Cop)TightN^. H-4^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. ^-iT- M) \? CAMP AND FIELD. SKETCHES OF ARMY LIFE WRITTEN BY THOSE WHO- FOLLOWED THE FLAG. '6F65. - vcompiHed by / w. f/hinman, Author of "'Corporal Si Klegg and his Pard,'^ etc. ILLUSTRATED. n OC ' ^ ' " " CLEVELAND. 0.: THE N. G. HAMILTON PUBLISHING CO. SL (K^^ COPYRIGHT 1892, BY N. G. HAMILTON, CLEVELAND, O. THE VICKSBURG DAILY CITIZEN, '. Vol.. IX. Nt). iS.V VICKSBURG. MISS. PRicEjfS.oo Per Year. The Daily Citizen. J. H. SIVORD yiCKSBURtJ, MISS.: TtinrMlar, July ad, lS«s< . ST-Mra. Ciico WM instantly killed on MoDduy. on Jnckson Road. Mn. Cisco's husband is now in Virginia, ft member of Moody's ftrtillcry. and the death of such a loving, affecti'inato and duttfltl ifife^will be a foM to him irreparable. E^WeVB Indebted lo Major OilleB- pie for a steak of Confederate beef, alias friends thatif it is rendered nccesaary.ttiey need baT« noscruftl^a at eating the meat. It ia sweet, aavory and tender, and ao long M we have a mule left, we are 8atj86cd oar toldi«ri will bo content to lubeiit oo it. ya^qraat'a forces did a little finng on Tuesday aftOmooa,but the balance of that day was comparatively quiet. Yesterday morniDg they were very still, and con- tinued BO until early in the afternoon, when they apniDg a mine on thtleft of our nd opened fire along the linp f< ascertain anything dc6nitGly a but as officers were on the loo move of the enemy. tlie expect Yankees were not realised by been able ;o kout for this ationsofthc a great deal EF-Jerry Askew, one of c Uemed merchant citizen^ w at the works in the rear of o days since, and breathed his day. Mr. Askew wiia 11 young integrity, great indusiry, aud AS wounded r city a few astonMoD- tan of strict lily and friends. of Cowan's artillery, and by t charge of his duties and his c who doetli all things well. portioned od what would do hir briff iolerval tliat will ensue before the cf human kiodnesa" had not dried up. pk'hethen ihavcbecnp,(id,and whom; and If so. let a brand not only be placed upon their brow, but let * ed into their Tery brain, tiio ity may scorn and shun thei woold the portals of hell itself. they Good Nkws. — In devoting a large por- tion of our space tbis morning to Federal intelligence, copied from tho Mcmph Bulletin of the S6ch, it should be remcL bered that the news, in the original trut is whitewashed by the Federal Prove Marshal, who de^irea to hoodwink the poor northern while slaves. The formi Yankeedom, ai working at W are. This paper at present is in duress, tind edited by a pink-nosed, slab-sided, toad- eating Yankee, who isa lineal deeccndunt of Judas Iscariot, and a brother germain of the greatest Puritanical, sycophantic, howling scoundrel onhung — Parson Browulow. Tet with aucb a character, this paper cannot cloak the fact that Gen. Kobcrt £. Lee has given Hooker, Milroy & fthc udHi and BouodeBtwhippingi ■ e "gnlorioupUnioi ' teak in the knees. GEN. ItOBERT E. LEE UIIN. Again we have reliable oewa from the gallant corps of Gen. Lee in Virginia. Eluted with succeas, encouraged by a scries crossing the Rappahannock, defeating Hooker's right wing and thence through the Shenuiuloah Vulley, driving Milroy from WinchcstL-r and capturing «, 000 of his men and a large amount of valuable r all dcscriptious,re-cnteriag Mary- ling land, holding Ilogerstown, thrt WasliingtoQ citv, and within a fc of ItuUimorG— onwai J and upward their striking terror lo the heart of all Ysnkee- dom. Like the Scottish chieftain's bravca, Lee's men arc springing up from moor and brake, crag and dile, with flushing steel great cause of national independence, right and honor. To-day the mongrel ad- ministration of Lincoln. Jike Japhel.arc in Heaf.'h of I. futhcr, for llieir old Abe has departed for parts unknown. Terror reigns in their halls. Lee is to the left of them, to the right of them, in front of Ihcm, and all around them, and daily do we expect to hear of liia being down on them. Never were the French in Algeria more put out by the mobile raids of Ab Del Kadir, than arc the Fcdcraleof Maryland, Washington City.Pennsylvania and Ohio, Iry. Like Paddy's fli-a are they to the forhis kind consideration for their wc I On Tuesday he fired a few sheila fioi) Parrots, and kept his men tolerably buHy Fcdernls— no now ll>ey ha I't. The omnipresence o Ihev. throwing dual in tlv *.n the heels of tho panic eight hours, capturing ou pLie night be expected. The been used for nearly r fool, he midit as well .-GniPTra.— Gei ricken Federals in .Varylnnd and Peni Ivania, clearly prove that Lee just no the right man in the right place. We lay before our readers in this ian 1 oQcountof Lee'sbrii;iant and successfi onslaught upon the abolition hordes, ar to the hilt with thei fantry haa told its fatal leaden tutc. ~ "ny Maryland ia ours, to-m cral Smith': gularly un( gallant men whoac valor and worth the iiegehaa fully developed, and whose death ia a great public calamity. Lieut-Col, Griffin, commanding the Slxt Louisiana regiment, waskilled on Saturday. He was • popular and efficient officer. Gifted by nature with undaunted courage, indomita- ble resolution and energy, he wasalso poa> •eased of quick determination, keen glance »od coolacsd in danger, which are the most essential qualities of an officer, while by his mingled firmness and clemency of hia conduct, h -■- - - - . vilUf hi t^"We have heretofore refrained from ourcituens. We rcferto the laxdiscipline of some of our company officers in allow- ing their men to prowl around, day and night,and purloin fruit, vegetnblcB. chick* COB etc. from our denizena, and. in tlie ma- jority of cues, from those whose chief sub- sistence is derived therefrom. Thischnrgff but is cqu.illy, if mil mainly, attributublc the wugiiners ami others in charge of nala. Scv, (nowledgc wherein the offenders have, in jpen dayliglit, /entered premisea, seized cattle and other things,and defied the onii- tceth. We are pained to leiirn Vickaburg, \Vm. Portcrflcld, was under the in protecting hia property, to wound oi of two soldiers and deprive another of li life. We fully appreciate the fatigue, ban ships Bud privations to^which our men a tbjected ; but upon inqui ributii uUtli condtonunei of those gallui urth, and ruchcondu ' U i.tttPia'iff&li'Sifhl'Qfj S? r military authorities. exposure, mortifying c hope that a salutary a may be made by On liiT.— That the great Ulyi Yankee Generalissimo, anrnamed Grant— has eipreaaed his intention of di Vicksburg on Saturday next, and celobrat' inglhc 4lh of July by a grand dim uia iovi Gen. Jo. Johnston to join he said: "Not for fenr there would be a row at the table.' Ulysses must get into the city before hi dines in it. Tho w«y to cook a iftbbit is^ •■first catcb the rabbit." Ac. - TINKEE lEWS FfKW ALL rOIITS. PHiLADKLruu. June 81, 2:30 a. The following is all the news of interest in the Washington Star: Major Dramll, of t)ie United States vol- unteers, received intelligeoce irom Fay- ettc county. Pa., this rooming, that the Pittsburgh, via tho National road leading from Cumberland acroaa the Alleghany Mountains. Their pickets had reached Grantaville, Md.. ihirty-eight milea from Uoioutown, Fayette county Pa., on Wednesday evening last. It is reported in Washington to-day that of lIo< staff V bled up by guerillas Is HAnniBBcno, ' June 20.— Operation were commi^nccd on our side to-day by i portion of a N. Y. cavalry regiment, cap wcnty rebel prisonera at McCon Isbur; nly. B sqUMd of rebels who were m We hold Chambersburg.snd ngaud fortifying the Couch had ordered t .Thef.,rtificfllions finished and arc con be 8,000 strong fn and Willi I hold the oorth'bankof the cr. from Cumberland to Har- Gen. Kelley drove them out 1 they left they Willinmaport with 20,000 n ut this ia considered doubtful. F-1EDKHICK, Md,. June 20.— The enc ly's crtviihy left Doonsboro Inal evening fter capturing a number of horses. au< turned to IL.geratown. Six thousand infantry are reported ti avc crossed at Williamaport. ' It is not be evcd that they will visit Frederick. yhaa nearly 0,000 infantry thi. t SharpubuTg, and thi cr are encamped between WillinmFiport nd Itagcrstown. No artillery haa been ■Et over nor have any trtKipa crossed ince y<^sterdny morning. left Willli :>thc 1 cd at Chai 1 bodv of hia libera north. Tho cavalry force 200. r Jenk The party wh Irccncastle and Chanibcrsburg numbered nly 650. . WAsniKaTON,.Tune 23.- The Richmond Dispatch of theSlstcontainathc following: Dispatches received yesterday from Sa- ipturebytliccnemy gal. >nfedc) apers of the 20th eny tlie city ., wiis burned by the Feder- ilackencd chimneys. Seven ads were at Brunswick, Gil , cea had landed from trans- [idlgbum has run the block- luiiiigtou. He is going to Pa., dispatch to ■ ■ ■ jnsscd ih ath700n of Wayn. le Herald gIuIcb that ough Grcencastto last >unlcd infantry, in the 'illiam lirclei i||^irse^s. I cetvcd here late t)t4s evetilog, states that % rebel cavalry fores is within eight miles of Gettysburg. New YoBK, Jone 21, — A HarriBburj dispatch to-night contaias the following; "The rebels are reported 40,000 strong at Uagerstown and fortifying," A Herald's apecial from Mnnocacy Sta- tion, Sid., the Slat, saya: About4 o'clock p.m.. Major Cole, of tho 1st Maryland cav- alry, made a gallant dash into Frederick, with40men, driving out'the enemy, kill- ing tfm and capturing one. Mo loss oo ear side. Oui cavalry poasod through the city, and immediately aiter s^out fifteett hun- dred rebel «avalry re-uccupied the (own. The rebel cavalry entered Frederick about S o'clock and dashed furiously through the city, capturing nine of our men at the signal station, and paroled the invalid soldiers, numbering aboat sixty. In the-hospital. A oomber of horses were the Central Hotel, tccted thereto wel jority of the popul a col- therebela. evinced no pless- Theladieawereexcecd- gly expreeaivo in their demonalrationa of disgust, and ahowered words of symp»- thy upon our prisoners U thej passed through the town. The rebels are reported to be fortifying at South Mountain. They have in the vi- cinity of Willinmaport about six thousand infantry, one thousand cavalry, and a few pieces of artillery. A squadron of cavalry could ■ undoubtedly capture the eotirt force this side of &>uth.MoMntaiD, good-feeling, at s prominent hospital of this city, through the ministerial offices of a chaplain of a gallant regiment. Charles Royal, Prince Imperi;il of Ethiopia, of the Rcrberigo family, espoused the lovely and accomplished R"Ha Glass, Arch Duchess of Scncgamhia, one of the most celebmtei Princesses of the Laundrcssima Rcgima. The aa.nir was conducted with great mng- nificence, though as is usual in troublous timeSftheGablcrelementwaB predominant. The foe may hurl their deadly bolts ■ And think we are a'frghted. Well may we- scorn them— silly dolts — Our Blacks a lited. Victimized.— We learned ot an in- ilance wherein a "knight of the quiir'and k disciple of tho "black art," with malice m their hearts and vengeance in their eyes, ruthlessly put a period to the existence of I venerable feline, that has for time not n-ithintho recollection of the "oldest in- labitnnt," faithfuIlydiBcharged the duties .o be expected of him, to the terror of aun- iry vermin in Ins neighborhood. Poorde-, 'unct Thomas was then prepared, not for the grave but the pot, and several friends itcd to pnrt.-tkc of a nice rabbit. As a ttcr of course no ono would wound the feelings of another, especially in these times, by refusing a cordial invitation to ', and the guests assisted in consum- ing the poor aniniid with a relimh tliat did " .nortotheircpicurenntnstcs. Tho "sold" sure us that meat was delicious, and that *Bfj must look out for her safety. ET'TheFcdcnil General McClcrnand, [til recently outside the rear of our ciiy. has been superseded. He and Oram could lot run in the same liarncsa. lie wiis for iplurgiugandOrant for gassing— both got lie loggerheads. So poor Mac. had td cave and Grant lias all hia own way. ^"ThcYaiiksoutsideourcityarecoo- i.ierably on the akk lisU Fever, dyscn- ery and disgust are their compuniou,and Jrant is their master. : The boyaare dc- ertfng daily, and arc crossing the river io theregionof Wftrrenton,cur8iogGrantBud ionistS' generally. Tho boys are upon the cart^ -delving, the burrow- he bad water and tho hot wcathea. iEOtrr.—ThcNatloaal Intelligencer of Washington has closed its long career n a su&pen;>iiin and a sale of its ejects at oclion. It has been Highly respectable nd very mischievous in its day and gene- ntion. An old Uutou prop fulls with it. P'topli JuLVfth; 1803. .., Two dsyfl bring about great changes. en— urge Southc ill tu vutualik hcrcaftui /// {Memory of OUR FALLEN HEROES and to OUR HONORED yETERANS This Volume is Gratefully TDedicated. PRKFACK. This book is in the nature of a "campfire," around which "the boys " who conquered the great rebelhon recount their adven- tures in "Camp and Fiekl. All the sketches herein contained were written by men who participated in the events they narrate. The swiftly passin<^ years are fast whitening the heads of the old soldiers. As the survivors of the war grow older, the fra- ternal feeling for one another grows stronger. So it will be until the last of them shall have been "mustered out." To them, and the friends of those who have passed over to the majority, this volume is dedicated, in the belief that many of them will find upon its pages much that will interest them and recall the stir- ring scenes of a quarter of a centur\' ago. Jan. 1,1893. W. F. H. TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE. An Anecdote of Jeb Stuart ■ 33' A Battle in the Clouds 313 A Chickamauga Experience 192 A Death Wound that did not Kill 4.69 An English Steamer Captured 571 A Flag with a History 72' A Fighting Chaplain 138 A Fierce Duel for Life 399 A Glimpse of Stonewall Jackson 459 A Houseful of Northern Generals 98 A Hot Fight at Peach Tree Creek 376 An Incident at Peach Tree Creek 272 A Joke in the Thick of Battle 505 Array Life in Washington '.:.. 456 Assault on Fort Wagner 255 A Presentiment of Death 26 A Premonition 130 Admiral Porter's Reminiscences 526 A Romance of the War 423 A Shot Fired at the Wrong Time 105 A Surgical Wonder 107 A Story of Shiloh 208 A Scout's Wonderful Adventure 522 Army Teamsters 32 A Town of Ruins 536 Across the Rapidan 342 Archer's Tennesseeans at Spottsylvania 349 A War Romance 85 Battle and Assault at Plains Store and Port Hudson. 185 Battle of Allatoona '..... 411 Battle of Antietam lit! O CONTEXTS. Bai^tle of Antietam 113 IButler "Bottled Up" 53 Battle of Brandy Station 188 iBattle of Chickamauga 264 Battle of Corinth 134 Battle of Fair Oaks 92 Battle of Hanover Court-House 82 Battles of luka and Corinth 131 Born in a Battle 305 Battle of Lookout Mountain 303 Battle of Prairie Grove 233 Beauregard's Pulse in Battle 505 Battle of Pea Ridge 47 Battle of Raymond 161 Battle of Spottsylvania 346 Battle Scenes at Shiloh 57 Battle of Vicksburg 178 Circumstances Alter Cases 339 Capturing a Spy ' 454 -Case\''s Division at Fair Oaks 95 Camp Ford Prison 510 Carved his own Headboard... 42 Confederate Money 319 Capture of Walker's Rangers 148 Capture of Fort Hindman 150 Charge of the Star Brigade 362 Cahawba Prison 252 Corporal Tanner's Hard Luck 316 ■Completeh' Unnerved 46 Drawing Lots for Death 86 IDeath of Captain Glenn 380 Destruction of the Albemarle 429 Eighty-six Battles 53 Foraging 332 Feeding an Arm}' 99 First and Last Sight of a Silk Banner 166 ■Flanking Atlanta 408 First Battle of Bull Run 21 Fall of General Morgan 592 Forrest's Memphis Raid 450 CONTENTS. 9 Fun on Picket Post 226 Fishing up Torpedoes 129 First War Meeting at Galena, Illinois 110 Grant and the Pickets 80 General Custer's Farewell Order 65 Guarding Davis at Fortress Monroe 667 General Grant's Words 241 General Grant's Record 612 General Hancock's Humor 133 Gran t Promoted Them 540 Grant's Sentence upon Lieutenant Wickfield 551 General Sumner and his Son at Antietam 563 General Terry Among his Friends 80 General Thomas 330 Grant was Responsible 88 General Pemberton's Death 621 Heroism and Chivalrj' at Fredericksburg 491 Hancock's Charge at Spottsylvania 352 How Grant Saved Lee 340 How it Seems to Kill a Man 318 How McClellan was Loved 503 Historic Masonic Jewels 573 Humors of the Camp 574 History of the Stars and Stripes 620 Hood's Rout at Nashville 153 How Rivers are Bridged for Retreating Armies 564 Hunter's Shenandoah Raid 357 How We Became Veterans 219 How We Yelled 663 Incidents of Generals Lee, Jackson, etc 492 Interesting War Relic 535 Jeff Davis' Capture 665 Just Like Lincoln 51 Johnny Shiloh 108 Kindness not Forgotten 33 Life at Chattanooga During the Siege 127 Logan at Atlanta 378 Libby's Bright Side 170 Logan's Bravery at Kennesaw 323 Life in the Trenches 76 10 CONTENTS. Life on the Monitor 267 Libby Prison's Tunnel 197 Lee's Surrender 64,3 Lee's Surrender 656 Mother Bickerdyke 89 My Escape from the Rebels 143 Mission Ridge 309 Marching Through Georgia 460 Merrimac vs. Monitor 368 More Where that Came From 64 News at the Capitol from Bull Run 31 Narrow Escape of a Traitor 544 Night on the Field of Fredericksburg 118 Nicknames of War Leaders 137 "Old Abe," the Wisconsin War Eagle 493 One Country and One Flag 646 Origin of the Confederate Flag 64 Old War Letters 79 Picket Line Exchanges 64 Pennsylvania Troops First to Arrive at the National Capitol 15 Recollections of an Army Nurse 43^ Relics of Anderson ville 608 Rainbow Bluff. 335 Running Forts Jackson and St. Philip 61 Reminiscences of Field and Prison 273 Recollections of General Custer at Winchester 67 Reminiscences of General Opdycke 324 Release of Prisoners 623 Scenes at Shiloh 54 Sheridan Against Stuart 443 Siege at Petersburg 471 Sexton Brown and General Banks 53 Second Battle of Fort Fisher 467 Shot by a Comrade 79 Sheridan's Fox Hunt 112 Some Gallant Deeds of Brave Men 550 Spring Hill and Franklin 436 Siege of Knoxville 320 Soldiers' Letters 497 Soldier Life 557 CONTENTS. 11 Sixth Massachusetts Passing through Baltimore 19 Sheridan's Noted Ride 401 Shooting- of Longfellow's Son 4-27 Stone River 246 Stonewall's Scabbard 487 The Artillery Duel at Antietam 116 The Blackwater Naval Contest 141 The Battle of Fort Fisher 434 The Battle of Monocacy... 371 The Battle of Resaca 419 The Battle of Sailor's Creek 506 The Charge at Kennesaw 354 The Colonel and the Soldier 389 The Capture of General Marmaduke 425 The Citizen Soldier 515 Three Days at Gett^'sburg 222 The Eighth Iowa at the Capture of Mobile 513 The Episode of Patrick Connolly 164 Thrilling Experience of a Union Scout 40 Torpedo Explosion 81 The First Ironclad Ram 34 The Fort Pillow Massacre 326 The First to Die for the Confederacy 548 Trooper Fee's Ghost 468 The Great Mine Adventure 373 The "Gun Shy" Warrior 553 The Heroic McCook Family 50 The History of the Alabama 489 Torbert in the Valley 391 The Last Night at Fredericksburg 122 The "Plymouth Pilgrims" 181 The 78th Ohio at Bald Hill 381 The Sixth Corps 638 The Storming of Marye's Heights 157 The Sultana Disaster 702 The Tenderfoot 27 The 33rd New York 73 The Verification of a Dream 542 The Vicksburg Daily Citizen What a Battle Is 37 12 CONTENTS. With Custer 260 War Correspondents 415 War's Humorous Side 431 Women in the War 385 With Kershaw at Gettysburg 227 Who Shot Stonewall Jackson 405 Wilson's Raid 670 POETRY. Allatoona ; 36 America's Answer 149 An Answer to the "Blue and the Gray" 367 "All Quiet Along the Potomac To-Night" 240 A Soldier's Grave 142 By the Camp Fire 25 Barbara Frietchie 366 Chickamauga 263 Caliber Fifty-Four 637 Company K 383 Count Zowaski 614 Decoration Day 169 Driving Home the Cows 486 Fell for His Country 191 General Ulysses S. Grant 433 General Logan 184 Just Before the Battle, Mother 187 Kearney 591 Lookout Mountain 133 March to the Battle Field 70 "M. D." , 645 My Father's Unknown Grave 570 Morris Island Memories 474 Mending the Old Flag 66 Mustered Out 630 Our Braves 160 Old Marster Fo' De War 525 Our Soldiers' Graves 337 Promoted 541 Ready 636 CONTENTS. 