER ON I4TH INST. 
 
 The National Ensign floated over all the Rebel forts in 
 the harbor except Fort Sumter. After twelve o'clock Gen- 
 eral Gillmore arrived with General Anderson and daugliter. 
 General Anderson glanced around on the work of destruction, 
 but could see nothing by which to recognize the Sumter he 
 left four years ago in the mass of shapeless ruins. He 
 glanced up the immense flagstaff, and when he stepped forth 
 on the platform, the gallant old general wept, but after some 
 moments proceeded : 
 
 "My Friends and Fellow Citizens and Brother Soldiers : By 
 the considerate appointment of the Honorable Secretary of 
 War, I am here to fulfill the cherished wish of my heart 
 through four long years of bloody war, to restore to its place 
 this dear flag, which floated here during peace, before the 
 first act of this cruel Rebellion. I thank God I have lived 
 to see this day, and to be here to perform this duty to my 
 country. My heart is filled with gratitude to that God who 
 has so signally blessed us, who has given us blessings beyond 
 measure. May all the world proclaim, 'Glory to God in the 
 highest and on earth, peace and good will to all men.' " 
 
 He then raised the halyards and with a firm, steady pull, 
 aided by Sergeant Hart, unfurled the glorious old banner. It 
 was an inspiring moment. Its crimson folds tattered, but not 
 dishonored, were regenerated and baptized anew in the fires of 
 liberty. 
 
 (From the Richmond Whig, May 10, 1865.) 
 
 When the Army of Northern Virginia was compelled to 
 surrender by the powerful forces with which the strategy 
 of General Grant had surrounded it, the vanquished officers 
 and soldiers received signal proofs of kindness and courtesy 
 from the successful army. No insulting triumph, — no words 
 or deeds of vaunting, — the only warmth shown by the victors 
 was in deeds of humanity and words of considerate and healing 
 courtesy. When General Grant learned that the men who had 
 
464 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 so often and so long resisted him were suffering for food, he 
 instantly ordered that 16,000 rations should be distributed 
 among them. His soldiers mingled with their former adver- 
 saries, supplying their wants and cheering them with words of 
 peace. 
 
 (From the Richmond Whig, May 15, 1865.) 
 
 Official, — Headquarters Cavalry Corps, Military Division, — 
 
 Macon, May 12, 1865. 
 Major General Halleck: I have the honor to report 
 that at da34ight on the loth inst.. Colonel Pritchard, com- 
 manding 4th Michigan Cavalry, captured Jeff Davis and 
 family, with Reagon, Postmaster General, Colonel Harrison, 
 Private Secretary, Colonel Johnson, aide-de-camp. Colonel 
 Morris, Colonel Lubbock, Lieutenant Hathaway and others. 
 Colonel Pritchard surprised their camp at Irwinville, in Irwin 
 county, Ga., seventy-five miles southeast of this place. They 
 will be here to-morrow night and will be forwarded under 
 strong guard without delay. I will send further particulars 
 at once. J, H. Wilson, 
 
 Brevet Major General. 
 
 (Second Dispatch.) 
 
 Washington, D. C, May 14, 1865. 
 Major General Halleck: Jeff Davis was caught in 
 the woods trying to escape in his wife's clothing.* So Wilson 
 reports. Edwin M. Stanton, 
 
 Secretary of War. 
 
 *Jn an article in preceding pages, written by one of the captors of 
 Davis and a member of Pritchard's command, it will be seen that the 
 "wife's clothing" part is wholly unwarranted, and indeed false. — Editor. 
 
 (From the Richmond Whig, ;May 17, 1865. Condensed from report of 
 Wilson to Stanton.) 
 
 Lieutenant Colonel Harden, with ist Wisconsin, met Colonel 
 Pritchard with 150 picked men from 4th Michigan on Davis' 
 
SOUTHERN NEWSPAPER EXTRACTS, ETC. 465 
 
 trail two miles from our camp. A fight ensued, the firing 
 being Davis' first warning. The captors report that he hastily 
 put on his wife's dress and started for the woods, followed 
 by our men, who thought he was a woman, but running, sus- 
 pected his sex at once. He was soon brought to bay. He 
 brandished a bowie knife of elegant pattern and showed signs 
 of battle, but yielded promptly to the persuasions of tlie Colt's 
 revolver without the men firing. Mrs. Davis remarked to 
 Colonel Harden that "the men had better not provoke the 
 President or he might hurt some of 'em." The party were 
 evidently making for the coast. 
 
 (Signed) J. H. Wilson, 
 Brevet Major General. 
 
FRESH SOLDIERS 
 By a Private in Co. G., Trenhoi.m's Squadron 
 
 My early experience as a soldier illustrates how little inex- 
 perienced soldiers may at times be trusted. 
 
 In 1864 Colonel W. L. Trenholm commanded, on the coast 
 of South Carolina, two companies of cavalry there known as 
 Trenholm's Squadron. In April of that year this squadron 
 was ordered to Richmond to form a part of the 7th South 
 Carolina Cavalry, to be commanded by Colonel A. C. Haskell, 
 of Columbia. We arrived at Richmond early in May and 
 went out on what was then called the "Military Road" to a 
 camp about four miles northeast of the city. 
 
 When the regiment was organized Trenholm's Squadron 
 composed Cos. A and G, I was a private in Co. G, and our 
 third lieutenant was W. G. Hinson, who is now, and has been 
 since the war, a Sea Island cotton planter on James Island, 
 near Charleston. After we had been in camp about two days 
 Sergeant Dunkin took a half-dozen of us to do picket duty 
 at Mechanicsville, some five miles north of Richmond. We 
 remained there three days, but killed no Yankees, saw none, 
 heard none. However, on returning to camp we felt as if we 
 were veterans. 
 
 After resting a day, ten of us were put under the command 
 of Lieutenant Llinson for a reconnoissance. I was one of this 
 dashing ten and we moved out on the Military road in proud, 
 confident and martial style to the Mechanicsville pike. Thence 
 north across the Chickahominy and up the long red hill to 
 Mechanicsville, where our road crossed another running about 
 east and west. From Mechanicsville we went northeast some- 
 thing like five miles, and nearing a residence we were hailed 
 by three young ladies and their mother, and on riding up to 
 
 466 
 
FRESH SOLDIERS 467 
 
 the gate we were given some fried chicken and biscuit. We 
 stopped while eating, but remained on our horses, and the 
 ladies entertained us royally in conversation, and evidently 
 were very much elated to learn that we were from South 
 Carolina, rejoicing at the opportunity of meeting and feeding 
 some of South Carolina's chivalrous cavaliers. Some of the 
 boys told them we were going out to hunt up the Yankees, 
 and if possible they were still prouder of us. After a while 
 we passed on and Virginia's beauties stood and gazed at South 
 Carolina's gallant cavaliers as long as we were in sight. After 
 going a mile perhaps we came to where there were dense 
 forests on both sides of the road, and silence pervaded our 
 ranks. I did not ask my comrades what they were thinking 
 about, but I expect some were thinking of fried chicken, some 
 of the beautiful young ladies. I reckon I was thinking of 
 home. I wanted to resign. At all events, I am satisfied we 
 were not thinking of Yankees. Thus we marched on when, 
 as suddenly as a thought and without seeing or hearing any- 
 thing, so far as I know to this day, the head of the column, 
 as if by magic, reversed and started back so quickly and so 
 fast that I was thrown in the rear ; but being in a hurry myself, 
 I kept my horse's head at the heels of the one in front of me. 
 Thus was begun and consummated one of the most rapid 
 retrograde movements made on either side during the whole 
 war. When we passed the house where the young ladies were, 
 they doubtless thought ten thousand man-eating Yankees 
 would come on in a minute, and that South Carolina's cava- 
 liers rode race-horses. My recollection is that I took time 
 to feel a little sheepish when passing the house on what could 
 appear to the ladies but a very sudden, swift, and earnest 
 return movement. We did not take time to look and see if 
 they were playing the part of grandstand spectators, but if they 
 were it would have taken two of them to see us pass — one 
 to say "here they come" and the other to say "there they go.'* 
 During this precipitous military maneuver none looked 
 back, so far as I know. I did not. After simply flying for a 
 half-mile or so past the house we checked up, but I did 
 not know how or why. My horse was perfectly willing to 
 move on — towards Mechanicsville. We rode out to the right 
 of the road fifty or sixty yards, dismounted and lay down 
 
468 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 on the ground for a few minutes, expecting, I reckon, to 
 see the Yankees run by us. We were disappointed, however. 
 We remounted and went back into the road, feehng glad that 
 the Yankees did not get us, and rode at leisure and in silence to 
 camp. I never did know what Lieutenant Hinson reported 
 as to this remarkable reconnoissance, but I do know that the 
 Richmond papers said nothing about it, nor was there any 
 unusual stir in Lee's army about it. 
 
 This ludicrous flight was caused from want of experience, 
 rather than a want of courage, for after our experience at 
 the second Cold Harbor a few days later, we had not only 
 to see the Yankees, but we had to be shot at before we 
 ran, and often did not run then. 
 
 The 7th South Carolina Cavalry proved to be one of the 
 best regiments in the service, and Lieutenant Hinson was one 
 of its best and bravest officers; and he stood with General 
 Gary and Colonel Haskell near the big chestnut tree at Appo- 
 mattox when the finale came and the Stars and Bars were 
 furled forever. 
 
CAMP LIFE AND PICKET DUTY ABOUT CULPEPER 
 AND FREDERICKSBURG, VA., IN 1863 
 
 By Dr. William B. Conway, Corporal Co. C, 4th Virginia 
 Regiment, Athens, Ga. 
 
 Our troopers of Virginia had many advantages over those 
 of other States. We were nearer our homes during the cam- 
 paigns of the Army of Northern Virginia. I had gone home 
 to exchange horses, for I always kept two good ones on hand, 
 and when one became disabled or broken down I would get 
 permission from my captain and in twenty-four or forty- 
 eight hours I would have made the exchange and be back 
 to my command. My first mount was a fine sorrel mare, 
 well bred and well suited for the cavalry service, except at 
 times, when she became unmanageable, taking these periodical 
 spells and persisting in going just in the opposite direction 
 from the one I wanted to go, and you can well understand that 
 that was not a pleasant experience for a cavalryman, espe- 
 cially when in close proximity to the enemy. I was having 
 some trouble with her on one occasion when under fire. 
 General Munford passed me in a gallop, and, checking up 
 his horse, said : "Be quiet with her, corporal ; treat her 
 kindly and she will go." I soon traded her off. I had 
 purchased her of Mr. James B. Newman, of Barboursville, 
 Orange County, Va. He was a wealthy planter and raised 
 a great many fine blooded horses, and, I think, furnished to 
 General "Jeb" Stuart that beautiful stallion, "Skylark," that 
 was lost on the Chambersburg raid. His negro man got drunk, 
 lay down and went to sleep, when some one stole the horse. 
 
 I spent the night at Mr. Newman's with his son, Barbour, 
 on the night of the battle of Slaughter's Mountain, Culpeper 
 County, Va., and witnessed from the top of the veranda of 
 
 469 
 
470 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 the house the pyrotechnic display of bursting shells from 
 Stonewall Jackson's cannon, as Pope was rapidly driven 
 back from his onward march to Richmond. 
 
 It was in the spring of 1863 that Fitz Lee's brigade was 
 camped on the Wallack place near Culpeper Court House, 
 Va. Our camp was in a beautiful piece of woods with clear 
 streams on either side. When I left camp for home I found 
 that the horse I had intended to ride back was not in a 
 condition to be ridden, and hence my father suggested that 
 I take one of the farm horses. I selected one I thought would 
 suit me best. The next morning I started back for camp, 
 when on arriving in the neighborhood of Madison Court 
 House, and while riding quietly along the road, a wild turkey 
 jumped from the fence down into the main road and stopped. 
 I was within about fifty yards of him. I quickly reined in my 
 horse, pulled my carbine from the boot on the saddle, pushed 
 in a cartridge, raised it to my shoulder and fired. Had it 
 been an eruption of Mt. Pelee this horse could not have 
 been more frightened. He wheeled with me and tried to 
 run, but I soon checked him up and rode back to where the 
 turkey was lying in the road with a bullet hole through his 
 head. In attempting to dismount from my horse my foot 
 caught under the leather covering of the big cavalry stirrup. 
 At that instant the turkey flopped his wings in its dying throes, 
 frightening my horse and causing him to wheel suddenly with 
 me. In the next instant he would have dragged me to death, 
 but, fortunately, I kept my hold on the reins and my hand in 
 his mane, and v/ith a mighty effort sprang into the saddle 
 again, saving myself from a horrible death. 
 