13 Soldier's Death-Bed Hymn 136 The Advance Guard 245 Thomas at Chickamauga 615 The Blue and the Gray 70 The Blue, the Gray and Grant 85 The Battle Flags 104 The Crutch in the Corner 338 The Countersign was "Mary" 470 The Drummer Boy of Mission Ridge 617 The Eighth Kansas 546 The 15th Veteran Corps 94 To My Wife 377 The Old Canteen 504 The Prisoner's Lament 361 The Retreat 512 The Sentry's Challenge 414 The Soldier's Last Word 449 The Sleeping Gray 642 Ulric Dahlgren 229 CAMP AND FIEkD, . . .SKETCHED BY. ii THE BOYS" WHO MARCHED, FOUGHT AND PUT DOWN THE REBELLION. PENNSYLVANIA TROOPS FIRST TO ARRIVE AT THE NATIONAL CAPITAL. THE FIRST BLOOD SHED NORTH OF FORT SUMTER. BY WILLIAM F. Wl'KAY, 25th PA. REGIMENT. (WO years previous to the bombardment of Fort Sumter the military spirit of Lewistown, Pa., was revived by the formation of a company of light infantry. The ranks were filled by young men froin the best families in the community. On the morning of the sixteenth day of April, 1861, Governor Curtin called upon our com- pany for service. The summons was obeyed promptly. Our total number was fifty-one men, including officers. Captain Selheimer increased this number to one hundred and four men in the space of two hours. We took our departure that night for Harrisburg, and were the first company to arrive there. We were speedily joined by four other companies of the Pennsylvania National Guards, the Washington Artillery and National Light Infan- try, of Pottsville, the Ringgold Artillery, of Reading, and the Allen Infantry, of Allentown. Our men were only partly armed, and what few muskets we had were turned into the State Arsenal, and for some unaccountable reason we were loaded on the cars, entirely unarmed, to pass through the then disloyal city of Baltimore. We were accompanied by a detach- ment of forty regulars, whose destination was Fort McHenry, Baltimore. The city of Baltimore was under the control of the Seces- sionists and an infuriated mob, frenzied with passion and liquor, who awaited our coming. As we disembarked from the 16 CAMP AND FIELD. cars we were surrounded by a hooting, yelling crowd, who lav- ished the most opprobrious epithets upon us. Our line of march was formed with the "Logan" Guards on the right, preceded by a part of the regulars, who accompanied us a part of the way. A line of Marshal Kane's police was on each side of us. The streets and sidewalks were jammed with people, and at every cross street we were met by fresh masses, who hurled bricks and paving stones at us. The line of the police was nearly broken at several points. Doorways and windows were filled and many secession flags met our gaze. Indeed, the only national flag that could be seen was at Fort McHenry. Had the rioters organized as they did two days later, when the 6th Mass. Regt. fought their way through this city, they would have annihilated our command. A colored servant of the Pottsville companies was the first man on our side to shed his blood, north of Fort Sumter. He was knocked down by a paving stone and his head badly cut. We were put into freight cars at the Washington depot, and it was then that the mob seemed more fero.cious than ever. Some mounted the decks of the cars, and by jumping on them at- tempted to break them through. A continual stream of mis- siles was flying through the openings of the cars; they attempted to tear up the track and several times uncoupled the engine from our train. Some of our boys were hard to restrain under all these insults and abuse, and two of them jumped out and offered to fight any two men in the crowd. This seemed to please them some- what and they said that we might go on, but that they would give the " Massachusetts Yankees h 1." After many delays, we were once more on the move, and at 7 p. m. arrived in Washington. We were silently marched to the Capitol Build- ing, where we were reviewed by Major, afterwards General McDowell. We had our headquarters in the hall of the House of Representatives. That night was our first experience in the art of eating wormy pork and hard-tack. One of our mem- bers, who was fully six feet in height, actually shed tears because he had no sugar on his bread. This young man was afterwards a captain in the gallant 96th Pa. Vols., but he is called " Sugar Jim " to this day. Early on the following morning our first sergeant reported as ready for duty to Adjutant-General Mansfield, and he told CAMP AND FIT%LD. 17 Matthews that we were "the first company reported for duty in the war." The 6th Regt. of Mass. Vols, having fought their way through the blockade at Baltimore made us feel still more valiant, but for eleven days after we were entirely cut off from the North, until General Butler opened a new route by way of Annapolis. The Massachusetts soldiers were quickly followed by regiments from New York, New Jersey, and Rhode Island. In a few days we received orders to embark for Fort Wash- ington, on the Potomac, opposite Mount Vernon. As we passed Alexandria, our men kept concealed and our steamer hugged the opposite shore, for the rebels had a battery of field guns on the wharf, and had they known there were Union troops on that steamer they would probably have sent us to the bottom of the river. Major Haskin, a one-armed veteran of the Mexican war, was in command of Fort Washington, and under him we speedily acquired the steadiness and accuracy of regular soldiers. Squad and company drills, mounting heavy guns in the fort and water battery, and making abatis on the land side, left us little time to do anything else. When the news of our disastrous defeat at Manassas reached us our time had expired and we voluntarily remained two weeks longer. We were then forwarded to Harrisburg, where we were mus- tered from service. On the 22d of July, 18G1, we received the thanks of Congress, the following resolution having been passed: — Itexolved, That tlie thanks of this House are due and are hereby tendered to the five hundred and tliirty soldiers from Pennsylvania, who passed through the mob at Baltimore and reached Washington on the eighteenth day of April, 1861, for the defense of the National Capital. This company afterwards furnished no less than thirty-three commissioned officers in different organizations, and we chal- lenge any company in either army to make a better showing of what the citizen soldier can do. Selheimer and Hu lings became colonels. Our first sergeants, Matthews, Irwin, and William G. Mitchell, late of General Hancock's staff, were brigadiers, another be- came a major and the rest were commissioned captains and lieutenants. The other four companies also made a brilliant record in the war. 18 CAMP AND FIELD, DEFEAT. General Scott could not understand how a "hero of one hun- dred battles" could be beaten, and he only believed when the retreating, panic-stricken army sounded its approach. When the veteran was convinced, he gave an order to suppress all news of the disaster which might be offered for telegraphing to the country. Armed with tliis document I drove to the American telegraph office and notified its manager. The tables were piled with specials from the field, describing in thrilling language the scenes and events of the day. All Intimations of disaster were ruthlessly cut from the specials and only the rose coloring was permitted to be telegraphed. Thus it was that whilst the gloom of the darkest hour in the Repub- lic's history hung like a pall over Washington, throughout the North bells were ringing out rejoicings over the glad tidings of victory. Telegrams were sent to General McClellan, at Beverly, West Virginia, informing him of a "repulse" to Mc- Dowell, and to Generals Banks and Dix — both of whom were in Baltimore — instructing them to keep their men under arms. No official telegrams for aid was sent at this time, but Col. Thomas A, Scott, with a keen perception of the situation and foreseeing the necessity of the morrow, sent a telegram to Governor Curtin, at Harrisburg, which was so characteristic of the man, that I give its full text: — Washington, July 21, 1861. Hon. a. G. Cuktin, Ilarrhhurcj, Pa. Get your regiments at Harrisburg, Easton, and other points ready for immedi- ate shipment. Lose no time preparing. Make things move to the utmost. Thomas A. Scott. This dispatch anticipated by many hours any official action looking towards a call for "more troops." Mr. Lincoln lingered around the War Department until after two o'clock in the morning, when he retired to the White House, leaving Mr. Scott on guard — an active, watchful sentinel of the move- ments of the night. Had the country been consulted, it could not have selected from its patriotic sons an abler, truer, wiser, braver guardian than the noble man Mr. Lincoln left to care for the nation's interests in the crisis which had come upon it. 6tl| Mass. Regt. Passing througlj Baltiiijore. A FURIOUS MOB BARRICADES THE STREETS.— MARSHAL KABE HELPLESS, ■N answer to the President's call for troops Governor Andrew, of Massachu- setts, on the 15th of April, 18G1, ordered the 6th Mass. Regt. to mus- ter forthwith on " Boston Com- mon." On the night of April 18, they had reached Philadel- phia, Pa. , and had put up at the Girard House, then new and unoccupied. The regiment was here met by Gen. P. S. Davis, an agent of Massachusetts, who informed Colonel Jones, of the 6th, that there would be a stormy time when the reg- iment reached Baltimore, and added he could take no respon- sibility in directing his action. Colonel Jones responded, "My orders are to reach Washington at the earliest moment possible and I shall go on." It was about 1 A. M. the 19th, and he at once aroused his regiment and arranged with the officers of the railroad for a " pilot en- gine " to go in advance of his train, so that they arrived safe- ly at Baltimore about 10 a. m., several hours in advance of their expected arrival. Twenty rounds of ball cartridges had been distributed en 7'oute, so that all the muskets were loaded and primed. As the train reached the city, the en- gine was unshackled and horses were at once hitched to the cars, as was usual, to draw them across the city. The rail- road officials were making ner- vous haste, fearing what might happen, but nothing like an at- tack was made until the sev- enth car had started. Major Watson had been stationed at the rear of the train when leav- ing Philadelphia, the regiment having taken the cars in regu- lar order as in line, but when they were transferred at Havre- de-Grace the cars were attach- ed differently, so that the order as in line was now broken. 20 CAMP AND FIELD. When the car upon which Major Watson was stationed started, he took it for granted that all the regiment was on its way across the city. His car was attacked by clubs, paving stones, and other mis- siles, but no defense was made until three men had been wounded (the last by a pistol shot), when the company was permitted to fire at will. As it crossed the city, this car was three times derailed. Upon reaching the other depot. Su- perintendent Smith, of the Bal- timore and Ohio Railroad, in- formed Colonel Jones that the road was so obstructed that the four remaining companies could not be brought over. There were two hundred and twenty men in these four com- panies (C, I, L, and D) and they were surrounded by a mob of thousands, who filled the air with yells, oaths, taunts, mis- siles, and shots. Capt. A. S. Follansbee, finding the railroad and streets obstructed, at once assumed command and in the order of the companies as stated commenced his march across the city. A formidable barricade on Pratt street was scaled; and a point where the mob had hoped to annihi- late the detachment was thus passed. Cheers for Davis and for the South, and taunts of ''you can't fight," "dig your graves," "nigger stealers," and "Yankee scabs," filled the air. Pistol and gunshots came from windows, roofs, and streets, while everything which could be picked up was hurled upon the devoted column. It was early on the march evident, that nothing but blood would satisfy the ruffians, and though in a measure they left the ad- vance clear, yet the crowd hung upon the rear of the col- umn, a dense and infuriated mob. After a few of the men had been wounded, Captain Follansbee gave the boys per- mission to defend themselves, and from that time until the detachment reached the Wash- ington depot there was a con- stant fusillade of musketry. As any of the Gth Mass. were wounded they were borne along by comrades. As they reached the Washington depot they found an immense crowd brandishing revolvers, knives, clubs, and other weapons; and the police powerless or disin- clined to control them. Guns and revolvers were being dis- charged on both sides, and the depot was soon perforated like a pepper box. After consider- able delay the train started, fol- lowed by an enraged crowd, who piled every conceivable obstruction on the track. Af- ter frequent stops for repairing breaks the conductor reported CAMP AND FIELD; 21 he could go no farther, and that the regiment must march the rest of the way. Colonel Jones told him, he held through tickets to Washington, and if he could not run the train through, he had men who could fill every position on the train and could and would put the train through. The train was again started, and at Jackson Bridge, the mob gave up the chase. After a long delay at the Belay House, the train reached Washington late in the afternoon, and the boys were received by Major (after- ward General) McDowell, and were quartered that night in the United States Senate cham- ber. The loss of the regiment in passing through Baltimore was four killed, and thirty-six wounded. First Battle -f Hull Run. JULY 21, 1861. A "Baptism of Fire" and a Desperate Struggle. How Jackson got the Title of " Stonewall." BY MAJOR WILLIAM M. ROBBINS, FOURTH ALABAMA REGIMENT. 'N the afternoon of July 18, 1861, the army of Gen. Joe Johnston, 10,000 strong, which had been in front of ■^^^-^ General Patterson near Winchester, Va., was hastily put in motion and marched off southeastwardly, going we knew not whither. Heat, dust, and night-fall made the rapid march disagreeable enough, but it was pushed without check until we reached the Shenandoah. This river — about waist deep — was waded at dawn of the nineteenth amidst songs, jokes, and general hilarity. The Blue Ridge was passed at Ashby's Gap, and at evening of the same day the head of the column arrived at Piedmont station on the Manassas Gap railroad, from whence Johnston's forces were forwarded in detachments by rail as fast as transportation could be furnished. 22 CAMP AND FIELD. So much has been said about Johnston's troops appearing on the field, in the nick of time, and after the battle had been long raging, that an impression extensively prevails that none of them were there at the opening of the fight. This a great mis- take. Three brigades^Jackson's, Bartow's, and (nearly all of) Bee's — were at hand when the battle opened and bore an im- portant part in it all day. The 4th Alabama and other regi- ments of Bee's brigade reached the Junction at noon of the twentieth, and were among the very earliest in the conflict the next day. It was only a comparatively minor number of Johnston's men under Kirby Smith and Elrey that leaped from the train when the battle was in progress, and, hastening down the War- renton pike, came in so luckily on the right rear of the Federals and caused the panic which gave the victory to the Confederates. The 4th Alabama were busy with breakfast not far from the Junction, when the boom of a gun in the direction of the railroad bridge, over Bull Run, drew our eyes that way,' and we saw for the first time the little sphere of white vapor produced by the bursting of a shell. Our regiment, with others of Bee's brigade, was at once moved at double-quick towards the Con- federate left, but we had scarcely reached the designated point when we were again ordered to go at a rapid run two miles still further up the stream, to meet the Federals at Sudley's Ford. All depended on presenting a quick front to this unexpected movement. We went across the fields at our highest speed and soon reached the plateau of the Henry House, around which the battle was afterward mainly fought. Bee knew that his brigade alone could not hold the position, and saw that the enemy would secure it, unless checked and delayed by some means, before an adequate force of Confederates could get there to oppose them. To gain the needed time it was neces- sary to risk the sacrifice of the two and a half regiments then with him by a bold movement still further to the front. So he ordered the 4th Alabama, with the 2d and 11th Mississippi, to move half a mile further to the next bridge, to engage the enemy and delay them as long as possible. Down the slope we rushed, panting and breathless, but still eager, because ignorant of the desperate crisis which doomed us to probable destruction, to save the whole army. As we passed CAMP AND FIELD. 23 the little rivulet below the Stone House, the artillery duel began, and shells of friend and foe shrieked wildly above our heads. Mounting the hill and entering the copse of timber north of the Stone House, we began to hear a sharp crackling of musketry ahead of us — a collision between the Federals and Wheat's "Louisiana Tigers," wearing the Zouave uniform. A little further up the hill and beyond the timber, we struck the enemy and no mistake. Their long advancing line, with the " Stars and Stripes" (which made some of us feel sorry), began to peer over the crest, eighty yards in our front, and opened a terrific fire, but which went mostly over us. On re- ceiving the enemy's fire we lay down and waited until we could see their bodies to the waist, when we gave them a volley which was effective and the Federals fell back behind the crest. After some interval they advanced another and longer line; but the result was the same as before, only they held on longer this time and their fire hurt us badly. A third time they came on in a line which extended far beyond our flanks, and now the conflict became bloody and terrible. Their balls came not only from the front but from right and left oblique, cut- ting down our colonel (Egbert Jones) and many a familiar form so recently full of hope and gayety. Then War began to show us his wrinkled front. It seemed our safest course to hug the ground and pepper away at them; and so from sheer des- peration, as much as anything, we kept at it, until, to our great joy, the enemy fell back once more behind the crest. General Bee, seeing that we would be overwhelmed at the next on- slaught, gave us the order to retire. Nearly one-third of the 4th Alabama had gone down in the effort and were left on the ground, including the colonel, mortally wounded. The 7th and 8th Georgia, of Bartow's brigade, also came to our ad- vanced position but far to our right during the contest. They had a bloody collision with another column of the Federals, and contributed materially to the delay of the Federal advance. As we retired by the same route along which we had come, we saw a regiment in column by companies, marching down the rivulet toward us. Their flag was furled on the staff and so was ours. They thought we were Federals, but were not sure. As for ourselves we felt certain no enemy had got so far in our rear; their uniforms also resembled that of the 6th North Carolina, belonging to our brigade, and we naturally took them 24 CAMP AND FIELD. for that regiment coming to our aid. Thus encouraged we halted, faced about and re-formed our line, intending with this re-enforcement to take another tilt with the enemy. The regi- ment referred to also halted and deployed into line of battle at right angles to ours and less than one hundred yards from our flank. Their colonel signaled us with his handkerchief, for the purpose of learning who we were, as it afterward appeared. We never dreamed that that was his purpose, thinking of course he knew us. All this took place in a few moments. Having rearranged our line our flag was unfurled showing the " Stars and Bars!" Instantly a blaze of fire flashed along the line of our supposed friends (a New York regiment it really was), and an enfilading hailstorm of bullets tore through the -itli Ala- bama, killing many and disabling more. Amongst those who fell were Lieutenant-Colonel Law and Major Scott, leaving our regiment without a field officer. What do you suppose we did? We didn't stay there; it is frank to say that we got back to the main Confederate line in the shortest time possible. Having arrived there, the 4th Alabama fell in on the right of the line and fought to the end of that terrible day. The position of our regiment being now on the right of the Confederate line, the plateau of the Henry House, — and the leading design of the Federals during the entire day being to turn the Confederate left, the heaviest fighting gradually veered toward that flank. The 6th North Carolina, separated from the brigade in the maneuvers of the day, had rushed in single- handed and attempted to check it, but had been smitten by overwhelming power, and their gallant Colonel Fisher and many of his men were no more. Jackson, with his brigade, was struggling desperately, to arrest the Federal columns; but immovable as Jackson and his men stood, the surging tides of the enemy were beating upon him with such a mighty force that it seemed as if he must give way. At one time the battle had entirely lulled on the right. Our brigadier. Gen. Barnard E. Bee, at this moment came galloping to the 4th Alabama, and said: " My brigade is scattered over the field and you are all of it I can find. Men, can you make a charge of bayonets?" '' Yes, General," was the prompt response, "we will go wherever you lead and do whatever you say." Pointing toward where Jackson and his brigade were desperately battling. Bee said: " Over yonder stands Jackson, like a stone wall! Let us go to CAMP AND FIELD. 