 A relative. Dr. Alfred Taliaferro, lived about a mile distant 
 from our camp near Culpeper Court Flouse. I took my turkey 
 to Mrs. Taliaferro, who had it sweetly cooked and daintily 
 served, and with corn bread she sent it to camp on the next 
 day, that being Thanksgiving Day. You can imagine how 
 we enjoyed it, with that keen appetite that belongs to a soldier. 
 
 In my company were two Mexican War veterans, Captain 
 W. Morgan Strother and George L. Rivercomb. The latter 
 enlisted in the Confederate Army in 1861, and was in a 
 short time honorably discharged on account of wounds 
 received in battle, but afterward enlisted under the banner of 
 
CAMP LIFE AND PICKET DUTY, ETC. 471 
 
 Colonel John S. Mosby, and was made corporal of Co. E in 
 that famous battalion. 
 
 The Carpenter family were very numerous in Madison 
 County, and we had at one time as members of the company 
 as many as ten or twelve. They made good soldiers, the 
 majority of them being killed or wounded during the war. 
 That reminds me that one of the most daring of the boys 
 preferred to join Mosby and his dashing rangers. His name 
 was T. A, Carpenter, of Co. F. In a fight in November, 
 1864, near Millwood, Va., between Mosby's command and the 
 14th Pennsylvania cavalry they met the adjutant of the ist 
 West Virginia Cavalry (Federal), who said: 'Ts that one 
 of Mosby's men?" The Pennsylvanian said that it was: 
 "You must not take any of them prisoners of war," said 
 the adjutant, and drawing his revolver shot the prisoner dead. 
 A cold-blooded murder ! 
 
 A tale was told some time ago by Judge Pennypacker, of 
 Philadelphia, in which he stated that in 1864 Sheridan, under 
 orders, burned every barn from the valley above Staunton, 
 Va., to a certain point below Winchester; a band of angry 
 Rebels followed this raid, watching for a chance to pick up 
 any stragglers. Among others who fell into their hands was 
 a little Pennsylvania Dutchman who quietly turned to his 
 captors and inquired : 
 
 "Vat you fellows going to do mit me?" The reply came 
 short and sharp : "Hang you." "Veel," he said meekly, 
 "vatever is der rule." His good-natured reply threw the Con- 
 federates into a roar of laughter, and saved his life. 
 
 I witnessed the execution of several Federals for barn 
 burning in the valley during the fall of 1864. Our young 
 people must not be taught to disregard facts concerning the 
 Civil War as they are brought out by their own people. 
 I do not wish to bring before the public the harrowing scenes 
 of the war for the purpose of stirring up strife or hard 
 feelings between the two sections. All we desire is justice 
 and fair play. These are historical facts, and unless our 
 people are taught these truths it is natural to suppose that 
 they cannot know what a sacrifice was made by the great mass 
 of Southern people during the gigantic struggle of the 'sixties. 
 A great m.any leaders on the Confederate side were Christian 
 
472 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 gentlemen, intelligent and steadfast in their faith; this country 
 has not produced greater men. They were not traitors, as 
 has been declared of President Davis, by the head of the great 
 government. 
 
 We take the following from the Confederate Veteran: "A 
 Miss Sue Allen, a school-teacher, of Louisville, Ky., tried to 
 make a little Miss Laura Gait sing 'Marching Through 
 Georgia,' but the little girl, true to her Southern teachings and 
 instincts, not only refused to sing, but put her fingers into 
 her ears and would not listen to the song. She states that 
 her teacher refused to listen to the essays in which she gave 
 the Confederates credit for bravery on land and sea." 
 
 No country can engage in war without having outrages 
 perpetrated upon non-combatants, for the worst element of the 
 human race often drifts into the armies of all nations, but 
 when the government itself, or those in authority, sanction 
 such outrages as were committed against our people in the 
 Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, in Georgia, and elsewhere, 
 we should pause and consider whether it was a civilized country 
 in which we then lived — a God-fearing country. 
 
 Orders of Butler in New Orleans, Milroy, Pope, Hunter, 
 Sheridan and Sherman and the unheard-of pillage, outrages, 
 and numberless insults that were heaped upon old people and 
 children by those men, were really illustrations indicating the 
 savagery of war, producing the sternest retaliation. During 
 the war at least sixty towns and villages were probably 
 destroyed by fire in our Southland by Federal soldiers, besides 
 hundreds of private houses. Sherman, in his official report, 
 when referring to his "marching through Georgia," said : "I 
 estimate the damage done to the State of Georgia and its 
 military resources at $100,000,000, at least $20,000,000 of 
 which have inured to our advantage, and the remainder is 
 simply waste and destruction." The Carolinas suffered 
 equally as much; the amount of damage done to the Southern 
 States can never be estimated. 
 
 The evidence against Sherman for burning Charleston, S. C, 
 is conclusive. The desolation and destruction among our 
 people in the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, was from a direct 
 order of General Grant to General Sheridan. Many letters 
 written from home to Confederate soldiers were filled with 
 
CAMP LIFE AND PICKET DUTY, ETC. 473 
 
 accounts of outrages, arson, rapine, and murder. The Vir- 
 ginia Military Institute was burned by Hunter. 
 
 It is true that Chambersburg was burned the next year 
 (one instance), but this was done without the knowledge or 
 consent of General Lee or President Davis. These things 
 may not be palatable to the taste of many of our Northern 
 friends, but are facts that we can not ignore in making 
 history. When we first went into Maryland a Northern man 
 wrote of our amiy in one of their papers as follows : 
 
 "They were a set of ragged gentlemen. They did not do 
 me half as much damage as the Union troops did when they 
 were camped on me, and if it were not for the name of the 
 thing I would say I very greatly prefer to have the Rebels 
 rather than our Union troops quartered on my premises." 
 
 One great drawback to the efficiency of the Confederate 
 cavalry was the difficulty we found in obtaining horseshoes. 
 Sometimes our horses would cast a shoe, go lame, and subject 
 us to the mortification of falling in with those who formed 
 Co. "Q." Every old calvaryman knows what is meant by Co. 
 Q. Those, for instance, who, for any good reason (and ofttimes 
 for no good reason at all), could not keep up with the com- 
 pany, fell back to the rear, banded themselves together and 
 called the disorganized band the above name. But the most 
 serious disadvantage which we encountered with the Yankees, 
 more especially during the latter part of the war, was when 
 they were paying enormous sums of money for foreigners 
 who could not speak a word of English. We fought them 
 generally when they had three to one; and ofttimes with a 
 larger percentage in their favor. This was not only the case 
 with our branch of the service, as the infantry and artillery 
 suffered in like manner, no doubt. 
 
 While a part of my company was doing picket duty, I 
 think it was in the summer of 1863, ^t the United States ford 
 above Fredericksburg, Va., on the Rappahannock River, I 
 had rather an unusual experience with a non-commissioned 
 officer in the Union army. The river there is about 1 50 yards 
 wide, and it was understood by mutual agreement that no 
 firing would be allowed by either side while on picket. One 
 day I strolled along up the river some hundreds yards from 
 the post, and soon noticed that I was followed on the opposite 
 
474 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 side of the river by this officer. We finally sat down on the 
 river bank and were soon in a conversation together. I found 
 him to be a clever fellow. He talked about his home folks and 
 the circumstances which brought him into the army and so 
 on, but would say but little about the war. It happened 
 on several occasions that w^e would leave our posts and take 
 this walk together. The last time we were together just 
 before leaving the ford, he insisted that I should come across, 
 bring him a plug of tobacco, and that he would give me in 
 exchange a pound of nice coffee. A large rock in the middle 
 of the stream answered as a resting place for me, and I soon 
 swam to it, and from there to him, where I remained a short 
 while talking to him. He finally told me that some of his men 
 might come upon us and get us into trouble, so giving me the 
 coffee, we shook hands and parted. Just as I was leaving 
 him he said : "Remember, Corporal, if I meet you in battle 
 I will not shoot you." 
 
 I made him the same promise and we parted. I do not 
 know to what regiment he belonged, but he was a young man 
 of more than ordinary intelligence. 
 
 That reminds me of a peach orchard near "Traveler's 
 Rest," below Fredericksburg, just across the river, to which 
 the boys would swim, but the river down that low was too 
 wide for me to venture across. The canal between Fred- 
 ericksburg and Marye's Hill was a favorite place for us to 
 swim our horses and enjoy a bath on a hot summer after- 
 noon. 
 
 The question was asked recently by a friend if there were 
 not two cavalrv parades near Culpeper Court House on June 
 8, 1863. "The Campaigns of Stuart's Cavalry," by H. B. 
 McClelland, states that on May 22, 1863, General Stuart 
 reviewed the three brigades of Hampton and the two Lees on 
 the field between Brandy Station and Culpeper Court House; 
 about 4000 men were present. Shortly after Jones' brigade 
 arrived from the valley and Robertson's brigade from North 
 Carolina and he appointed another review on June 5th, at 
 which time General Robert E. Lee was expected, but did 
 not come, and General Stuart was disappointed that he was 
 not present ; 8000 cavalry passed under the eye of their com- 
 mander on that occasion. It was then made known that 
 
CAMP LIFE AND PICKET DUTY, ETC. 475 
 
 General Lee would review the cavalry on June 8th and on the 
 same field. It was accordingly done, when Stuart's whole 
 corps passed in review before the great leader of the Army 
 of Northern Virginia. I did not remember that there was 
 more than one review about that time. 
 
AN INCIDENT OF THE BATTLE OF SHILOH 
 By a. J. Meadows, Co. G, 4th Tennessee Infantry 
 
 An incident of the battle of vShiloh which merits a place 
 in every history of the late war, I have never seen except in 
 Vaiighan's "History of the 14th Tennessee Infantry" — he 
 calls it the magnificent charge and capture of McCallister's 
 battery by the 14th Tennessee Infantry, We were in the 
 second line of battle. Captain McCallister said in a letter 
 to a friend in Memphis, "For three long hours my battery 
 pounded shot and shell into the 'Rebel' ranks until I was 
 heartsick resisting the repeated charges by the brigades, until 
 the 4th Tennessee 'slipped up' on us through the 'black jack' 
 and did their work quickly and nicely." I write from memory, 
 but the above is the substance, if not his precise words. 
 
 Our regiment was out of the line about 9 A. M. On April 
 6, 1862. we marched into the right of Shiloh Church, halted 
 on a ridge, when the bead of our cantain. Jolm vSutherland. was 
 taken off by a shell. Lieutenant Colonel O. F. Strahl was in 
 command — Brigadier General Stewart was busy. He yelled 
 out, "Colonel Strahl, can you take that battery? It is doing 
 us much harm." Colonel Strahl replied, "I can try, sir." The 
 regiment was moved to the left, so as to go up through 
 the "black jack." It was the heaviest field battery I ever 
 saw, all brass pieces, two of their guns set on a switch at 
 Oakland the remainder of the war, too heavy for field work 
 and too light for siege guns. 
 
 But to the story. When the regiment emerged from the 
 thicket our guns were emptied. We reloaded as we advanced 
 and fired the second time, and when within thirty steps of 
 the battery — I stepped the distance on the thirty-eighth anni- 
 versary of the battle — Colonel Strahl, doubting the ability of 
 
 476 
 
INCIDENT OF THE BATTLE OF SHILOH 477 
 
 the regiment to take the battery with empty guns, cried, in 
 a tone distinctly heard above the noise of battle, "Battalion 
 halt! Lie down! Load!" Then allowing time to load, he 
 gave the command not to be found in Hardie's Tactics, but 
 we knew what he meant, "Charge the battery." We "charged 
 the battery" and we took that battery from seven supporting 
 regiments of infantry, as shown by the map of the battle- 
 field. This was the most unequal and the most desperate 
 conflict that I saw or heard of during the war, and I was 
 "thar" from Belmont to Franklin. The point of interest in 
 this story is the "New Tactics" the gallant Strahl used in 
 making this charge. 
 