25 his assistance." Saying that, Bee dismounted and led the 4th Alabama to Jackson's position. Other re-enforcements coming up a vigorous charge was made pressing the Federals back. In this charge Bee fell mortally wounded. Bartow fell nearly at the same time within a stone's throw of the same spot. Before the Federals recovered from the impression made by this partial repulse they saw Kirby Smith's men advancing down the Warrenton pike upon their right rear (as before stated), and his unexpected appearance in that quarter struck them with an overpowering panic and caused their precipitate retreat from the field. The battle ended so suddenly that the Confederates could neither understand nor scarcely believe it. By thk CA]vrp=KiRB. BY rv4RS. S. D. HOBART. |E meet in joy and gladness Beside the cainp-fire's light, ''And kindly greetings temper The chilling winter's night. Amid the song and laughter, The comfort, warmth, and glow, Our hearts recall the pictures , Of camp-fires long ago. " Come ! " rang from Freedom's watch- towers. And, answering to the call, You went, our manliest, bravest. Our light, our joy, our all, While mothers to their bosoms Their stripling first-born pressed, And whispered through their sobbing, " Dear land, we give our best ! " Beneath the Southern star-beams, By camp-fire blazing bright, You told the tales of skirmish. Of pickets, march, and fight. The songs that cheered the moments Ring down the aisles of time ; No songs so thrill the soldier As their wild, pulsing rhyme. " Glory, Hallelujah ! " Pealed through the startled trees ; " We'll rally 'round the flag, boys," Came floating on the breeze. With " Marching on to Richmond I The canvas walls resound, And tlie echoes chorus " Tenting To-night on the old camp-ground." " We're coming. Father Abraham I " Rings to the hills away. " Our flag shall float, forever ! " " Our own brave boys are they ! " " When this cruel war is over ■ No longer will we roam." " Tramp, tramp, the boys are march- ing ! " And the song of " The girls at home ! " 26 CAMP AND FIELD. Soon came the rude awak'ning ; Startled, but undismayed, You heard through widening circles The furious fusillade. O'er wounded, dead, and dying, Amid the cannons' roar, Unwavering and unswerving. Fair Freedom's flag you boi'e. Oh ! valiant, true, and steadfast, Through tempest, heat, and cold, Our country crowned you heroes. In those grand brave days of old." Though homesick, heartsick, weary, Daring the battery's breath. Your brave hearts never faltered While face to face with death. Then back from field and prison, A band of crippled men, The wreck of battle-surges. We welcomed you again. We saw your thin ranks falter, And wails of anguish sore Went up from home and hearthstone, For those who came no more. Still through the rolling ages Shall brightly glow their fame ; Still on our country's annals Their deeds of valor flame. And bands of patriot children. In spring-time's sunny hours. Shall rev'rent place above them Fair wreaths of spotless flowers. e^S^- -^^Sss A PRESENTIMENT DF HEATH. C. M. BABBITT, SPRINGFIELD, MASS. fWAS a member of Company E of the 37th Mass. Vols., and had a bunk mate by the name of James Perkins, who enlisted from the same town with myself (South Adams), who had a presentiment that he should be killed in the next battle our regiment was engaged in. After the battle of Chancellorsville we tried to argue him out of the idea, but he continued to assert that he knew he should be killed. On the night of July 1, and a portion of the day following, we were compelled to make a forced march of upwards of forty miles to reach Gettysburg for the action which occurred there. During the march my comrade James was so overcome with fatigue that he had to fall out of the ranks, and did not reach the battle field until a few minutes be- fore the rebels opened their terrible fire on the 3d. Our regiment was ordered to re-enforce a point in the lines at double quick, and just as we were get- ting under way, James turned to me and said, " Charley, this is pretty tough, to nearly march your life out to get here to be killed." The words were scarcely spoken when a piece of shell struck him just over the right ear and passed through his head, coming out above the left eye, killing him in- stantly. I fell over his body as he was breathing his last. The next morning, with my comrades Baldwin and Pettitt, I helped to put him in a rude grave and mark a board with his name, company, and regiment, which afterwards led to his remains being placed in the National cemetery. THE "TENDERFOOT.' THE PAINFUL PROCESS WHICH TRANSFORMED THE RECRUIT INTO THE SOLDIER. BY W. F. HINMAN, 65th OHIO. *^-^S >N war time the raw soldier was known to the veteran as a "tenderfoot," bearing to him the samerelation that a fresh i^Al^ arrival from " the States " did to the seasoned miner in the early days on the Pacific slope. The term "tenderfoot " was not out of place when applied to a recruit, as was clearly shown be- fore the end of his first day's march. There were few, indeed, who did not experience the wild, maddening pain from blisters upon the feet before the latter became toughened to macadamized turn- pikes and the scraping of the fearfully and wonderfully made armv shoe — known in the soldier's parlance of the time as the " ofunboat." A man was of but little account as a factor in war until he could march without becoming crippled. This, of course, refers particularly to infantry, which always forms the great body of an army, and must of necessity do most of the heav\' fighting ; and in long campaigns must move like the cattle which accompanied them to supply them with fresh beef, "on the hoof." Not till soldier^ are able to march twenty, thirty or even forty miles in a day, when necessity requires, and be able to fight when they get there, can they reach the full measure of usefulness. The distances mentioned for a day's march do not seem on paper a tenth as long as they do to a man tramping beneath a scorching sun, burdened with all the "traps " that make up a soldier's outfit. Many a man, wholly unincumbered, may walk fortv miles within t\vent\^-four hours without serious discomfort, but load him down with a musket, cartridge-box and accouter- ments, sixty or eight\^ rounds of ball cartridges, a bulging haver- sack containing all that he is to eat for three days, a canteen of 28 CAMP AND FIELD. water, blanket, overcoat and knapsack, and before the march is half over he will be as much of a "used up man" as "Little Van" was declared to be in the old political campaign song of 184-0. Words seem to have lost their meaning when one who has ex- perienced them attempts to describe the utter exhaustion of every muscle and fibre and tendon of limb and body; the keen smarting where belts and straps have ground the dust into the sweating flesh and shoes have worn the skin from tender feet ; the aching of shoulders and back and legs that have borne the heavy burdens along the weary miles. During the late war the most serious mistake made at the out- set by the "tenderfoot" was that he greatly overestimated his carrying ability — his "tonnage," as a sailorwould say. Perhaps this was due, in a great measure, to the faulty ideas of himself and his friends as to what it was necessary for him to take to the field. When a boy left his home to "go for a soldier," the hearts of mother and sister palpitated with a loving desire to fit him out with everything possible in the way of home comforts. The average 3'oung patriot started for the war with a wheel-barrow load of clothing, a bed-quilt or two, books, photograph albums, toilet articles and gimcracks of ever^^ sort. Neither he nor the good home-folks had the slightest conception of the capacity of a knapsack, nor did the\^ for a moment imagine that before the close of his first day upon the road every pound he carried would seem a hundred. The shrinkage of the knapsack was the beginning of the process that gradual!}' transformed the recruit into the soldier. A novice ready for the march never failed to provoke a volle\' of good-na- tured gibes and jeers from the veteran soldiers, who had graduated from the school of experience. Thev, too, had tried to carry pon- derous knapsacks crammed with the gifts of loving but mis- guided friends. Their shoulders had ached and their blistered feet had smarted. The observing recruit could not fail to note the fact that their knapsacks — if they had any — were lean and shrunken, while half of them had none at all. The veteran learned to dispense \vith every unnecessar}' ounce of weight, and just in the ratio that he did this he increased his efficiency as a soldier. It was of the highest importance to learn, not how great a load a man could carry on his Ijack, but how little he could get along with and be ineasurablv comfortable. But the recruit, raging with enthusiasm and patriotic emotions, never would learn from an3^one else. He thought he could gauge his powers of endurance, and had to find out for himself; how CAMP AND FIELD. 29 mistaken he was. So he responded with alacrity- to note of bugle or tap of drum, ga^-ly shouldered his great load of sixty or sev- enty pounds, and trudged bravely off at the command "March!" Before the end of the first mile was reached he began to learn something. When the bugle sounded for the first five-minutes' rest, after an hour's tramping, he was seriouslv arguing with himself whether it would not be the part of wisdom to jettison part of his cargo. Then, squatting in a fence corner, he would open his knapsack and take an inventorv of its contents to see if there was anything that he could spare. He was loth to give up those keepsakes and mementoes of affection, for he had not yet passed out of the sentimental stage into the practical. Quite Hkely he would come to the conclusion at this inspection that there w^as nothing that he could throw awa}^ without doing too great outrage to his tender sensibilities. Then, too, the few minutes of rest had partly restored him to his normal condition. He was fain to believe that he would vervsoon get used to it and then all would be well. Perhaps he was urged to this conclusion by the irritating taunts of the old soldiers, whose personal bag- gage consisted only of their blankets rolled up like big sausages with the ends tied together, and thrown over their shoulders. He would show them he could carry his load and travel as fast and as far as they could. So he would buckle up his knapsack and "sling" it cheerfully at the signal to "fall in." The second heat was like the first, onh' a good deal more so. The weight of knapsack and blanket and haversack and musket and cartridge box, and the aches and smarts, seemed to increase by the rule of geometrical progression. How he longed to drop into a fence-corner again before the column was half way to the next halting place! But his grit—" sand," the boys used to call it— wouldn't per- mit him to straggle, at least not yet. So he plodded on, sweating and straining and limping until the bugle sounded— and how unspeakably glad he was to hear it. Now the time had come when sentiment must go to the rear. Tearing open his knapsack, he flung away articles that loving hands had provided— not with- out a pang, but all the same, they had to go. Some more dear to his heart than the rest, he still clung to ; but these would follow at the end of the next hour. If I should live to the span of A/Tethuselah I would retain a vivid memory of the first march of the regiment which bore m v name upon one of its compan\^ rolls. We all had prodigious knapsacks. I didn't think anybody in the regiment had a bigger one than I did, 30 CAMP AND FIELD. though I was but a bo\', rather punj than robust, who had laid aside books at college to go to war. The first few miles we tramped, looking like so many humped camels. Then began the inevitable "physicking" of the knapsacks, and during the rest of that da}' and all of the next the road was strewn with the debris. Two six-mule wagon loads might have been gathered, of notions that had been flung aside by a thousand suffering " tenderfeet." It was not a hard march, either — that is, it would not have been so considered two years later, when we had become "seasoned." It was only fort\' miles, and we took three days for it, but it pro- duced a more abundant crop of pains and aches and blisters than any succeeding tramp that fell to our lot, and we had our full share. It was in Kentucky, in the month of January. Toward the close of the first day, two or three inches of snow fell. Patriot- ism was at a low ebb as we scraped away the snow, pitched tents, made fires and cooked supper. I think among those unfor- tunate men whose "turn" it was to go on picket duty that night — no fires were allowed on the outposts — there was a feeling that thev didn't care a continental whether the Union was saved or not. We had been lying for a fortnight at Louisville, tramping around in mud ankle deep, and shivering in the raw Avintry air. Our tents then were the "Sibley" — conical in shape, supported by a long center-pole reaching to the apex, its foot resting upon a three-legged iron tripod. One of these tents was almost large enough tor a menagerie to show in. Twenty inen could live and move and have their being in it. These tents were exceed- ingly cumbersome, and when the enormous baggage trains wdiich trailed for miles behind a division during the first year of the war were reduced, the Sibley had to "go." While our teeth were chattering at Louisville, nearl}' ever}' "mess" had chipped in and bought a sheet-iron stove for the tent it occupied. These stoves were very comforting in cold weather while we lay in camp, but when it came to active cam- paigning thev soon disappeared. They were cylindrical in form, and about sixteen inches in diameter. We had a chap in our regi- ment who actually carried one of them on his back, strapped on the top of his knapsack, two or three hundred miles. It gave to the man an exceedingly grotesque appearance, and he was the butt of endless jests and practical jokes. He was a pep- pery German, and frequently lost his temper under the raillery of his comrades; but he stuck to his stove until warm weather came. PS gT THE GfPITHL FtOPI BDLL Ml How Mr. Lincoln and his Cabinet Received the Defeat. NE of the most illustrious groups brought together (luring the war with the South, was one which gathered in the War Department at Washington on the beautiful Sunday which witnessed the tragedy at Bull Run. The group was composed President Lincoln, William H. Seward, Simon Cameron, Salmon P. Chase, Gideon Welles, and Edwin Bates of the Cabinet; Colonels Townsend, Van Rensselaer, Hamilton, and Wright of General Scott's staff; General Mansfield commanding the defenses at Washington, and Col. Thomas A. Scott, of Pennsylvania. With maps of the field before them they watched the conflict of arms as it progressed. The military telegraph, which had not yet reached the efficiency which afterward characterized it, extended only to Fairfax Court House, from which point General McDowell kept the authorities advised of his movements. Hour after hour the couriers reported our gallant troops steadily forcing the enemy back. A dispatch had been received from General Patterson the evening before, announcing that Johnston had eluded him, but the possibility of Johnston's forming a junction with Beaure- gard that day was not thought possible. The day passed quietly, all looking forward with absolute confidence to Mc- Dowell's success. Up to half past three o'clock in the afternoon, advices from McDowell were frequent, the dispatch at that hour indicating that he was pressing Beauregard back to the Junction. From then until the shades of evening, an ominous silence settled on the telegraph. Conversation took a speculative turn on the cause of the sudden cessation of information from the field, but 32 CAMP AND FIELD. the general opinion was that McDowell, flushed with victory, was too busily engaged in securing its fruits to write dis- patches. As time wore on, speculation gave way to impatience, until the throbbing instrument broke the long silence saying, "Our army is retreating." There was no consternation, and but a feeble ripple of excitement. Whatever may have been the feelings and thoughts of these gentlemen they kept them closely veiled. Mr. Seward smoked on, but the days of his prophecy were ended. Col. Thomas A. Scott, turning to General Mansfield, said, "General, it would be well to man your fortifications and stay this retreat," and then left the department with the purpose of holding a consultation with General Scott. ..->$=3-i< ;->$^|^^- )^e:$<^ ARMY TEAMSTKRS. RMY teamsters were never apiwe- ciated at their true value by sol- diers in the field, for it vfus the general opinion that " any fool can drive mules." Those who tried the experiment found the team- ster's office not a sinecure. The suc- cessful handling of six stubborn, pugnacious brutes required a degree of patience, skill, and will power only developed by long experience. When the roads were dry and even, wagon driving was a pastime, but when the trains reached the mountain passes, or the roads became seas of mud, then the task was no joke. Mud, three feet deep, as tenacious as stiff clay could make it, rendered the movement of wagons and artillery a difficult opera- tion. The wheels were solid disks of mud, and the labor for both men and animals was multiplied four-fold. Then the genius of the teamster was manifested. With an inexhaustible vocabulary of oaths at command, and armed with a formidable snake whip, both were used with startling and telling effect. The air, blue with shocking profanity, and the huge whip whistling cruelly on the backs of the quivering brutes, gave them new strength, and the mired vehicle soon emerged from its muddy bed. It was a leading article of faith among team- sters that mules could only be driven by constant cursing, and they lived up to that belief with rare constancy. An attempt to drive a team of mules with- out indulgence in profanity invariably proved a failure, because the animals had become so accustomed to that method of persuasion that they would not move without it. Teamsters, as a class, were brave and untiring in their peculiar sphere of duty, but they got very little credit from the rank and file. CAMP AND FIKLD. 