THE 1st GEORGIA REGULARS AT MALVERN HILL 
 
 By W. H. Andrews, ist Sergeant, Co. M, ist Regiment, 
 Georgia Regulars. 
 
 During the siege of Richmond in '62, the battle of Savage 
 Station was fought on June 29th, The Federals, being 
 defeated, withdrew to Frasier's Farm, several miles distant. 
 After the fight at Savage Station, Anderson's brigade returned 
 to the vicinity of the Peach Orchard and camped for the night, 
 the rain coming down in torrents. On the morning of the 
 30th, Anderson's brigade crossed the railroad, where we saw 
 a large, trap cannon mounted on a flat car in front of a 
 locomotive. We were halted for several hours, and during the 
 time Jackson's forces were marching to our left. The 
 Louisiana Tigers, 91 rank and file, with one commissioned 
 oflicer, passed us with their little smoked and bullet-riddled 
 flag. About ten o'clock, we marched to our right, keeping 
 up the step at a lively gait, and between two and eight o'clock 
 we could hear, in the direction we were going, the boom of 
 distant cannon, and a little farther on the roar of musketry. 
 Lee's forces had attacked the Federals at Frasier's Farm, 
 about twelve miles from Richmond. We marched rapidly in 
 the direction of the battlefield, and the nearer we got the 
 more distinct was the roar of the battle. When night over- 
 took us we were within three miles of the bloody field. We 
 met two cavalrymen with Major General McCall, U. S. A. 
 walking between their horses, a prisoner of war, captured on 
 the field. We did not arrive on the field until about three 
 o'clock in the morning of July ist, the most wearisome night 
 tramp that I was engaged in during the war. Troops marched 
 in fours and each man followed his file leader. The column 
 would halt, we would drop down on the ground to rest, and 
 almost by the time we were down, they would start in front; 
 up we would get, go a step or two, halt, drop down again, 
 and so on through the night. I \vas so worn out I would 
 
 478 
 
THE I ST GEORGIA REGULARS, ETC. 479 
 
 have been willing to have been shot the next morning to have 
 been allowed the privilege of going to sleep. The battle must 
 have raged until ten o'clock, and then everything was as still 
 as a graveyard, which it proved to be to thousands of poor 
 soldier boys on the bloody field. Finally, when the command 
 was given, "Halt! Front! Stack arms! Break ranks!" I 
 dropped at full length on my back and was fast asleep by the 
 time I struck the ground. Just as the sun showed his radiant 
 face I awoke, and the sight that met my gaze was photo- 
 graphed on my memory, there to remain until my dying day. 
 Just in front of me, and on less than one-fourth of an acre, 
 I counted forty-two dead horses, lying in groups of six, with 
 the harness on. I was hardened to the sight of dead men, 
 but those poor, helpless horses touched a tender chord in my 
 hardened heart. On turning my head so that I could see in 
 my rear, I discovered that I had been using a dead man for 
 a pillow. I cannot say that it bothered me in the least, as 
 my feelings were considerably benumbed by what I had passed 
 through within the last few days. The Gray and the Blue 
 were scattered around, showing that we had stopped where 
 the battle raged the evening and night before. The Con- 
 federates had captured twenty-nine pieces on that portion of 
 the field, having to kill a portion of the horses to keep the 
 enemy from carrying off the guns. The Federals, after the 
 fight, had again retreated, this time to Malvern Hill, on the 
 banks of the James River. A little after sunrise General 
 Anderson called his brigade to attention, arms were taken, 
 and we were ready for the events of the day. General 
 Anderson rode in front of his line, remarking as he did so, 
 "Boys, we will whip them out to-day and be done with it." 
 He then gave the command "Forward," and we marched in 
 line of battle to the front. We passed out of the field, then 
 through a piece of woods to another field, and halted. We 
 saw, about 200 yards in our front, an officer riding to our 
 left. The Rebel yell which followed was deafening, the officer 
 doffed his cap, spurred his horse, and was quickly out of 
 sight. It excited my curiosity to know what officer could call 
 forth such wild cheering when we had orders to keep perfectly 
 quiet. I was told it was General T. J. Jackson, the hero of 
 the valley. General Thomas Jonathan Jackson proved himself 
 
48o THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 to be the greatest military genius produced by the Civil War. 
 His campaign in the valley before his arrival at Mechanicsville 
 stamped him as one of the greatest generals of modern times. 
 The Federal Government sent three different commands, 
 each one outnumbering his own, under Generals Fremont, 
 Shields, and Banks, to rout Stonewall. Almost any other 
 general w^ould have retreated or commenced apologizing, not 
 so with Marse Tom. As they were marching on different 
 roads and not in supporting distance of each other, Jackson 
 advanced and routed the first, then the second, and third — a 
 Bull Run stampede to get out of Virginia. The Federals never 
 knew where he was only by the sound of his guns. When 
 he struck the right flank of McClellan's army it was supposed 
 that he was still in the valley. 
 
 We were then ordered by the right flank and moved rapidly 
 in the direction of the James River, and after going about 
 two miles, were ordered by the right about and returned in 
 the direction whence we came, with flankers on both sides of 
 the line of march. When within one and one-half miles of 
 Malvern Hill, we filed to our right down a small bank. The 
 brigade was marching left in front and General Anderson 
 gave the command to change front to left, by filing into line. 
 The 8th filed in, then the ist, 7th and 9th, and while the 
 nth was passing the ist, a 6-pound rifle shell from Malvern 
 Hill passed through both regiments, knocking out three men. 
 One had his thigh cut in two, another disembowled, and the 
 shell entered the left shoulder and passed out at the right hip 
 of the third one, then struck a twelve-inch tree, exploded, and 
 tore it down. Quite a rumpus for a small shell to cut up, 
 or rather down! 
 
 About three o'clock the battle opened, and in order better to 
 understand the battle that was fought at Malvern Hill, I will 
 to the best of my recollection describe the field. Dr. Mal- 
 vern's residence and farm was on the north bank of the James 
 River. His home was built on a bluff' at least 100 feet from 
 the water, and his farm extending about and below it on the 
 river bank, and at least one mile in front to heavy timbered 
 woods, which were much lower than the house, while the 
 clearing was badly broken and interspersed with ravines. 
 Near the house, report said, the enemy had in position seventy 
 
THE I ST GEORGIA REGULARS, ETC. 481 
 
 pieces of cannon, which could rake any portion of the field in 
 full view of the enemy's guns, which opened a terrible can- 
 nonade, while the brigade moved steadily to the front, and as 
 some of the boys put it, "Hell broke loose in Old Virginia." 
 The guns on the hill could be plainly seen as they belched 
 forth death and destruction, the shells, some of them, whirling 
 over our heads, while others burst in the ranks. It was a 
 scene never to be forgotten by the brave boys who were under 
 that terrible fire. The screeching and bursting of these demons 
 of destruction, as they came whirling through the air, with 
 the groans of the wounded and dying, were enough to blanch 
 the stoutest heart with fear. In addition, the gunboats in the 
 river were throwing a large number of 8-inch shells on the 
 field. Before reaching the hill our officers must have thought 
 that the assault was a little more than flesh and blood could 
 stand, and ordered a retreat. 
 
 Sergeant Baldwin, color bearer of the regulars, refused to 
 turn back at the point of an officer's sword. Sergeant W. J. 
 Garrett, my chum and boon companion, continued to advance 
 until near enough to pick off the gunners, when a sharpshooter 
 put him out of business by shooting him through the thigh. 
 It takes more nerve to retreat under fire than it does to 
 advance, and the bravest of soldiers will become demoralized. 
 They do not like the idea of being shot in the back, for fear 
 they will be accused of being wounded while running out of 
 the fight, and all soldiers prefer to fall facing the enemy. 
 
 The hill was assaulted by different lines of battle, during 
 the evening, all to be hurled back to the woods. Our batteries 
 would dash into the field to be cut to pieces and retire, unable 
 to withstand the terrible storm of iron from the guns on the 
 hill. Just below the hill a creek emptied into the river, on 
 the bank of which was a piece of woods in which most of the 
 fighting was done by Jackson's men. The battle raged in all 
 its fury until 9 or 10 P. M. when the Confederates retired 
 from the field and camped for the night. The Little Corporal 
 had fought General Lee to a standstill, having everything 
 pretty much his own way, and Malvern Hill was another 
 Gettysburg, and will go down in history as one of the bloodiest 
 battles of the war, the loss on both sides being heavy. After 
 the battle the Little Corporal retreated down the James. 
 
482 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 During the 2d and 3d of July General Lee remained on the 
 field, burying the dead, and on the 4th went in search of his 
 friends, finding them at Harrison's Landing, thirty miles 
 below Richmond, bottled up in the bend of the river, with their 
 gunboats around them, a position that could not be spoiled. 
 While on picket duty in front of the bend I had a good look at 
 General Stonewall Jackson, who was riding along the picket 
 fence by himself. There was nothing about him that would 
 indicate a dashing soldier. His uniform was badly spoiled, 
 and he was mounted on a very poor horse ; besides, he was the 
 most ungainly horseman to be an officer of rank that I saw 
 during the war. His stirrup leathers must have been six 
 inches short, drawing his knees near the pommel of the saddle, 
 with his toes turned in behind the horse's foreshoulder. He 
 was a medium-sized man, something under six feet, and 
 weighing between 140 and 160 pounds. While at the bend I 
 heard more cheering than at any time during the war. I was 
 told that President Lincoln was reviewing the army. The 
 seven days' fighting around Richmond was done by raw 
 troops, and we might say raw officers, as there had been but 
 very little fighting up to that time and nothing to compare to 
 any one of the seven days. General Lee gained not only fame, 
 but the love and confidence of his soldiers, which he not only 
 retained but increased up to the surrender at Appomattox. 
 General G. B. McClellan proved to be one of the best generals 
 that had the honor to command the Army of the Potomac. 
 His retreat under the fire of the Confederates was a feat few 
 generals could have performed. He moved his army through 
 White Ash Swamp on a single road, without the loss of a 
 wagon. Had he been allowed to carry out his own convic- 
 tions in regard to the war, things might have terminated very 
 differently from what they did. He proposed to advance on 
 Richmond from the south side of the James, as General Grant 
 did at the end of the war, but President Lincoln was afraid 
 to have the Army of the Potomac move from between the 
 two Capitols, for fear there might be a swapping of queens. 
 He was a humane man, and conducted the war on humane 
 principles, and the Boys in Gray who faced his guns will 
 respect his memory until the last one has passed away. On 
 July 9th the army under Lee left the bend and returned to 
 
THE I ST GEORGIA REGULARS, ETC. 483 
 
 Richmond, and Anderson's brigade went into camp on the 
 Darbytown road, where the brigade, with Magruder's com- 
 mand, was assigned to General Longstreet's corps. During 
 the siege of Richmond General Lee weighed his generals, 
 and several were found wanting and lost their jobs. On July 
 24th Anderson's brigade was sent to New Market Heights, 
 where the regiments took turns doing picket duty at Malvern 
 Hill. On August 5th McClellan recaptured Malvern Hill, 
 there being only a small Confederate force to defend it. 
 While Longstreet's corps was marching rapidly for the hill 
 we halted and dropped down by the roadside to rest. While 
 resting, a troop of horsemen passed, going to the front. Rid- 
 ing at the head of the troop were General Lee and President 
 Davis, the Secretary of War, and General Longstreet, then 
 several major generals with their cavalry escorts bringing up 
 the rear. There was not so much as a whisper among the 
 soldiers. Everyone seemed intent on hearing what they were 
 talking about. Every eye was on General Lee, and well they 
 might be, for he had the grandest and most commanding 
 appearance of anyone that I have ever seen, and was the most 
 graceful rider I ever saw mounted on a horse. He must have 
 been something over six feet in height, weighing between 160 
 and 170 pounds, with an erect, military figure. He wore a 
 plain gray uniform with military boots, and a black felt hat. 
 The lapels and collar of his coat were turned down, showing 
 his white shirt and black necktie. He wore a heavy, closely 
 trimmed beard and mustache, and his eyes were black and as 
 piercing as those of an eagle. He was mounted on "Traveler," 
 his famous battle horse, which shared with his famous rider 
 the love and admiration of the soldiers. He was a very dark, 
 iron gray, tall and well proportioned, with a beautiful head 
 and neck, stepping as though he disdained the ground he 
 walked on. He lived to follow the general to his grave, and 
 not long afterward he died in great agony with the lockjaw, 
 caused by sticking a nail in his foot. After his death a taxi- 
 dermist rigged him up, and to-day he can be seen at Lexing- 
 ton, Va., as natural as life. It was reported that the enemy 
 had left Malvern Hill, and the corps returned to camp. 
 