33 being generally looked upon as men who were unwilling to fight. They could fight, however, for the teamsters frequently saved their trains from capt- ure by stubborn resistance when at- tacked. Every wagon carried a loaded musket and the weapons were often used with deadly effect. Many a brave mule driver died like a hero in defending the property in- trusted to his charge, though there was seldom any record of such brav- ery. To see an ordnance train gallop upon a battle field was au exhilarating sight, for the teamsters were then in their glory. Coming up on a trot the wagons wheeled into line as cleverly as if the men were moving field pieces into position, and the mules strained every muscle and obeyed every com- mand with remarkable docility. KINDNESS NOT FORGOTTEN. Maj. Burke and the Qth Mass. Regt, ^^^URING the war Major Burke, of || || New Orleans, was in command •^^ of a detachment that captui-ed a part of the 6th Mass. Regt. He treated the prisoners as kindly as cir- cumstances would permit, and parted from them with expressions of courtesy and regret. Years passed and he heard not a word from any of them. But at the time of the great flood, when South- ern Louisiana lay prostrate and helpless under the sweep of turbulent waters. Major Burke, as chairman of the relief committee, received a dispatch from Boston, authorizing him to draw at sight for $10,000, This was one of the earliest responses to the pitiful ci'y that had gone up from a stricken community for help, and it touched and encouraged the major and his associates. Two hours later came another dispatch from Boston " draw for another .f 10,000," and in a few hours came a third dispatch donating another ifl0,000. With these dispatches came thfe state- ment : " The 6th Mass. remembers the kindness of Major Burke." AN ANECDOTE OF "JEB" STUART. By General Longstreet. fEB STUART was a very daring fellow, and one of the best cavalry- men America ever produced. At the second Manassas, soon after we heard of the advance of McDowell and Porter, Stuart came in and made a report to General Lee. When he had done so, General Lee said he had no orders at that moment, but he re- quested Stuart to wait a while. There- upon Stuart turned round in his tracks, lay down on the ground, put a stone under his head, and instantly fell asleep. General Lee rode away, and in an hour returned. Stuart was still sleeping. Lee asked for him, and Stuart sprang to his feet and said, " Here I am, General." General Lee replied, " I want you to send a message to your troops over on the left to send a few more cavalry over to the right." "I would better go myself," said Stuart, and with that he swung himself into the saddle and rode off at a rapid gallop, singing as loudly as he could, " Jine the cavalry." THE FIRST IRON-CLAD RAM. AN ATTEMPTTO RAISETHE BLOCKADE AT NEW ORLEANS. BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER IN ARMS. BIT J. R. i:o6i:.i:sTo»r. N '61, among the earliest orders I received from the Confederate government, was to report for duty A on board the steamer McRae, then fitting out for ^ sea at New Orleans. The craft in question was perhaps of a hundred tons burthen. Above the tv^ water line and about a foot below, it was encased with railroad iron placed fore and aft, longitudi- ^^^^^^** nally . Private persons had constructed this ram and when completed she became the property of the Confederate government; the battle of Bull Run taking place at about that time, she was named the Manassas. She did not carry battery, but depended wholly upon her ramming powers. It is worthy of consideration that in this hastily constructed ram there was a return to the method of Salamis and Actium; that, too, against artillery compared with which the cannon that thundered at Trafalgar were mere popguns, with the dif- ference that steam was substituted for oars and iron armor for the open deck. A single vessel like the Manassas, unarmed as she was, might easily have destroyed both the Greek and Per- sian fleets at Salamis and have turned the tide of battle at Trafalgar, Commodore Hollins having taken command of our little naval force at New Orleans, he determined to make an effort to raise the blockade of the river. By this time the Sum- ter had got to sea, and the machinery of the McRae proving defective, her orders to run the blockade were countermanded and she was permanently attached to Commodore Hollins's com- mand. The McRae was a propeller, mounting six guns, and in CAMP AND FIELD, 35 addition to her, Commodore Hollins's squadron consisted of a side-wheel steamer, commanded by Captain Fry, a couple of tugboats, mounting a gun apiece, and the ram Manassas. The Federal blockading squadron lay at anchor in the river. It consisted of the steam corvette Richmond, the sail corvette Preble, and one other vessel whose name I have forgotten. Commander Hollins selected a dark night for the execution of his plan, which was as follows: To ram the Richmond with the Manassas and simultaneously to set adrift fire-ships in the river, above the enemy. Lieutenant Warley, executive officer of the McRae, was selected to command the Manassas. War- ley was known as a dashing, intrepid officer, whose readiness to obey an order would be equal to any danger attending its ex- ecution. By a singular coincidence he had served on board the Richmond, so that it was against his recent messmates and personal friends that he was about to act. With officers of the regular service it was civil war and no doubt of it. It was messmate against messmate; brother-in-arms against brother- in-arms; and it was only a stern sense of duty that could, under such circumstances, have made American officers take either side. For fire-ships two coal barges were loaded with combustible material and taken in tow by the tugs. On the night of the 12th of October we got under way and steamed down towards the enemy; the Manassas in the advance, fol- lowed by the tugs towing the fire-ships; the McRae and Fry's boat brought up the rear. There is nothing more trying to the nerves than to approach danger in the dark, a fact that I fully appreciated, while, with- out a word being spoken, we peered into the black night, with the expectation of finding ourselves at any moment under the broadside of a hostile ship five-fold more powerful than our own; for in the wide river and dark night the ram and tugs might readily have passed the enemy without either having seen the other. After a while, the fire-ships were seen in full blaze away down the river, but of the enemy, the Manassas, and the tugs, saw nothing till day dawned. The first object that met our view was the ram lying up against the bank, with Warley and his men standing on her rounded deck. "Well, what's the news? " " We struck the Richmond," was the reply, "but we can't tell what damage we did." The damage, as it turned out, was trifling. 36 CAMP AND FIELD. Just before the blow was struck Warle}^ took bis seat on a camp-stool to await the result, and the shock was sufficient to turn him and the stool over. If the Federal vessels had been commanded by a cool head they would have captured the whole of our mosquito fleet. As it was, at the first sight of a torch on the river they slipped their cables and made haste to bury their keels in the mud on the bar. There we found them wallowing in the morning and exchanged a few shots with them at long range. The Federal officer reported to Washing- ton that he had been driven on the bar by countless fire-ships and an iron-clad ram, and Commodore Hollins telegraphed to Richmond: "I have raised the blockade. I have peppered them well." JLLLJLXOOITA. rJNISMOUNTED from his horse, '4^ On the summit of the hill, D ^ Stood our gallant General Corse, And he stood erect and still. He could see them far below, From the summit where he stood, He could see them come and go. All the rebels under Hood. Under all the far-off trees He could see them form their lines, They were gathering like bees Beneath the oaks and pines. And the hero watched them now, As a man may look on death. With a clouding of the brow, And a quickening of the breath. For the traitors were a host That hourly swelled and grevr, And around him at his post The loyal men were few. Then heavenward looked he, And a prayer was in his eyes. But the banner of the free Waved between him and the skies. And the blue of heaven was blent With the stars, as if, just then, 'Twas an answer God had sent To the leader and his men. Up the hill the flag of truce, With its folds of dingy white. Came as if it could seduce Our general from the fight. And the message that it brought From the rebel in the wood Was as if a coward wrought As a scribe for General Hood. " Now yield ye to our strength, Ere we come with might and main, For yield ye must at length, And the bloodshed will be vain." On the flag gazed General Corse, As in thought, but not in doubt ; Then he leaned upon his horse, And he wrote this answer out : — CAMP AND FIELD, 37 " Ye may come whene'er je will, Ye may come with might and main, I will answer for it still That the bloodshed is not vain." Back, underneath the trees, Went the flag of truce, and then, Like clouds of climbing bees. All the valley swarmed with men. No pen can paint the strife. Nor the long and desperate fight When we gave life after life For our flag and for the right. We saw the false ranks reel, And all the bloody morn They sank beneath our steel Like newly-ripened corn. Bleeding and faint our chief, But watching still, he stood. With a smile of grim relief, The retreating ranks of Hood. And he sighed, " I mourn the dead. For their blood has poured like rain, But 'twas true as truth I said, It sliould not be shed in vain." WHAT A BATTLE IS. The GalFi^, Uhe GaFii^©F2ade, fehe Ghapge, tihe WiQUmj BY A BATTLE-SCARRED VETERAN. /?^ S we formed in line (qJI with the cool ^o green woods at our backs, the birds were singing, the butter- flies fluttering about on erratic wing, and a cow stood under a tree to our right and lazily chewed her cud and switched away the flies. It was midsummer, and the scene was so quiet and peaceful that our eyes would have grown sleepy, had we not known that ten minutes more was to change it into a raging hell. In the woods behind us we could hear the tramp of regiments and brigades — ^^in the forest across the peaceful meadow regiments and brigades of the enemy were coming into position. One could have crossed the meadow and scarcely noticed the prep- arations for the bloody struggle ready to begin. 38 CAMP AND FIELD. Now came that dreadful silence which always falls upon an army just before the flame of destruction is lighted. It is this silence that makes men turn pale and tremble. If it lasts five minutes it seems a day. There is no loud talk — no words of jest. The most reckless man feels the weight of that omi- nous silence. If the line is to be dressed, the order is given in a low voice, and the men step softly. The horses feel the oppres- sion as well as the men. Some move uneasily about, others stand perfectly quiet, ears pointed forward, and eyes searching the woods beyond. Crash! Bang! Roar! The opening comes as suddenly as a thunder-clap, and there is a movement of relief up and down the line. The spell is broken, and men and horses are anxious to move. The song of birds gives place to the roar of guns, the sleepy haze to a cloud of smoke, and Peace stands aghast. The brigade to the left swings out and the one to the right is slowly hidden by the smoke. Bullets are singing over our heads and throwing up the dirt in front. All of a sudden the roar is increased. The enemy has planted a battery on the hill to our left, and is plunging shot and shell into the flank of all the troops on our right. Down our front sweeps an avalanche of destruction, breaking our own lines, and shattering others beyond. We change front to face the battery. The line in front stalks grimly into the smoke, and the line behind us makes its pres- ence known by a steady tramp! tramp! tramp! One cannot tell whether a single regiment or a whole brigade is moving off to charge the battery, for the smoke has drifted upon us until the tenth man to the left or right can barely be counted. We can hear no order, but the line goes straight ahead until clear of a dip in the meadow, and then it suddenly springs forward. Men cheer, but in that awful roar the voice of man could not be heard ten feet away. Men fall to the right and left. The line stumbles over corpses as it hurries on. There are flashes in the smoke-cloud, explosions in the air; men are stepped on or leaped over as they throw up their arms and fall upon the grass in agony of mortal wound. It is a nightmare of death. The rank and flle hear no orders, see no officers, and yet they push on. Bayonets are fixed, and we are upon the guns before we see our enemy. No one has Union Generals. 1. MEADE. ROSECRANS. 3. BURNSIDE. 4. BANKS. 5. SEDGWICK. 6. M'CLELLAN. 7. HALLECK. 8. KILPATRICK. 9. m'PHERSON. CAMP AND FIELD. 39 an order to give, and no order could be heard. The line moves ahead or falls back as if it were controlled by a lever, and yet no one can see how. Each man acts for himself, and yet all act together. There is a struggle over the guns. Men are shot and bay- oneted as they ram home the charges. The guns are dis- charged upon struggling masses not ten feet from the muzzles. Now our lines retreat. Why so we cannot tell. A dozen of us are fighting over a field-piece, shooting, stabbing, and clubbing, but we fall back and reform. Half of the guns are silent, others are pouring grape into us across a space not three hun- dred feet wide. No one seems to give orders, but all at once our lines move forward again with a cheer. No one sees his right or left hand man. For the time each one is alone. The line bends back — doubles up — straightens out — surges ahead — falls back — springs forward, and again we are among the field pieces. Bayonets and sabers clash. Muskets are clubbed to deal blows after bayonets are broken. There is a terrible roar — a thick smoke — a constant cheering and the horrible night- mare forces a single man to attack a dozen. Ah! what is this? All at once there is a lull. Men look around in astonishment. Wounds unfelt five minutes ago begin to bring groans now. What has happened? The smoke drifts and the explanation is at hand. We have captured the guns and routed the regiment in support. It was a bayonet charge, resisted by bayonets, and we have won. There are ten acres of meadow covered with dead and wounded — with knap- sacks, haversacks, canteens, muskets, and swords, and yet it was only one simple move on the chess-board of the battle field. The guns are turned on the enemy, our lines reformed in rear, and men ask if it is really so, that we stalked in the shadow of death for half an hour. It seems like a dream; it might be a dream but for the awful sights all around us, but for the awful cries coming up from the wounded as thirst and pain do their work. ^X-SENATOR POMEROY, of Kansas, states that on March 18, 1861, he and ^^ a friend watched a delegation from the secession convention at Richmond, f^ saw them go to Gen. Lee's house at Arlington, heard them offer him the com- ^ mand of the Virginia army, heard him accept, and then hurried back to Wash- ington and told the President. They w-ere referred to Mr. Seward, who repudiated any suggestion of Lee's disloyalty, and refused to take steps. Next day Lee was in command of the rebel army. Thrilling Experience of a tinion Scout. CAPTURED ON THE STONEMAN RAID.— THREATENED AS A A/ --r« I SPY.— ATTEMPTS TO ESCAPE. JOHN C. HALL, BELT, MICH. :2°ENERAL Capron would never surrender; but finding I was too badly wounded to follow him he made his escape with his command from the field. The severely wounded were removed to Confederate Colonel Has- kell's house. There 1 was pointed out to the Con- federate officers by some of our own men as a spy, and was informed that if I lived until the next day I would be hung. That night John Smouse, of the 2d lud. Cav- alry, died from an amputa- tion and was buried at Sun- shine Church, and a board with my name, company, and regi- ment was placed at the head of his grave. The members of Company E, 14th Wis. Cavalry, can testify to this. We were now moved to Macon hospital, where my hair and beard were removed and I was known as John Culbert. A few days before the surrender squads of our men were sent out to destroy railroad and other pubhc property, but the boys frequently destroyed private property and confiscated articles of value to themselves. My duty as a scout brought me one day to a fine brick resi- dence not far from Sunshine Church, where I discovered some of our boys. I dismounted and went in to see what they were at. I found they had piled some fine furniture on a splendid CAMP AND FIELD. 41 piano in the parlor and were about firing it. I tried, to dissuade them, telling them that we were not sent down there to make war on defenseless women and children, or to insult them and destroy their property. This only aggravated the boys; they made for me, and it was not until I knocked three of them down with the back of my saber that they could understand me. They then left, I threatening to report them. It occurred to me afterwards, as I lay in hospital at Macon, why I had been pointed out as a spy. As I recovered from my wound I was allowed the freedom of the hospital grounds. One day I met a paroled Federal officer — a prominent commander in the late disastrous raid. He turned to the guard and said, " You had better take care of that fellow (pointing to me); he is a dangerous man." The guard replied, "Mind your own d d business. You don't run this thing." I soon found out why I ijiet with so much considera- tion at the hands of the enemy. The people whose property I saved from conflagration came to the hospital, thanked me for what I had done for them, gave me a roll of Confederate money, and expressed a hope that they might give further assistance. I soon lost this soft thing, for we were sent to that world- wide renowned pen at Andersonville. Here I saw and heard things too terrible to mention. I can only say that, after all that has been said and written, "the half has not been told," and never should be. It would be too revolting for human ear. At the end of six weeks I made my escape. The dogs were put on my track, but I managed to avoid them. I wandered in the bush for several days; was captured near Griffintown and taken back to Macon. After five days I walked out into the country and hid in the bushes, making my way the best I could toward the Union lines. After three weeks I was recaptured near Millen and taken to Lawton. I remained there five weeks. I was sent out one morning with the wood squad and forgot to go back. I wandered in the woods several days and nights, until my feet were so frozen that I could not walk. A reb found me, took me to his home, made me comfortable, and in a few days turned me over to the proper authorities, and I was sent to Savannah prison. Escaping again, I went out on a rice plantation and remained secure for three weeks, when I heard they were exchanging prisoners at Charleston, so I went thither 42 CAMP AND FIELD. and gave myself up. But here I met with a sad disappoint- ment. I was put on a train with some other prisoners to be sent to Florence. We were put in a box car with two guards. Before reaching Florence we passed over a long trestlework. It was growing dark, and our guards were standing by the open side door lighting their pipes. Quick as a tiger I sprang upon them, pushed them from the car, and they fell clear off the bridge. Their guns went off when they struck the trestle- work, but I have never heard from the guards. At the first stop I escaped from the train, secure in the darkness. I wan- dered about several days, but becoming exhausted, I surren- dered to General Iverson, at Florence, who, in spite of all the unpleasantness between us at Stoneman's surrender, treated me very kindly. I remained at Florence until March, 1865, when I was exchanged and rejoined my old regiment. ►1^ :f CARVED HIS OWN HEADBOARD. SINGULAR DEATH OF" A. SERGEANT-IVIAJOR. BY OLIVER EDWARDS, BREVET MAJOR-GENERAL, U. S. A. mli^EMONITIOXS of death in bat- ^p tie prove false a hundred times to. one ; but I will relate an instance where it proved true, that occurred within my own command, the 4th Brigade, 2d Division, 6th Corps. It was at the close of a charge upon the enemy's lines, with my brigade shel- tered from heavy volleys of grape and canister by a slight rise of the ground in front. The regiments were jirone in line, and night closing in rapidly. One of my regiments (the 10th Mass., Col. J. B. Parsons), their time expiring that night, had their orders to proceed to City Point the next morning and embark for home. Sergt.-Maj. George F. Polly at this time carved upon a shingle, or slab, his own headboard, as follows: "Sergt.