THE CONFEDERATE SURGEON 
 By G. H. Tichenor, Surgeon, C. S. A. 
 
 The Confederate surgeon was permitted to view from 
 every standpoint the bloody carnage going on from day to 
 day during the four years' fighting of the most terrible battles 
 ever fought by any nation. Empty-handed as he was, it did 
 not deter him for a moment from braving every danger, 
 seeking the wounded on the field of battle, in the hospitals 
 doing all he could to alleviate the suffering of the men who 
 fell in battle; often crying aloud a benediction for the souls 
 of the soldiers that lay around still in death; ever searching 
 for the wounded in order to render all the aid possible. 
 
 Again we see him bending over the dying to hear the last 
 message to a dear mother, father, sister, or loved one that 
 fondly awaits his return. 
 
 No one but an army surgeon can realize the ordeal they 
 pass through in order to hearken to the cry for relief from 
 the wounded, often perplexed for the want of medicine and 
 instruments to perform life-saving operations, yet we can but 
 marvel at the great work performed by the Confederate sur- 
 geon. Medicines and medical appliances were contraband and 
 prohibited from entering the Southern States. Confederate 
 surgeons were compelled to depend largely on domestic 
 remedies as substitutes for staple drugs that were soon ex- 
 hausted. This fact, no doubt, gave a basis for some of the 
 prescriptions of the present day. The noble women of the 
 South contributed their knowledge of the medical virtue of 
 boneset tea, willow bark, briar root. May apple root, sage tea, 
 yellow jasmine, and many other remedies. Happily, it is all 
 over now. It is now hard to find one whose heart is so dead 
 to human impulses that it fails to throb, or whose eye fails to 
 
 484 
 
THE CONFEDERATE SURGEON 485 
 
 kindle as the flag of our united country spreads its folds to the 
 breeze, eloquent with America's achievements — that flag that 
 our ancestors followed in their march to freedom — and yet, 
 while yielding our love and admiration to it as the emblem of 
 our country and its greatness, there still remains a corner 
 down in our hearts where is cherished as some precious 
 memento of loved ones dead, our old Confederate flag. The 
 Stars and Bars, hallowed by sacred memories, while no longer 
 the flag of a coMntry, yet eloquently tell of the heroism 
 and glory of the Confederate surgeon and the brave soldiers 
 of the Confederacy, the men who went forth to do battle for 
 our beloved Southland. The memories of the days of the 
 'sixties, the war time, the battle days, the days in the long 
 rows in hospitals, and the groans of the wounded on battle- 
 fields, all these memories come like ghosts from the grass- 
 shrouded graves, and they follow our footsteps on life's wind- 
 ing ways, and they continually murmur about us as murmur 
 the waves that sigh on the shore. 
 
SOME EXPERIENCES IN THE NAVY 
 
 By a. L. Grow, Engineer 
 
 Tired of a city life, and eager to see something of the 
 world, I left my Michigan home in 1857, went to New York 
 and enlisted in the navy, and in a few days sailed for China. 
 After three years' service in that country and Japan, I re- 
 turned to New York, re-enlisted, and again went to Japan 
 in the U. S. S. Niagara, which took the Japan Embassy to 
 that country. Returning in April, 1861, we found that civil 
 war had broken out. Thirteen of the Niagara's officers 
 resigned. I remained on the ship, which in a few days sailed 
 for the blockade off Charleston, S. C. One day the Confed- 
 erates thought to capture a fine ship, and as the Niagara had 
 no outward appearance of being a man-of-war (being clipper 
 built), and showing no guns, two steamers came out from 
 Charleston, crowded with soldiers and civilians, and separated 
 near us, with the idea of one coming on the port side and the 
 other on the starboard. The Niagara was bow on to the com- 
 ing steamers, so she gave a few turns of the engine, that she 
 might get steerage-way, let go all ports, and ran out all the 
 gims, — twelve 11 -inch ones. It was certainly amusing to see 
 those steamers get back into harbor. One of them could not 
 turn, so made for, and got into, Stono Inlet, eight miles down 
 the coast. The Niagara was relieved by the Huntsville, and 
 we went to Pensacola, but stopped at Havana and took in 
 coal. From Pensacola we went to Mobile, Southwest Pass, 
 and Galveston, establishing blockades at each place. We were 
 engaged at Pensacola in the attack on Forts McRey and Bar- 
 racas, when Fort Pickens fired upon the Navy Yard at War- 
 rington, The Niagara was at all ports between Key West 
 and Galveston during the summer of 1861. In February, 
 
 486 
 
SOME EXPERIENCES IN THE NAVY 487 
 
 1862, we were at Key West as the flagship. At that time the 
 mails came as far as Havana by the California steamers, and 
 some vessel would usually go over there when mail time came. 
 
 About this time the Stimmersett, a ferry boat that had run 
 between New York and Jersey City, was turned into a gun- 
 boat, armed, and sent to the gulf station. As no other vessel 
 was handy, she was sent to Havana for the mail. On her 
 return, as she came by Moro Castle, black smoke was seen to 
 the eastward. This was a pretty sure sign of a blockade- 
 runner. She ran down and, on getting within hailing distance 
 of the vessel, hailed her. "Ship ahoy! Hello! What ship is 
 that?" said the Stimmersett' s captain. "The Bermuda, from 
 Nassau to Mobile," was the reply. "But there is a blockade 
 on at Mobile." "Yes, but we can best the bloody Yankees, 
 don't you know?" was the response from the Bermuda. 
 "Well, heave to," came from the Summersett. "But I am in 
 a hurry, don't you know?" "Heave to, or I will fire!" So 
 they stopped. A boat from the Summersett was lowered, and 
 an officer sent on board the Bermuda. Reaching the deck, he 
 accosted an officer, saying, "Are you the captain of this ship ?" 
 "I am," said the officer. "Well, you are a prize to the U. S. S. 
 Summersett/' was the reply. Now the captain's English blood 
 grew hot, and he said, "I would not mind so much being cap- 
 tured by a man-of-war, but the idea of being taken in by a 
 bloody crab I" She proved to be a good prize. 
 
 In March we were at Ship Island, getting ready for the 
 attack on New Orleans, but Farragut came and took the West 
 Gulf squadron and the Niagara became the flagship of the 
 East Gulf, with headquarters at Key West. Having served 
 my time, in June I went home, but the next month I was back 
 in the navy and on board the U. S. S. Montgomery. We were 
 ordered to the gulf in September, and on the way there we 
 called at Havana to deliver dispatches. We lay off the port, 
 not entering. When we got ready to leave we saw black 
 smoke to the northwest, and ran for it, to learn that it was 
 the General Rusk, a blockade-runner from Galveston. We 
 tried to "take her in" but she was beached, and as our boats 
 were approaching her, they set her on fire. We then left for 
 Pensacola, and were on the blockade, mostly off Mobile, the 
 remainder of the year. In December we were selected, with 
 
488 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 two other ships, to go in and cut out the Confederate Florida, 
 which lay under the guns of Fort Morgan. She had run in 
 past the blockaders by flying French colors some time before 
 this. She was afterward captured at Bahia, Brazil, and 
 brought to the United States, and "accidentally" sunk in 
 Hampton Roads. 
 
 This attempt to cut out the Florida was to take place on the 
 night of January 5, 1863. We had all been drilled as volun- 
 teers and were armed with a pike, pistol, and cutlass. The 
 pistol had been altered from a flint-lock to a cap, and had the 
 appearance of having been used at Ticonderoga. On January 
 2d a ship came in, bringing the mail, and in that mail came 
 orders for the Montgomery to return North, and it was 
 reported that her captain, — Charles Hunter, — was to be tried 
 by court martial for the destruction of the General Rusk at 
 Havana in October. It was also stated that it was done at 
 the instigation of "Her Catholic Majesty," the Queen of 
 Spain. This broke up the attempt to cut out the Florida, and 
 before another ship was gotten ready, she escaped and got to 
 sea. 
 
 The Montgomery arrived in New York about the middle 
 of January, and we were transferred to the receiving ship 
 Ohio. 
 
 Captain Hunter was tried and dismissed ( ?), but as soon as 
 our cause grew brighter, he was restored and promoted. After- 
 ward he was lost on the Villa de Paris. He was a thoroughly 
 efficient officer and a good man. 
 
 About the last of February I was "drafted," and was sent 
 to the monitor Nantucket, then about to go South. After get- 
 ting on board I learned zvhy I was "drafted." At that time 
 it was very difficult to get men of experience for the engine- 
 rooms. My experience had all been about these rooms. All 
 of the twenty- four men in the lireroom were young men from 
 the Western States, and with no idea of their duties. I was 
 the only shipped man that had been at sea before, and four 
 out of the six engineers were new hands. 
 
 The Nantucket sailed for, and arrived off the coast of 
 Charleston about the middle of March, and at once went on 
 duty as a blockader. About the first of April all of the iron- 
 clads — eight in all — assembled off Fort Sumter for the pur- 
 
SOME EXPERIENCES IN THE NAVY 489 
 
 pose of making a demonstration against that fort and Fort 
 Moultrie on Sullivan's Island. This was under Admiral Du- 
 Pont. On the morning of April 7th we took our stations, led 
 by Captain John Rodgers in the Weehawken, followed by the 
 Fatapsco, Captain Stephens. The Nantucket was the fifth in 
 line, Captain D, McN. Fairfax. There were 432 guns trained 
 on us, to our 16. There was another, — the Whitney Battery, 
 — but she "lasted very quick." Sunk next morning. We 
 were under a dreadfully hot fire for forty minutes. No damage 
 of much consequence was done. The men were killed through 
 their own carelessness. The Nantucket received three shots 
 between the portholes, which dented in the side of the turret 
 so that one of the port shutters would not open, thereby mak- 
 ing one of the guns useless for a time. I saw that was the 
 trouble, and was able to have things again in order very soon, 
 for just as soon as we came to anchor out of range I repaired 
 the matter. 
 
 The iron-clads were held at Port Royal and North Edisto 
 until about the first of July, when they assembled off Charles- 
 ton again, under Admiral Dahlgren, as "the army was about 
 to take Charleston." On the morning of July 5th the Nan- 
 tucket, with the Pazvnee, went in over the bar at Stono Inlet, 
 at the south end of Morris Island, and opened fire into the 
 woods at that place, and when all was ready, the sailors under 
 command of Lieutenant Commander F. M. Bunce made a 
 landing, and cleared the way for the army under Gillmore. 
 This started the siege of Charleston. The iron-clads were 
 kept busy all summer. On July 19th, when in action, a shot 
 struck the deck of the Nantucket, — a glancing shot, — and 
 knocked a hole through, over the engine room. A piece of the 
 deck — about nine pounds in weight — came down and struck 
 me on the right shoulder blade, and then went down, injuring 
 me in the body. In October we were ordered to Warsaw 
 Sound, Georgia, to watch for an iron-clad reported building 
 at Savannah. The Atlanta had been captured there by the 
 Weehawken previously. In January we were ordered back to 
 Charleston, where we remained until Charleston was captured. 
 
 On July 25th I was promoted to be an engineer, and I 
 remained on the Nantucket until May 24, 1864, when I was 
 ordered to the U. S. S. Massachusetts, and on August ist to 
 
490 THE WAR OF THE 'SIXTIES 
 
 the Larkspur at Port Royal. In July, 1865, I resigned, but 
 the next month was "restored." 
 
 While this is a little outside the war history, perhaps the 
 incident will be of interest. In September I was ordered to the 
 Monadnock, that was to make the trip from Philadelphia to 
 San Francisco. The voyage was made with this monitor. 
 Arrived in San Francisco in June, 1866, and was nearly lost 
 off Point Conception. We were fifty two hours under water. I 
 remained in service till October, 1868, having been to the 
 Hawaiian Islands in the Vanderbilt, and to Alaska in the 
 Saginaw. 
 
 V 56 
 

 
 
 
 
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