-Maj. George F. Polly, 10th Mass. Vols. Killed at Petersbura-, Va., June 21, 1864" — the date being for the next day, when he knew the regiment was going home. He handed the headboard to a comrade and in- sisted that he would be killed the next day. At daylight next day the regiment was i-elieved from duty and marched to the rear of Sugar Loaf Hill, and halted to draw rations. On the top of the hill two negroes were on a scaffold to be executed for rape. The rebels fired one shell from a twenty- pound siege gun. The shell passed over the hill and burst. A large frag- ment struck Sergeant-jNIajor Polly, in- stantly killing him. He was the only man hit, and that, too, in a position where he seemed perfectly safe. Any member of the brave 10th Mass. then present can vouch for the truth of the above. RECOLLECTIONS OF A.'S ARMT # NURSE. MRS. M. M. C. RICHARDS. ^^r* m UCH zeal and linen were wast- ed in the early- days of have- locks and lint- scraping, and many yards of cotton expended in fashion- ing shirts and drawers so large that no Yankee soldier could pos- sibly fill one, ex- c e p t he were measured by his courage and en- durance. One pair fell into our hands, measuring eight feet in length and wide in proportion. These were laid aside at the sug- gestion of a Bos- ton surgeon for mush poultice bags into which the patient should be slipped and tied up. The first volunteer hospital was opened to the sick men of the 19th Ind. Regt. in the unfinished wing of the United States patent office, by the action of Caleb Smith, Secre- tary of the Interior. This was in its beginning a rude affair, and when we entered with Mrs. Almira Fales into the rough, comfortless wards we were dismayed. But her cheerful order, "Go to work, girls, wash their faces, comb their hair, do what you can,"— and her salutation to the men, " Now, boys, I guess you'll get well; I've brought some young ladies to see you,"— lent an atmosphere of cheer to the scene, for the moment at least. The sick boys were lying on rough boards, or on tiles placed against the walls, with or without mattresses 44 CAMP AND FIELD. as it happened. Surgeons and hospital stewards and women worked in a confused way without order or direction. But from disorder and discomfort gradually came a well ordered hospital, which was opened to patients from all regiments, but still called the Indiana hospital. But that was in the summer of '61, and we could smile at the wants of wounded men then. Later on came pathetic scenes at which we did not smile — one when Tyler, of Michigan, was brought in, accidentally shot through both knees while gather- ing wood for a camp-fire. The surgeon trying to save both limbs waited too long, and one sorrowful day the nurse found the usually cheerful fellow crying like a child at the decision of the surgeon just made known to him. "My leg has got to be amputated to-morrow; I wish it could be done to-day if it has got to come off " — and then the thought of going home crippled, it was almost better not to go at all. '' But you'll stay by me, won't you?" On the promise given in response to this he relied. The next day, stretched upon the rude amputating table, he looked about for the nurse, and taking her hand said. "Now let me go to sleep," and so seemed content till the blessed chloroform deadened all thought or care. Though the opera- tion was successful, and all the first conditions good, a second- ary hemorrhage occurred after the first dressing, and we could only sit by the poor fellow as his life ebbed away. In the winter, small-pox appeared and many of the boys were sent to Kalorama, to the government pest-house. The first case I re- member to have been a red-headed man who begged to have his hair brushed to ease the pain in his head. He presently remarked that he guessed that "brush would take the hide off." The surgeon passing by stopped to examine the pustules that appeared, and hastily advised no more brushing. The man was at once removed to an outer hall, and the ambulance car- ried him away. The summer of 'G2 found better hospital accommodations for the army, and the Indiana hospital was closed. Now came a chance to go " to the front." All the world was crying " On to Richmond," and on to Richmond we essayed to go. Mrs. Almira Fales had already made an expedition to the army at Savage Station, and there distributed to the soldiers bountiful supplies furnished generously from the North. She had returned to Washington to replenish her stores, and CAMP AND FIELD. 4b now proposed a second journey. She remarked that " those boys had been fed on lint and bandages long enough; I'm going to take them some goodies." The writer was, to her great delight, allowed to accompany Mrs. Fales as her assistant, and, armed with passes from the Secretary of War, we went to Fortress Monroe, only to learn that no farther could we go at present. We were ordered to proceed to the James river, casting anchor about dark alongside the gun-boat Port Royal. A little boat's crew came to visit us and the crowd on deck are electrified by the news we hear from them. " Mc- Clellan cut to pieces, the left wing twenty-three miles back, and the whole army on the skedaddle," The captain of the Port Royal gives the parting advice to Captain Woods of the Daniel Webster to " hurry up in the morning, keep all the ladies below, and don't be surprised to see a shot across your bows any time." July 1, I wake early to find ourselves steaming rapidly up the James river. Reach Harrison's Landing at seven o'clock. Find crowds of sick, wounded, and worn-out men engaged in the recent battles. It is not long before Mrs. Fales and I are among them. None of these were very seriously wounded, but all were seriously hungry and demolished the rations with the skill of veterans. Mrs. Fales's supplies furnish all the pro- visions we have for the sick, and she deals them out lavishly all day long, forgetting even to eat any dinner herself. For my own part I am busy helping here and there. Some wounds I wash and bandage. One shattered finger I wash and leave covered till a surgeon comes. He takes out his knife and before I know it the finger is left there for me to pick up and throw away! One man was struggling in vain to dress a wound on his shoulder. Offering to help him I found him so in need of cleaning up generally that I proposed that he should wash his face first. "Wash my face," said he, as if the idea were new, ''why I haven't washed my face since the 24th of June! " " Well," said I; '' would you like to try it for a change? " "I guess so," he answered; "you see we hadn't any water to spare for our faces down on the Chickahominy; we drank water that we wouldn't give to a dog at home." I brought him a basin of water, soap, towel, and a clean shirt and left him to these luxuries. You should have heard him laugh when I came again to find him. "Don't know me now, I'm so clean, 46 CAMP AND FIELD. do you?" This story is good to tell to those who are fond of quoting that other story of the young lady who went one morn- ing into a city hospital and proposed to bathe the head of a sick soldier. The soldier declined her offer with thanks, but she insisted, saying, " Let nie bathe your head, I want so much to be useful." "Well," he sighed, "you can if you want to so bad, but you are the fourteenth one as has done it this morning." COMPIvKTKLY UNNERVKD. 'HE following comes from a Grand Ai-my man in Maine : — " It was at the battle of Gettysburg, when the bullets were falling like hail, and the shells ■were shrieking and bursting over our heads in a way to make the bravest heart tremble, that a private dropped out of the ranks and skulked back toward the rear. He was well under way, when, unfortunately for him, he was met by General Slocum coming to the front. " ' What are you doing here ? Get back to your post ! ' the General shouted. " The poor fellow stopped still and trembled like a leaf, but made no reply. " ' Get back to your post, you misera- ble coward ! Aren't you ashamed of yourself to be skulking back here when you should be in front with your brave comrades ? ' " Still the man made no reply, but commenced to cry like a year-old in- fant. " ' You infamous, sneaking coward ! ' shouted the infuriated General, 'get back to your post 1 I'll ride you down like a dog. Why, you are nothing but a baby.' " ' I-I-I'll t-t-tell you what, General,' said the blubbering fellow, ' I'd g-g-give anything just now if I was a b-b-baby; and i-i-if I had my choice I'd rather be a female b-b-baby.' " SHERIDAN'S OPINION OF GRANT. !SAW General Grant for the first time on the battle field at Shiloh. General McPherson, whose picture hangs there, was with him at the time. Although we had belonged to the same regiment we had never met before. After the Mississippi campaign I met General Grant a second time, and after- ward I was thrown with him more or less. When he became lieutenant gen- eral, he placed me in charge of the cavalry service of the Army of the Po- tomac. I accompanied him to Florida and to Mexico, and our acquaintance was not only intimate, but almost lovable. He was a far greater man than people thought him. He was always able, no matter how situated, to do more than was expected of him. That has always been my opinion of General Grant. I have the greatest admiration for him, both as a mau and as a commander. BAtriiE 0F PEA RIBGE. March 7, 1862. A TERRIKIC STRUaOLK KOR VICTORY. (BY ONE WHO WAS THERE.) HE battle opened by an attack upon the right of the Union line near Elkhorn Tavern, where the ^ 24:th Missouri was stationed. Colonel Carr at once advanced to the relief of this outpost, which movement brought on the battle. Curtis's gallant divi- sion moved into position under fire, and 'i^ Davis was or- dered to sup- port it, but a sudden attack on the left changed the direction of the latter to steadv lines. the relief of O s t e r h a u s. General Curtis says: " The battle raged in the center with terrible fury. Colonel Davis held the posi- t i o n against fearful num- bers and our troops stood or charged in The fate of the battle depended on success against this flank movement of the enemy, and here, near Leetown, was the place to break it down. The fall of Generals McCulloch, Mcintosh, and other officers of the enemy, who fell early in the day, aided us in our final success at this most critical point; and the steady courage of officers and men in our lines chilled and broke down the hordes of Indians, cavalry, and infantry that were arrayed against us. While the battle raged in the center the right wing was sorely pressed, and the dead and wounded were scattered over the field. Colonel Carr sent for 48 CAMP AND FIELD. re-enforcements and I sent a few cavalry and my body guard, Avith the little mountain howitzers, under Major Bowen, These did good service at a most critical period. I urged Colonel Carr to stand firm — that more force could be expected soon. Subse- quently Colonel Carr sent me word that he could not hold his position much longer. I could then only reply by the order 'persevere.' He did persevere, and the sad havoc in the 9th and 4th Iowa and Phelps's Missouri and Major Weston's 24th Missouri, and all the troops in that division, will show how earnest and continuous was their perseverance." Sigel, detecting McCulloch's movement to join forces with Price, attempted to intercept it with cavalry and three pieces of artillery. By a vigorous onslaught of the Indian cavalry , our guns were captured, the cavalry routed, and the way opened for McCulloch to obtain for his infantry the cover of a dense wood, on the west of which was a large open field. Here ensued a protracted and fearful struggle between McCulloch and the forces under Osterhaus, who, by hard fighting, held his position until the arrival of Davis with his division, when, by a gallantly executed charge, the Confederates were driven from the field. In the crisis of the struggle McCulloch dashed for- ward to reconnoiter, and fell a victim to his rashness. Almost at the same moment Mcintosh fell while leading a cavalry charge upon a Union battery. Deprived of these two favorite generals the shattered forces of the enemy retired in dismay to rally on Price's corps. The conflict raged with unremitting fury on the right and center, where Price, in a determined attempt to carry that posi- tion, had pushed his troops into the fight regardless of loss. At 3 P. M. General Curtis ordered Sigel to re-enforce the 3d and 4th Divisions. Colonel Carr, covered with blood from three wounds, with one arm disabled, was falling slowly back, contesting the ground step by step. Many of his field officers had fallen; and the ground in his front, covered with wounded and dying, told how stubborn had been the resistance of the heroic 4th Division. The 4th Iowa, falling back for ammunition, dressing on its colors in perfect line, was met by General Curtis, who ordered the regiment to face about and hold its position until re-enforcements should arrive. Colonel Dodge rode forward and explained that his men were out of car- CAMP AND FIT^LD. 49 tridges. "Charge with the bayonet, then/' said Curtis. The men faced about at the order, and, with a cheer, pressed for- ward. The enemy, not liking the glittering steel, fell back, and the lost ground was won. Arboth planted his artillery in the road and opened on the enemy. The 2d Missouri deployed and pressed forward. The shades of night were falling, but the fight raged with increasing vehemence. Colonel Osterhaus had moved to the support of General Davis, who, with a portion of his division, was still engaged on Carr's left; but it was too late when he got into position to open fire, and his weary troops bivouacked upon the field. On the right the firing continued until the batteries ran out of ammunition (the Confederates firing the last shot), when the two divisions arrayed along the edge of a piece of timber with fields in front, sought rest in sleep. The loss on Curtis's right had been compensated by victory on his left. The discipline of Carr's division prevented anything like panic. They had been forced back by superior numbers, but had held together, and, in proportion to numbers, the divi- sion was as strong for service as before the conflict began. Van Dorn's headquarters were at Elkhorn Tavern, where Curtis had been the previous morning. Each army held its opponent's line of retreat. There was no recourse but to fight for their communications with their respective bases. It is said that several officers of the Union army met at the headquarters of a division commander, and sending for the colonel of a cavalry regiment, directed him, in case of defeat, to hold his men in readiness to escort them to the open country in the rear of the Confederate lines. They were, however, prevented from rivaling the exploit of Floyd and Pillow, by a timely return of reason and the dawn of day. The fight of the following morning was brief, but was hotly contested. With the rising sun the Union troops renewed the con- test with Price, Davis's division opened the fight from one of his batteries, which was replied to with terrible correctness by three of the Confederate batteries posted where they would do the most execution. The entire Union line now advanced. The dark blue line of the 36th Illinois in front steadily rose from base to summit of the ridge whence the Confederate bat- 50 CAMP AND FIELD. teries had dealt death and destruction to the Union ranks. The 12th Missouri also rushed into the enemy's lines, bearing off a flag and two pieces of artillery. The roar of artillery was deafening, for every gun continued firing until it was captured or driven back. When Van Dorn determined to withdraw from the field, he left Col. Henry Little, with a Missouri brigade, to hold the field as long as possible. For two hours this com'mand held their position in support of several batteries. Unshaken by the tremendous artillery fire converged upon them, they remained until their ranks were decimated, their artillery horses killed, and their guns dismounted by the terrible fire. Then onward crept the skirmish line, and behind them the artillery. The range short- ened, no charge by the Confederates could save them now. A sudden rush and rapid firing by the skirmishers drove them to the shelter of the woods, whence they were dislodged by a charge all along the Union line, and the retreat of Van Dorn's army was revealed to the astonished gaze of the Union troops. Van Dorn retired with his beaten army south of the Boston Mountains, where Curtis could not follow him. • — ^-s-"? — »*o — ♦—§-<—— THE HEROIC McCOOK FAMILY, ^IMHE venerable mother of that dis- Tennessee, having gone in his ambu- q^^ tinguislied family of soldiers, the lance, to which he vv'as confined by " fighting McCooks," of Ohio, has sickness, a short distance ahead of his been laid to rest with her group of heroes brigade. When Morgan made his raid in Spring Grove Cemetery in Cincinnati, into Ohio, Maj. Daniel McCook, al- She had twelve children, nine of them though sixty-seven years old, white sons, and eight of the sons were at haired, and not connected with the some time during the War of the Re- army, joined the forces that pursued bellion engaged in the military service him, and received a mortal wound in under the Union flag. One who was the fight on Buffington Island, July 21, educated at West Point became a major 1863. Brig.-Gen. Daniel McCook was general, two who joined the volunteer killed in the attack on Kenesaw Mount- army from civil life became brigadier ain, June 27, 1861. generals. Three of her sons and her The other five soldier sons survived nusband were killed by the enemy, the perils of that war, but one of them Charles Morris McCook, a private, was afterward fell in an Indian fight. Of killed in the first Bull Run battle, 21st Mrs. McCook's twelve children, but two July, 1861. Brig.-Gen. Robert L. Mc- sons and two daughters survived their Cook was murdered by guerrillas in mother. JUST * LIKE ii LINCOLN. A Twelve -Dollar Telegram and the Answer it Brought* November. 1864. THOS. J. STEVENS, 1st Sergt. Co. B, 122d 111. Inf. Vols. ^ N October, 18G4, 1 was acting adjutant at the con- valescent barracks in St. Louis, Mo. There were 400 in the barracks awaiting the return of the 16th corps from its pursuit of Price. PoHtics ran high. About one-third of the boys were for "• Little Mack," the others strongly in favor of the re-election of "Uncle Abe." Nearly all the Western states were represented in the barracks. About one hundred of us were Illinois men, which state, owing to its copperhead legislature of the previous year, did not permit its soldiers to vote in the field or away from home. Most of the loyal states had made provision for their soldiers to vote in the field in all general elections. As the day of election drew near the anxiety of the " boys" to exercise " the rights of freemen" became intense. Rebel sympathizers had spread the report that the McClellan men would not be furloughed to vote against " Old Abe"; but orders were issued by the President to furlough as many men belonging to states refusing their soldiers a vote away from home as the good of the service would warrant and for such length of time as would be necessary to return home and get back to their commands. In compliance with this order, thousands were allowed to go home and vote — vote as they pleased — without fear or reward from their superior officers. All were treated alike, whether Republicans or Dem- ocrats. The result was that many soldiers who had intended voting for "Little Mack," voted for " Uncle Abe," because he 52 CAMP AND FIELD. had given them the opportunity of voting against him — such are the perversities and contradictions of human nature! Lieuten- ant Chapman, of my regiment, was in command of our bar- racks. When we began to look for a chance to go home to vote, no one could be found who commanded him lower in rank than the department commander, who was several hun- dred miles away in the field after Price, where it was impossi- ble to get an order from him for furloughs. His adjutant- general at St. Louis decided that he could do nothing, and told us thathe had telegraphed to the Secretary of War, and could get no reply, and we must give it up. Having heard of Mr. Lincoln's kindness of heart for the "boys" and his disregard for red tape, it was suggested to the lieuten- ant that we telegraph the President, stating our case briefly and asking him to authorize the lieutenant to give us furloughs — the Illinois men for five days, and those from more distant states for ten days. This was not received with favor except by the lieutenant and a few of the more sanguine believers in "Uncle Abe." I wrote out the dispatch and read it to the as- sembled crowd. The Lincoln men said it was useless, as the President would not notice it unless it came through the regu- lar channels. The McClellan men said they knew they would not be furloughed anyway, if others were, and that they would go to no trouble about it; but wait till they did get a chance, and they would show the Abolitionists whether they could run things, and whether a white man wasn't as good as a nigger! After a long discussion, in which the lieutenant and I assured them that all should be treated alike, it was decided to send a man to the telegraph office, three miles away, and find out what it would cost to send it to Washington. The man returned with the astounding information that it would cost twelve dol- lars! None of us had been paid off for several months, and were strapped, so the raising of such a large amount proved a serious undertaking; but finally this sum was made up and the dis- patch sent. Next evening an answer came, signed by the President, directing Lieutenant Chapman to furlough the men, as requested in our message. Great was the rejoicing when this was read. Three cheers and a tiger were given with a vim for "Old Abe," the McClellan men outvying the Lincoln men, if possible, in their demonstrations of delight at the good news. Nearly all the McClellan men declared that they would never CAMP AND FIELD, 53 vote against " Uncle Abe," and so far as I could learn, not one of them did. Lincoln was far wiser than any of his generals, and knew better than they how to reach the hearts of his soldiers, because his own generous heart was always concerned for the rights, the needs, the privations, and the sorrows of "those who bore the burden of the battle," that "a government of the people, by the people, and for the people, should not perish from the earth." SEXTON BROWN AND NATHANIEL P. BANKS. ^!^^NE Sunday, during the war, the ^1^^ late Sexton Brown of Grace Church, New York, was perform- ing the duty of grand usher at the church, when a soldier, who presented a seedy appearance, walked up the main aisle and took a seat near the chancel. All at once there was a buzz among the congregation, and the sexton stepped up to the stranger, and tapping hun on the shoulder, said : — " I will show you to a seat, sir." The soldier rose and followed BrowTi, who led him to a rear pew. As he en- tered the pew and was about to sit down, the stranger removed liis faded overcoat and disclosed a handsome, brand-new military suit, with the straps of a major-general upon the shoulders. Then there was another hum of con- versation and a rustling of silks as the congregation moved in their pews to get a view of the man. Again Sexton Brown approached the soldier, and said : — " General, I'd be pleased to give you a good seat." " Oh, never mind," said the military gentleman. "I'm much obliged to you. I've been among the commoners for the last year or two, and I guess I can worship God back here among them as well as up in front." Brown retired as gracefully as possi- ble, and was quite surprised before the service was over to learn that the sol- dier in the seedy overcoat was Maj.- Gen. Nathaniel P. Banks. EIGHTY-SIX BATTLES. BUTLER "BOTTLED UP." It is said that some of the regiments of the 5th Army Corps participated in eighty-six battles — no flag can possibly hold all the names. We venture to say ithat there never was a corps in ki any other army that can show 9 such a gallant record as this. fi The term " Bottled Up," as applied to Gen. Butler, did not come from Gen. Grant but Gen. Barnard. Gen. Barnard reported to Gen. Grant the condition of affairs in Gen. Butler's department, and, drawing a sketch of the locality, said he is effectually " bottled up." APRIL 7, 1862. The Second Day's Fight— Greatest Battle Ever Before Fought On This Continent. BY ALEXANDER S. JOHNSTONE, FIRST SERGT. CO. H, U. S. ARTILLERY. ^ S-e X- J|[^HE battle of Shiloh on the 6th and 7th of April, ■'yj 1862, was, at the time, the greatest battle ever fought on this continent. On the first day the Union forces sustained an overwhelming defeat, the camp and garrison equipage of the army, several batteries, and nearly three thousand prisoners being captured by the Confederates. On the sec- ond day the Union army gained a decisive victory, re- capturing in turn their camp and garrison equipage, and twenty pieces of artillery. It will be my province to treat of the second day's battle, writing only what came under my observation. The brigade to which our battery belonged (Boyle's, of Crittenden's division) arrived at Savannah, Tenn., at 12 M., on Sunday, April 6. Although the sound of artillery was heard all the morning, we little dreamed that a great battle was in progress until we entered Savannah and saw the wounded, who had arrived in transports from the field. Shiloh was nine miles by water, but in an air line only five miles distant. Nelson's division, which arrived ahead of ours, left Savannah at 1 p. m. for the scene of action, marching up the right bank of the Tennessee river. As the road which they had to traverse was swampy, the artillery had to be left behind. It was about three o'clock before a steamer arrived at the wharf for our battery. Of Buell's forces, there were on the field at daybreak, Mon- day, Nelson's division in line of battle, the most of Crittenden's division, and none of McCook's. Buell was in consultation with Grant during the night at Sherman's headquarters. The CAMP AND FIELD. 55 agreement arrived at was that Buell should make the attack on the enemy's right at daybreak. Nelson's skirmishers could be heard far in the front. Crittenden's division was in the rear of Nelson's, Ammen's brigade was on the left, Bruce's in the center, and Hazen's on the right, moving forward in line of battle. Buell halted it to allow Crittenden's division to complete its deployment on Nelson's right. Nelson again advanced, but finding the Con- federates strongly posted on his front fell back, having no artillery. During the above movements our battery was or- dered forward to take position some three hundred yards from it and diagonally to the right. Our battery consisted only of four guns, two three-inch rifled Rodmans and two twelve-pound howitzers. We halted in front of a clearing about ten acres in extent; the two rifled guns went into position on the left of the clearing, the two howitzers on the right. The two rifled guns opened fire, throwing shells far in towards the Confederate lines, but the enemy's sharp- shooters began picking off our men. Having lost four men in about ten minutes the section limbered up and got out of the way. The section on the right unlimbered for action, but seeing a body of Confederates advancing as if to charge, it limbered up also, both sections joining and taking a new posi- tion to the right, and forward of the clearing. We had thrown the gauntlet of defiance. The Confederates soon opened with two batteries, and a spirited artillery fight took place, Bartlett's battery coming to our relief. In a short time the Confederate batteries withdrew and we ceased firing. A lull of thirty minutes took place. Suddenly there opened on our front the most terrific musketry fire I ever heard. It was a continuous roar. Our troops, though green, withstood the assault bravely, our battery firing with great rapidity. The Confederates finally retreated from our front. On our left Nelson's division was being roughly handled. Three batteries had opened on his front. Buell sent our battery to his relief. Firing with great rapidity and accuracy, we silenced the center battery, when Hazen's brig- ade charged upon it, capturing the guns. The two opposing batteries opened upon them, driving them back beyond their original line. Nelson was sorely pressed, the Confederates advancing along his whole front. There 56 CAMP AND FIELD. was danger of his flank being turned, so Buell sent forward Terrell's battery. It had thus far taken no part in the action. Dashing past Ammen's line it quickly unlimbered and opened a rapid fire, but the opposing battery, concentrating its fire upon it, compelled it to retire. Animen's brigade had fallen back, but re-enforced by a regiment sent to his aid by General Buell, it now moved forward to the ground where the enemy had been. The most of McCook's division had arrived by this time and were placed on Crittenden's right. Buell in person led our bat- tery to a new position, the 13th and 19th Ohio supporting us. There was then a quiet, premonitory of a coming storm. It soon came; so suddenly and with such boldness, that the 13th and 19th Ohio broke for a time and passed to the rear. Lieutenant Parsons gave orders to the men of the battery, " Unhitch the traces and save the horses," but Captain Mendenhall exclaimed: "We lose all or none!'" Running back to our guns we opened a rapid and accurate fire with canister on the advancing line, which kept it at bay. The 13th Ohio, under Colonel Smith, rallied to our relief, dashing to our front when our battery ceased firing. In a short time the Confederates opened a terrific fire on a part of Nelson's line, where Terrell's battery was, and essayed to capt- ure it. Fixing prolonges, it kept up a rapid fire as it retreated. It was making a gallant fight, which called forth the admira- tion of our battery. The cannoneers at one of his guns were all either killed or wounded, and volunteers from the Gth Ohio took their place. A regiment was sent forward to Nelson's relief, and with rapid volleys the Confederate line at that point was sent reeling back in disorder. We were now pressing the Confederates steadily back along the whole line, and our battery took its last position. A storm was brewing in our front which we little expected. It came in the shape of the most galling musketry fire we had ever encountered. All the canister for our howitzers was expended. Some rifle canister being left we used that, and when the last canister was fired the captain gave orders to cease firing. The Confederates were, however, retreating along the whole front and the second day's battle of Shiloh was won. \^\{la @ Seemes @ ^t ® ^fiiloR, April 6, 7, 1S62. A Day of Southern Success, followed by a Day of Disaster. HOW GENERAX, JOHNSTON FELL.— BEAUREGARD'S APPEARANCE ASrONG THE YELLOW JACKETS. Bv B. F. SAWYER, Colonel 24TH Alabama Regiment. T was a beautiful Sabbath morning at Shiloh. The air was fresh and bahny as a morning in June. Our forces consisted of General Polk's 1st, General Bragg's 2d, General Hardee's 3d, and General Breckinridge's reserved corps, with the cav- ^' , airy division —: of General / Gardner, mak- / [ ing a total ef- fective force of some 4 0,000 men. General Johnston's plan of battle con- sisted of three lines in the fol- io win a; order: General Har- d e e 's corps, s t r e n gthened b y Gladden's brigade of Bragg's corps, constituted the first line, ex- tending from Owl Creek on the left to Lick Creek on the right. This line fell per- pendicular to and across the Corinth road, a distance of three miles. The second line, consisting of the remainder of Bragg's corps, was drawn out parallel with, and two hundred yards to the rear of the first, and was to conform its movements to the first. The third line was similarly disposed, i. e., five hundred yards in the rear of the second, and was to conform to its move- ments. This line consisted of Polk's corps. Breckinridge's corps was massed in the rear of the center of Polk's, and was 58 CAMP AND FIELD. to move forward in column, ready to be deployed when and wherever support should be needed. The woods in the immediate front of our brigaJe and through which we had to pass to reach the enemy, were a tangle of swamp, bushes, and brambles, and exceedingly diffi- cult to penetrate. Now and then a small patch of cleared ground around a cabin relieved the toilsome scramble through the chaparral. At sunrise we were ordered to move forward. We had not proceeded far before the roll of musketry in front told that the work of death had begun. Then came the pecul- iar sharp ringing report of the twelve pound Parrotts, and soon another and another, each greeted by a yell of defiance by our eager and thoroughly aroused men. Ascending a little slope we encountered General Beauregard and his staff. The general had a magnificent coach and four — a la Napoleon — drawn out on the hillside. Captain Dewberry was a good fighter, but he had supreme contempt for the finesse drill; and their obstruction, stretch- ing the full front of his company, filled him with perplexity. Had it been a four-gun battery confronting him and his yellow jackets, he would have been at no loss for action, but that gaudy coach, with its caparisoned team, fianked too by the general and his staff in all the glory of gold lace and feathers, was more than his "tactics" had ever provided for. Without knowing how to fiank it he marched his company squarely against it, when perforce the men halted and looked around in confusion. The regiment was aligning upon the colors, and of course the sudden halt of Co. C, confused the entire line. "Move forward. Captain Dewberry," thundered Colonel Blythe, mortified at the ignoble confusion of his line under the very eyes of General Beauregard. But how was Captain Dewberry to move forward with that formidable ob- struction before him? At length, he turned to one of the tinsel- bedecked aide-de-camps and roared out: "Take that damned old stage out o' the way or I'll tumble it down the hill." The battle in front had become general. All along that fear- ful three mile line the rattle of musketry and the roar of artil- lery was deafening the air. Soon the ambulances, toiling under their loads of wounded and dying, came groaning by, and with them straggling soldiers telling horrible tales of bloody work, "just over the hill." One little hero, a mere CAMP AND FIELD. 59 child, — who ought in decency to have been with his mother, — who belonged to Co. D, IGth Miss., came up and reported his regiment cut up, and requested permission to fall in with us. He was given a place in the line, and throughout that bloody day the little fellow fought like a man. We had now reached a point opposite the Iowa camps, di- rectly in front of the enemy's right center. Before us lay an almost impenetrable thicket of brambles and briers. Having cleared a "jungle'' we crossed at a double-quick the little field beyond, when, rising to the crest of a sharp hill, we were brought face to face with the battle. Never shall I forget the grandeur of that sight. The enemy's camps lay before us, spreading far and wide, dotting the well cleared slope. McClernand's division was in our front. Dark masses of men clothed in blue were moving in soldierly pre- cision before us; some wheeling into line, others deploying, and others recumbent on the ground, awaiting in tiger-like stillness our approach, to hurl death in our faces; the deafening roar of the guns; the unearthly shriek of the shells; the rattle of mus- ketry; the venomous "pringe" of the bullet, all conspired to make it a scene the grandest ever mortal eye beheld. Then came the order, thrilling every heart — " By the left of companies, forward into line; double quick, march." No order was ever more handsomely executed. Each company filed into line as deliberately as if that long line of sullen blue that lay scarcely three hundred yards in front was a line of friends in- stead of foes. Co. A, Captain Sharp, had scarcely attained posi- tion before the enemy opened fire; like a simoom's breath, it hissed through our ranks; our line moved forward until, within one hundred paces of the line of blue, and then we were lost in the blaze, the thunder, and frenzy of battle. The entire day was one of repeated and hard-earned triumph. After each fierce shock the Federal lines were formed, only to be broken and hurled back again. It was a fearful carnage, and none but heroes could have formed and reformed as the Federals did that day. A foeman, less worthy, would have been swept from the field by the first triumphant onslaught. By noon we had driven McClernand from his tents, and by 3 p. M, the entire Federal force was broken. A ball struck and pierced the calf of General Johnston's left leg. Undisturbed by a flesh wound he continued to give 60 CAMP AND FIELD. orders to his staff. Soon, however, the profuse hemorrhage attracted the attention of his friends, when it was discovered — too late — that an artery had been cut. But, glorious as was that Sunday of battle, its honors were bought at a fearful price. Co. I carried into the battle thirty men — of these six were killed and seventeen wounded. The bal- ance of the regiment suffered in proportion. Our gallant Colonel Blythe was killed and Lieutenant-Colonel Herron mortally wounded; Captains Humphries and Dewberry — brave old Dewberry! — Lieutenant McEachim, Lieutenant Hall, and Lieu- tenant Allen, with eighty men, were killed, and 120 were wounded out of an effective force of 330 rank and file. A mus- ket ball through the right knee tripped me up as the enemy's line was broken. A captured gun, one of Burrows's 14th Ohio Battery, served as an excellent ambulance, and thrown astride its grimy back I rode out of that terrible fight as proudly as ever rode a Roman conqueror of old. That night our army lay upon the field. So complete did they consider the victory that but little thought was given to the morrow. The night was given to plundering, and richly were those camps furnished. Such a lavish abundance of good things had never been spread before unrestrained hands. At length the morning came, not as the morning before, but dark, gloomy, and chill. The sun of Austerlitz had set; it was the sun of Waterloo struggling through the gloomy mist of the morn. The clouds hung dark with threatening rain. The very air seemed weighted with gloomy forebodings. It was nearly nine o'clock before the roll of musketry and the roar of artillery was heard. And when it did come it had not that animated ring which characterized the struggle of the day before. Our troops, demoralized by the night's revel, were hastily thrown to- gether in mixed commands. All day I lay upon my back, unable to move a single muscle without a painful effort, and listened to that sham of a battle. At length about three o'clock in the afternoon the firing ceased. Then a courier came and ordered the provost guard to move off with the prisoners. Soon an- other came ordering all the wounded who could walk or be removed to leave, as the army was about to retreat to Corinth. The last battle fought by the 2d 1 battle of Boydtown Plank Road, Octo- Corps, under General Hancock, was the | ber 27, 1864. Running Forts Jackson and St. Phillip. APKIt, 34, 1863. The Enemy's Blazing Fire-Raft Matched by Farragut GEN. B. Jb\ BVTLER. [j\j the spring of 'G3, one tropical night, so calm and still that a low mist hung clingingly to the shores and across the wide rolling waters of the Mississippi, in two divisions up and down the stream lay the Federal fleet; the flag- ship Hartford, two miles below Fort Jackson, a casemated work, armed also with guns en barbette. Sheltered by the edge of the forest which grew down into the water, lay twenty-one schooners, each having a thirteen inch mortar on her deck, which for nearly eight days had been throwing a shell at the fort every twenty minutes. The second division of the fleet, under command of Cap- tain Bailey, lay parallel to Farragut's division, nearer the left bank of the river on which was Fort St. Phillip, a strong but not a casemated work. Both these forts were fully armed with eight and ten inch Columbiads and six inch rifles, the heaviest ordnance then known. The only sailing ship, the sloop of war Portsmouth, had been towed into position in the early nightfall and moored where her batteries could command the water battery of Fort Jackson. Every preparation had been made for silencing the enemy^s guns as the fleet passed the forts. The port guns of the first division were loaded with grape and canister and their muzzles depressed so as to reach the embrasures of the casemates of the fort, which lie just above the water which flows by its base. The guns on the right side of that division were left unloaded because Bailey's division would be between them and Fort St. 62 CAMP AND FIELD. Phillip. In his division the reverse was done; the right guns were loaded with grape and canister, and the left guns, next Farragut's division, were unloaded to prevent accident. Between the fleet and the forts lay the remains of the enor- mous chains floated on schooners which had been anchored across the river forming, as the commanders of the forts thought, an impassable barrier to navigation. By a daring reconnoissance this chain had been cut and the cables of the schooners slipped, so that the chains on both sides were floated down parallel to the line of the shore, and instead of an obstruc- tion, the chains became a guide to the channel on either hand. It is now two o'clock in the morning. The mortars for hours had ceased their play. The forts are silent. Nothing is seen buu the lights of the fleet. A red light goes to the truck of the top gallant mizzen-mast of the Hartford, the signal to make sail. The clanking of windlasses only are heard to the music of the boatswain's whistle. In almost the time in which it can be told, the two divisions of the fleet were steadily steaming up the river against a four-knot current at a speed of eight knots. The minutes seemed almost hours before a single gun flashing from Fort Jackson showed that the movement was known. Twenty mortars burst forth together, sending their heavy shells flying through the air in parabolas of nearly two miles, light- ing up the heavens with their blazing fuses, which began to rain down in broken fragments upon the fort. At the same moment the Portsmouth opened upon Fort Jackson with her starboard battery, keeping up a rapid and continuous fire until the last vessel had passed. Fort St. Phillip opened fire upon Bailey's division, followed by all the guns of Fort Jackson opening fire upon Farragut's divi- sion, which he boldly steers within three hundred yards of its walls; and as each ship came within short range, the guns were served with the utmost quickness of fire, so that the booming cannon made one continuous deafening roar; the rolling smoke in the misty night wrapped everything in darkness impenetra- ble, save as the flashes flamed out like lightnings from a low- hanging summer cloud. Eleven shells from the mortar-boats were seen flying high in the air, at one time, thence rolling down a stream of fire and shot upon the ill-fated cannoneers of the fort. Bravely they stand to and serve their guns amid death-shot falling thick and fast on every hand. CAMP AND FIELD. 63 Under the fire of Bailey's division, that of Fort St. Phillip has been nearly silenced, and his division was passing her guns in safety. Protected by casemates, the gunners of Fort Jackson did not give Farragut's division so easy success. The fire of Fort Jackson is incessantly kept up w^ith precision, so that it seemed impossible that the Hartford, a wooden ship, could live while passing through that volcano of fire. Seel The heavens light up with something different from the flashing red of artillery. A new danger threatens the daring F'arragut. A fire-raft comes sweeping along the current at four miles an hour. What is a fire-raft? A flatboat some two hundred feet long by sixty wide, filled high with cotton picked open, saturated with rosin, pitch, and turpentine, intermingled so as to burn the more hotly, and interlaced with cross-piled sticks of light wood, all ablaze, fiercely burning, fanned by the light wind. Such a fire-raft is sent broadside upon the Hartford, so well directed that it engages her bows and the hot flames set flre to her fore-rigging and are burning the foremost sails of the flag-ship. This new enemy is met; and while the crew of the port guns ply their batteries upon the foe, the rest of the men, organized as a fire-brigade, fight the fire on the blaz- ing spars of their ship. Boats are lowered and manned, grap- nels thrown on board the burning raft, which is towed away to float harmlessly down the river, as the Hartford passes up be- yond the range of fire of the forts. Two of the Federal gun- boats only of the whole fleet came drifting down disabled, which told those below that the others had passed the forts in safety. Hardly had the fire been extinguished when a new peril met the Federal fleet. The iron-clad ram Manassas came tearing down from above, forced by current and steam, upon the fleet. She is nearest the steamer Mississippi, for whose side she is mak- ing with her fearful prow. The Yankee commander, Melanc- thon Smith, was equal to the occasion. He calls out: "Flag officer, I can ram as well as she; shall I ram her?" "Go for her," is the answer, and the stem of the Mississippi struck the iron-clad under the full momentum given by her powerful screw; the ram is disabled, and a few shot crash through her armor and set her on fire and she drifts down a useless hulk. But this is but an episode, for there is a fleet of the enemy's gunboats quite equal in number although not the equal in 64 CAMP AND FIELD. strength of the Federal force, lying in wait above the forts to renew the conflict. The fight is of short duration. Thirteen of the enemy's vessels were sunk or disabled, and the others fled up the river to New Orleans. The morning wind sprang up and rolled away the smoke, and as the sun rose up in the heavens the fleet was seen lying at anchor above the forts with flags of rejoicing flying from every mast-head. bright Sabbath morn- ^^ ing in April, that when the devotions of Mr, Davis were hurriedly interrupted at St. Paul's in the doomed city of Richmond, its portent was quickly guessed and whispered from ear to ear, though the regular services were quietly conducted to the close. It was a message from the front sent by Lee, that he could no longer hold the lines, and Richmond must be given up to a now victorious army. That April day will never be forgotten. The end had at last come, and the terror-stricken congrega- tion sadly dispersed to prepare for the last drama of the war. Never was dire confusion worse confounded than when the above tidings spread through that city. A mad, uncontrolled mob completed the horrors by open incendiary acts, so that when the exulting captors reached their prize it was but to see it in flames. That night our men noiselessly and mechanically filed out from the Petersburg trenches, concealing the move- ment by a general firing from the many mortars placed along the thirty miles of works. These queer looking guns had often made night resplendent from the thousand balls that were thrown in artillery duels to conceal some move or to provoke CAMP AND FIELb. 77 some little skirmish. Both parties were well provided with mortars — hundreds of them being distributed along the lines, or, as sometimes, concentrated in great numbers in one place. The trenches around Petersburg were scarcely a mile apart, and frequently they approached within a few hundred yards and were in plain sight of each other, unless the view was ob- structed by timber or undergrowth. Guns fired at an elevation of forty-five degrees appear as though aimed at the empty air, but they were terrifying and destructive to an army unpro- tected from the masses of iron thrown out from their huge mouths. We knew little of these engines of war until both armies settled down in front of Petersburg and began to batter and hammer at each other in regular siege style. At night it was grand to watch these fiery red shells, dart out from be- low the horizon as they began their flight. High and higher up they darted till, reaching their highest elevation, they be- gan their dip to the earth. Down they came whizzing and screaming, their path ablaze; faster and faster, till with a deep hollow thud, they buried themselves deep in the ground, throwing all around a shower of stones, pebbles, and earth. If they exploded in the air, a thousand scintillating lines of fire darted out for a moment and quickly all was dark again; but if the explosion was delayed until it had buried itself in the earth, a terrible upheaval followed, leaving a hole yards across, and men, arms, and all, involved in complete destruc- tion. There can be no more beautiful sight than these shells as they describe their eccentric fiights, passing and re-passing as they rush screaming through the heavens. They seemed like balls of red hot iron hurled by some irate demons! — giants of vengeance engaged in dire confiict. Sometimes these fiery monsters crashed against each other in their flight, and then myriads of bright streaming lines of meteors would dart in every direction. Beautiful as are these sights, they are too dangerous for sport. Mortar duels, strange to say, did comparatively less damage than the ordinary field cannon, especially at night. Then shells could be easily watched, and a little experience soon enabled the men to calculate with great accuracy the place where they would fall. As science and skill add destructive engines of warfare, the instinct of preservation and of defense invents 78 CAMP AND FIELD. better and safer means of protection. It was but a short time before we found that good sound logs, covered with plenty of earth, constituted a safe and reliable protection against such visitors. Holes ten feet deep were dug, over which were placed layers of logs, and these in turn were freely covered with earth. The entrance was made in the side furthest from the enemy. These were the original and true bomb-proofs. When it was seen that a mortar shell would strike near by, the men would scamper into these subterranean vafults and safely await its ex- plosion. We have seen men await outside with no other pur- pose than to secure the fragments of the shell after its explo- sion. Those were hard times for poor Confederates in the trenches, and scrap iron would secure to them what Confeder- ate money had long since failed to do. Just think of paying $1,200 for a barrel of flour, $250 for a pair of shad, $150 for a day's stay at a hotel (you could not well term it board), and $3 per drink for the vilest of whisky, and then to think of paying men $11 of this worthless stuff per month as wages! It may well be asked what did the rebels get to eat? No one save such a soldier and at such a time ever will know. For weeks at a time cold corn bread, prepared from unsound meal, was the best and only ration that was to be depended upon. Rarely was a piece of meat served. The preparation of corn bread was a novel one in the art of cooking. The great aim was to do the whole thing in bulk and with the least trouble possible. The meal was simply mixed with water, a little salt added and the dough baked in pans, say three feet long and half as wide. The long, brown colored cakes, looking much like clay colored flag-stones, were thrown into dirty box cars which had been used indiscriminately for the carrying of all kinds of supplies and also for the transportation of the dead and wounded of the army. Wagons equally unclean hauled these tremendous corn slabs to the men along the lines. By the time it reached them it was the filthiest of food, yet it was eaten to allay hunger. What must have been the determina- tion of such men? On such a diet had they been served for the ordeal awaiting them in the retreat to Appomattox. The route of that retreat was one long struggle for hopeless escape, each part of the way strewn with abandoned wagons, guns, and material of war, and each day signaled by the capture of thousands of prisoners. The wonder was the end had been so long delayed. CAMP AND FIELD. 79 -^SHOT BY A COMRABE.^- HOW A DESPERATELY WOUNDED SOLDIER WAS PUT OUT OF MISERY. ^ •iENRY J. SAVAGE of the Soldiers' Home at INIilwiiukee, Wis., tells the following thrill- ing story : — The writer, a member of Co. G, 1st Del. Infantry, was then attached to the 3d Brigade (Weber's), 3d Division (French's), 2d Corps (Sumner's). Af- ter wading Antietam creek, plunging through ploughed fields, stubble fields, and corn fields, his regiment was finally located within plain view of the enemy, when the welcome command ran along the line to " load and fire at will." It was then that our daily target practice at Fortress Monroe came into excellent use, as many a poor fellow of the 6th Ala. learned to his cost. After going eleven rounds, the writer was wounded and ordered to the rear. While retreating in good order, but making most excellent time, his route led him through a portion of the Irish Brigade. Here he saw a sight that capped the climax of horror. A mem- ber of that brigade was aimlessly stumbling around with both eyes shot out, begging some one, " for the love of God," to put an end to his misery. A lieutenant of the 4th N". Y. was passing by, and seeing the poor fellow's condi- tion and hearing his appeal, he halted before him and asked him if he really meant what he said. " O, yes, comrade," was the reply, " I cainiot possibly live, and my agony is iinendurable." Without another word the officer drew his pistol, placed it to the victim's right ear, turned away his head, and pulled the trigger. A half wheel, a con- vulsive gasp, and one more unfortunate had passed over to the silent majority. " It was better thus," said the lieu- tenant, replacing his pistol and turning toward the writer, " for the j^oor fellow could — " Just then a solid shot took the lieu- tenant's head off, and the "subsequent proceedings interested him no more." OLD WAR IvETTKRS, jlJII^HILE repairing a house in Quit- man, Ga., in 1885, the workmen j,(. found between the ceilings and the J weather boai'ding about a bushel of old letters. They had apparently been mailed during 1860 and 1861, and were never sent away. The house had been used for a post-office in the early years of the war. and these letters, in some unaccountable manner, had slipped between the ceiling and outer wall as stated. Many of the letters were pei'- fectly preserved, while others were rat- eaten and soiled. Curiosity caused the seals of several of these ancient epistles to be opened. Many of them were fi'om girls to their sweethearts in the army ; some from mothers and fathers to their sons ; some from wives to their husbands ; and a few were business letters. None of these letters ever reached those for whom they were in- tended, and a majority of the persons, both writers and those to whom they were written, " have passed over the river." 80 CAMP AND FIELD. OENERAL ORANTT AND THE EICKETTS, (RELATED BY THE GENERAL IN HIS MEMOIRS.) FTER we had secured the open- Lc/I ^'^o ^^ ^ '"^*^ ^^'^^ which to bring ^^^(3 our supplies to the army, I made ^ a pei'sonal inspection to see the situation of the pickets of the two armies. As I have stated, Chattanooga creek comes down the center of the valley to within a mile of Chattanooga, then bears off westerly, then north- westerly, and enters the Tennessee river at the foot of Lookout mountain. This creek, from its mouth up to where it bears off west, lay between the two lines of pickets, and the guards of both armies drew their water from the same stream. As I would be under short- range fire and in an open country, I took nobody with me, except, I believe, a bugler, who staid some distance to the rear. I rode from our right around to our left. When I came to the camp of the picket guard of our side I heard the call, " Turn out the guard for the commanding general." I replied, " Never mind the guard," and they were dismissed and went back to their tents. Just back of these, and about equally distant from the creek, were the guards of the Confederate pickets. The sentinel on their post called out in like manner, " Turn out the guai'd for the commanding general," and, I be- lieve, added, " General Grant." Their line in a moment front-faced to the north, facing me, and gave a salute, which I returned. The most friendly relations seemed to exist between the pickets of the two arniies. At one place there was a tree which had fallen across the stream, and which was used by the soldiers of both armies in drawing water for their camps. General Longstreet's corps was stationed there at the time, and wore blue of a little different shade from our uniform. Seeing a soldier in blue on this log, I rode up to him, commenced conversing with him, and asked whose corps he belonged to. He was very polite, and, touching his hat to me, said he belonged to General Longstreet's corps. I asked him a few questions — ^but not with a view to gaining any particular information — all of which he answered, and I rode off. GENERAL TERRY ATvIONO HIS ERIENDS. ^ §T was just after the surrender of Richmond, and General Terry was I in command of the city. A com- mittee of Hartford gentlemen were visiting the capital of the defunct con- federacy, and passed an evening at headquarters, which were in the noted Jeff Davis house. After the evening had been well spent, a party of half a dozen, who knew the general inti- mately, retired to one of the upper rooms, and General Terry, the mo- ment the door was closed and locked. threw off his coat, stripped off his collar, and in a burst of freedom, exclaimed : " There — I've been General Terry, all dignity and restraint, here in charge of this rebel city, but now, boys, I'm among friends I'm going to have some fun." He sang songs, and danced, and cut up like a boy just out of school. He seemed to enjoy the relief afforded by a respite from the long struggle in the field, and the arduous task in his hands ; but when he was a soldier he was a soldier all over. reRPEDo EXPiesieN. The Terrible Cost of Inexcusable Carelessness. By W. P. DERBY, 27th Mass. UNE 1, 1804, three torpedoes constructed from pork- barrels, containing 200 pounds of powder each were sent by cars to Bachelor's Creek, N. C, in charge of ^ Lieutenant Jones of the 132d N. Y. Regt., to be placed HEN the army reached White House Landing, on its way up the Peninsula, my regiment (the i:3th N. Y. Vols., of Martindale's brigade), 4- with the 5th N. Y. (Duryea's), 1st Conn, heavy artillery (acting as infantry), Rush's Lancers (Gth Penn. cavalry), and Weeden's battery (Co. C. 1st R. I.), was formed into a provisional brigade, under command of Colonel (afterwards General) Warren. We marched to Old Church, on the Pamunkey, near which place we barely missed capturing Lee, and, on the morning of May 27, started for Hanover. It had been raining incessantly for two days, nor did it cease until about 11a. m. The roads were in a fearful condition, and when the clouds rolled away the sun came out so intensely hot that many of the men were nearly prostrated. It was about noon, I should judge, when we heard the sound of artillery ahead, and our march was hastened to the utter- most possible extent. About two o'clock, we reached the field where the action had been fought, and learned that the foe were retreating. We were immediately ordered in pursuit, and passing Dr. Kinney's house, struck the pike leading to- wards Richmond, or Ashland — I forget which. We had gone about two miles, when heavy firing in our rear attracted attention. Presently General Porter came rid- ing from the head of the column, and as he came opposite he CAMP AND FIELD. 83 was met by a staff officer, who informed him that our men who had been left behind on the field were being hard pressed by strong- re-enforcements from Richmond, sent to assist Branch. The 13th N. Y. happened to be the hindmost regiment, and General Porter, turning to Marshall, our colonel, ordered him to reach the scene of action at the earliest possible moment. We did not wait to countermarch, but about-faced, and as soon as we had passed Weeden's battery, started upon the double-quick. By the time we reached Dr. Kinney's I felt like the broadside of a barn with an ache all over it. The knee-high clover, in a large field near Dr. Kinney's, came near finishing all of us. It was wet, and clung to our feet and legs, and it was only by the utmost exertion that we succeeded in " double-quicking."' We were hardly in condition to walk. We passed to the eastward of the mansion, and turned our head of column to the right, in rear of the line formed and forming under Martindale, who as he saw us approaching rode up and assumed command. He ordered us to the extreme left to anticipate a movement of the enemy down the railroad. Again it was "double-quick," until we had reached a piece of timber on a line with the woods occupied by our comrades. There we faced to the right bringing us fronting the railroad and on an alignment with the rest of Martindale's command. We passed into the woods a distance of, perhaps, three hundred yards, and then suddenly emerged in line of battle upon the edge of a field of growing wheat that came nearly to our knees. On the opposite side of this field was a rail fence, parallel to our front, and less than three hundred yards away; upon our right (with an interval of cleared country between), timber, and timber upon our left and left front. Towards our right front, which I judge to have been in a westerly direction, the country was open; and at a distance of from one-half to three- fourths of a mile away stood a house from which floated a yellow flag. It was the Confederate hospital. As we came out into the wheat-field, the sun dazzled our eyes; but we dis- covered a body of men marching by the flank across our front from right to left, behind and partly concealed by the fence in- closing the wheat. We could not exactly make out whether they were friends or foes, and several of us sang out to our own color-bearer: " Shake her out, Jack, shake her out, and let's see who they are." 84 CAMP AND FIET.B. The flag was given to the breeze, and as its folds gently spread, aided by the swaying of the hands that held it, the passing column halted, coming to a front by a "left-face," and, before we had time to think, delivered a tremendous volley full at us. As we saw the movement of leveling tjie muskets every man of us dropped to earth, and the storm of lead passed harmlessly over our heads. Then kneeling, with the visors of our caps pulled low to shut out the glare of the sun, we opened by volley, and kept it up as rapidly as possible. The enemy shot wildly, whereas, judging from the way the splinters flew from the fence and the confusion in their ranks, our Reming- tons were making their position too uncomfortable to hold. After perhaps twenty minutes they began to waver, and we were ordered to charge. Ahead we went, but they did not await our coming. Away they flew to the rear, a majority of them seeking the friendly shadows of the woods adjacent. Reaching the fence we found it nearly dismantled by our fire. Behind it lay numerous dead and wounded, and to our right, hidden from our sight by the woods, we discovered the place where the enemy had evidently been preparing dinner. Fires were burning, cups of water steaming, hard-tack, meal, and bacon lay scattered about, and in one instance a dish of batter, out of which some of us had excellent griddle-cakes that night. Close by, in two long, systematic rows, just as they had been laid down, were the well-filled knapsacks of the 18th and 28th North Carolina, of Branch's division— nearly 1,500 of them. We gobbled them, and fine pickings we had, too. I secured an elegant dress suit, with "biled" shirts, collars, and cuffs, two pairs of silk stockings, and a villainous looking bowie- knife with a blade about eleven inches in length. I do not now remember the loss sustained by my regiment, but it was quite small— our manner of fighting had saved us. From the enemy, in addition to those disabled, we took many prisoners. Three members of my company, who went on a scout after we made camp, brought in thirteen Confederates with their arms and equipments. Besides, we captured their wagon containing hospital, surgical, and medical stores, am- bulances and teams, and when the rest of our brigade joined us we were resting on the field we had won. CAMP AND FIELD. A War Roivlanck. s N 1864 and 1865 the Macon, Ga., City Hall anil the old market Q-:^ house were used as a hospital for ^ wounded and sick Confederate soldiers. The ladies of the town con- stituted themselves nurses, and perhaps in no other hospital in the Confederacy did the patients fare so well. One day a lady went to the hospital to visit " her soldier." She was accompanied by a very handsome married lady, a refugee from New Orleans. When they reached the cot upon which the soldier lay writhing with pain, caused by the recent amputation of his left arm, they ministered to his wants and then sat by and cheered him with gentle words of comfort. As they were leaving the sol- dier requested the Xew Orleans lady to give him a small Confederate flag which she wore upon her breast. She gave him the flag, first writing her name on the white bar. The soldier re- covered, the war ended, and he returned to his home in Alabama. As something not to be forgotten, it should be men- tioned that at the time he was in the hospital he was unmarried, and contin- ued so after the war. In 1885 the sol- dier had occasion to visit New Orleans. He I'emembered the lady that gave him the flag, and made inquiries about her. He discovered that her husband died soon after the war, and that she, a widow, was still living in New Orleans. He called on her, then called again ; in fact he called many times. A few days ago there was a wedding in New Orleans, in which he and the lady fig- ured as principals. •♦ • • » THE BLUE, THE GRAY, AND GRANT. ■^^^HEY sat together side by side, ^^xVlv In the shade of an orange tree ; S^ One had followed the flag of Grant, The other had fought with Lee. " My leader lives " — the boy in blue Spoke low and with a sigh — " But all the country waits in fear That he to-day may die." The boy in blue had an empty sleeve, A crutch had the boy in gray. They talked of the long and dreary march, They talked of the bloody fray. " God bless our Grant ! " the vet'ran said. And dropped a tear, and then In heartfelt tones the answer came, For the rebel said — "Amen ! " " My chief is dead," the Johnny said, " A leader brave was he ; And sheathed fore'er at Lexington Doth hano- the sword of Lee." DRAWING LOTS FOR DEATH. -j-<- APT. HENRY W. SAWYER, of New Jersey, once passed through a very perilous adventure. He was among the Federal prisoners in Libby Prison at the time when the Confederate government determined to retaliate in kind the execution of two rebel officers by one of our Western generals. Mr. Sawyer was at that time a captain in the 1st N. J. cavalry, and was of the grade of officers from whom selections were to be made for the victims to Confed- erate vengeance. The officer who was in charge of the prisoners at that time was a kind- hearted and agree- able man, and was re- garded by them with feelings of gratitude and affection. On the morning in question this officer entered the room where the prisoners were con- fined, and told all the officers to walk out into another room. This order was obeyed with particular alacrity, as the prisoners were daily expecting to be exchanged, and it was supposed that the order had arrived, and that they were about to exchange their prison quarters for home and freedom. After they had all gathered in the room, their counte- nances lighted up with this agreeable hope, the officer came in among them, and with a very grave face took a paper out of his pocket and told them that he had a very melancholy duty to perform, the purport of which would be better understood by the reading of the order he held in his hand, which he had just received from the War Department. He then proceeded to read to the amazed and horrified group an order for the immediate execution of two of their number, in retaliation for the hanging of two Confederate officers. As the reader ceased the men looked at each other with blanched faces and a silence like death prevailed for some minutes in the room. The Confeder- CAMP AND FIELD. 87 ate officer then suggested that perhaps the better way would be to place a number of slips of paper equal to the whole num- ber of officers from whom the victims were to be selected, in a box, with the word "death" written on two of them, and the rest blank — the two who drew the fatal slips to be the doomed men. This plan was adopted, and a chaplain was appointed to prepare the slips. The drawing then commenced, the men advancing and taking out a slip, and, if it proved to be a blank, taking their places in another part of the room. The drawing had proceeded for some time, and fully a third of the officers had exchanged gloomy looks of apprehension for a relieved as- pect they could not avoid showing, after escape from such terrible peril, before a fatal death slip had been drawn. At the end of about this period, however, the first slip was drawn, and the name of "Capt. Henry W. Sawyer of the 1st N. J. Cavalry '' was called out as the unfortunate man. The captain was, of course, deeply agitated, but did not lose his self- possession. He immediately began revolving in his mind some plan for averting, or at least postponing, the immediate carry- ing out of the sanguinary edict of the rebel government, and by the time he was joined by his companion in misfortune, who turned out to be a Captain Flynn of an Indiana regiment, he had resolved upon his course. The officer in command, as soon as the drawing was completed, ordered the two men to be taken out and immediately executed. Captain Sawyer, however, demanded, as a request that no civilized nation could refuse under such circumstances, that he should have permis- sion to write to his wife, to inform her of the terrible fate that awaited him, and to have her come on and bid him an eternal farewell. Respite for a day or two was thus obtained, and Sawyer subsequently obtained an interview with the rebel Secretary of War, and secured permission to write to his wife, which he did. His object in writing to her was principally for our government to be made acquainted with the predicament in which the officers were placed, and to secure hostages and threaten retaliation should the order of the rebels be carried out. It turned out precisely as Sawyer hoped and expected. Our government was informed of the condition of affairs, and proniptly seized a son of General Lee and one of some other prominent rebel, and threatened to hang them if the Union officers were executed. By this means the lives of the two 88 CAMP AND FIELD. doomed men were saved, as the Confederate government did not dare to carry out their threats. After a few months more confinement, Captain Sawyer was exchanged. Captain Flynn, his companion in misfortune, came out of the ordeal with his hair as white as snow; turned gray by the mental sufferings he endured. Captain Sawyer served through the war. GRANT WAS RESPONSIBLE. A Time When Secretary Stanton Wanted to Raise Somebody's Scalp. §RANT had no fear of responsi- bility ; no fear of Secretary Stan- ton. I never knew him to show any fear of anything. In September, 1864, while at Harper's Ferry, returning from a visit to Sheridan, he learned that Wade Hampton had slipped in, in the rear of the left flank of the Army of the Potomac, and carried oft' our entire beef herd — '2600 head ! When Secretary Stanton heard of the loss of the cattle, he wanted somebody's scalp, and telegraphed, " Who is responsible for the loss of the cattle herd?" To which General Grant replied, " I am." There was no " hair raised " that time. For several days afterward the " rebs," with much "mooing" and "lowing," frequently called out, " Hello, Yanks, don't you want some beef ? " While this was going on the " old man " would jokingly say, " I have the best conmiis- sary in the army ; he not only feeds my array, but that of the enemy also." Tt was only a few months after this that he directed the same officer at Appo- mattox to feed General Lee's famishing army. When shortly after this loss Sheridan made a big haul in " the val- ley," Grant felt better. Though the animals were not so large nor in such good condition as ours, they were in such numbers and of such size as to stop Johnny Reb's mouth. A READY ANSWER. GALLANT CONDUCT. fNE day when the traveling was tough, a teamster with broken wagon and mules tangled up, using language he thought hardly equal to his surroundings, was approached by a quiet man who said, "Are you a sol- dier ? " He i"eplied, " No, sir, I am a teamster — by brevet." fl^EXERAL DUANE, at one I time Chief Engineer of the Army of the Potomac, was, perhaps, the only officer who received a brevet for "highly distinguished pro- fessional services." He was also fre- quently breveted for " gallant and meri- torious conduct " in the field. MoTHER^BlCKERDlKE. One of the Grandest Women of the War. By BENJ. WOODWARD, Surg. 22d 111. : v^\x^\v^\v^v\.\^x^^'V.\X\^•v^^ WAS a surgeon in the army and was so situated as to preclude my witnessing many feats of valor in the field, but I can bear testimony to the uncom- plaining endurance of our soldiery in camp and hospital. I came also into constant contact with a group of noble women so heroic, so saint- like, so devoted to the poor sufferers as to raise them to the very pinnacle of woman- hood. I refer to the army nurses as I found them in camp and hospital. At home they were often maligned and de- spised, for it is a sad truth that in the first years of the wai', if a woman gave herself to the nation as a nurse she was looked down upon as one who debased herself. In the army they were accepted as angels of mercy. While I might speak of many of these choice spirits, I choose one as my heroine; a woman rough, uncultivated, even ig- norant, but a diamond in the rough. I knew this woman before the war as well as through it. I refer to Mrs. Bickerdike, known in camp, field, or hospital as Mother Bickerdike. She was a widow before the war, with a family of young children, and so poor that she supported her family by going out as a hired nurse. Let me describe my heroine: A large, heavy woman, about forty-five years of age, strong as a man, muscles of iron, nerves of finest 90 CAMF AND FIKLD. steel — sensitive, but self-reliant, kind and tender, seeking all for others, for herself, nothing. Men of the Army of the Cum- berland, or of the Tennessee, knew her; they remember that old sun-bonnet and the old white mule she rode, and when she rode into our camp or came into the dreaded field hospital, how the shouts went up, '' Hurrah for Mother Bickerdikel '' In the fall of 1861, I was ordered to the charge of the general hospital, at Cairo, 111., a large, three-story brick building, in- tended for a hotel. The walls were rough, unplastered, and the third story had only loose rough boards for a floor. Gath- ered into that place were about 300 sick men — camp diarrhoea, dysentery, typhoid fever, and measles. No ice to be had, the water just out of the foul Mississippi river; no nurses but men from the ranks, all unused to the care of the sick; no changes of underclothes; no convenience for bathing; no nice cooking for the sick. In the midst of such suffering and disorder nothing but the warm heart and willing hand of woman could bring order out of chaos. I went to Major Timmons, the medical director, for aid. He was willing to try a woman, but feared General Grant, who commanded the post, would not consent; but on laying the matter before him and showing how impera- tive was the necessity, he consented, if the right woman could be found. Mrs. Bickerdike was written for, and as the ladies of Galesburg (which was her home and mine) charged them- selves with the care of her children, she came to Cairo, bring- ing with her a good supply of hospital clothing and delicacies for the sick. At first the men ridiculed her, but her cheerful temper took no offense, for she knew she was right; but woe to the man who insulted her. Her first requisition was for bath- ing-tubs; these were made froin half-hogsheads and barrels. She organized the nurses, saw that all the sick were cleaned, and, as far as possible, given clean underclothes. A special diet-kitchen was established, and a great change for the better was soon seen in the patients. As a rule she hated officers, looking on them as natural enemies of the privates. This, no doubt, she got from her husband, who had been a musician in the regular army. " Them pesky ossifers," as she always called them, soon saw her worth and esteemed her, but she would bear no fooling. One day she caught a young lieutenant, who had been sick a few days before but who had now recovered, around with a hos- CAMP AND FIELD. 91 pital shirt on, and to which he had no right. With a few Avithering words she grabbed him and stripped the shirt over his head, and turned him out of the room amidst the laughter of thirty or forty men. As she went with the army to New Madrid, Island No. 10, Fort Pillow, and up to Corinth, every man knew her and always hailed her as Mother Bickerdike; and she was a mother to the men. Grant and Sherman highly esteemed her, and the latter gave her a large white mule, saddle and bridle, and as it was not a side-saddle she had it so altered that she could ride on it. Her pertinacity was such that when, in Southern Tennessee, sanitary goods were needed at the front, but no quartermaster would give her transportation, she, in the night, loaded a car and had it pushed to a train. The quartermaster, seeing Gene- ral Sherman told him what she had done. ''Well," said the general, "she ranks me. You will have to let it go, I guess." So this woman labored, month by month and year by year, till peace came. She had saved a little money, and friends helped her to go to Kansas, and at Abilene, I think it was, the railroad allowed her to build a house as an eating station, giv- ing her the promise of a deed to the land. She did well, but no deed came. A change in the railroad management turned her out, not even paying her for the house. Where she now is, is more than I know, but this I do know, that she is entitled to as good a pension as is the widow of any general. This paper is too long now, or I would like to tell of those ministering angels, Mrs. Wittenmyer, and Mrs. Hays. The latter took care of me like a sister when sick in Camp Big Springs. Of these and many other well known women who gave time and labor for the disabled, much might be said. So, too, of the Sisters of Charity, who worked in hospitals, doing great good. But none of them, so far as came under my ob- servation, followed the men to the field. Such work seemed to be left for the women who came from the homes of the North. But upon all who thus labored, wdiether in hospital, garrison, or field, I believe the Great Master has set his seal, and in the day when lives are accounted for, he will say, "Well done, good and faithful servants: w^liat you did for the least of my friends, ye did it unto me. Take your crown of reward." BATTLE OF FAIR OAKS, And the Behavior of the Eighty- Fifth New York in that Bloody Contest, May 31, 1862. E. B. STILLMAN, 85th N. T. VET. VOLUNTEERS. |^|HE S5th N. Y. Regt, was encamped to the left of the Williamsburg road, and about one hundred yards to the left and rear of the redoubt, and was the support of the bat- tery of Napoleon guns, three of which were in the redoubt and three at the left, a few rods in rear of our rifle-pits, and were attached to Palmer's brigade, Casey's division. We had nearly completed a line of rifle-pits from the redoubt to the left — of sufficient length to cover the regiment. Front of our works and for about four hun- dred yards was a level field covered with green wheat; then came a rail fence and one-fourth of a mile of slashed timber; then the woods, in which our pickets were posted. About noon of the 31st of May, three cannons were fired by the rebels, the shots falling a short distance in the rear of our camp. We fell in and advanced to the rifle-pits. Picket firing soon commenced, and the 103d Pennsylvania was sent out on the Williamsburg road to support the pickets; then the 03d New York was posted along the fence, next to the slashing in our front. In a short time a heavy volley of musketry was heard where the 103d Pennsylvania had gone and in a few minutes the Pennsyl- vanians and pickets came pouring back in a perfect panic. I don't think they stopped till well to the rear of Couch's division, three-quarters of a mile in the rear, no doubt giving rise to the rumor that Casey's men had been "surprised and had retreated in disorder." CAMP ANP FIELD 93 We could see the rebel battle-flags above the slashing as the rebel troops advanced. The battery near the redoubt opened on them, but without effect. They fired wildly, throwing some of their shells into the ranks of the 92d New York, causing their retreat. There was now no force between us and the Con- federates, a brigade strong, who dressed their lines at the edge of the wheat field, and recommenced their advance. Our bat- tery fired one or two rounds of canister and then the men stood not on the order of going, but went as fast as their legs could carry them, leaving cannon, ammunition, horses and all, and the 85th Regt. to hold the position unaided. We had taken position in the rifle-pits — standing in water from ankle to knee-deep. The Johnnies were in good shape, the field-officers, mounted, following close in rear of their line of battle. Our colonel and major had disappeared; our lieuten- ant-colonel was wounded, leaving the command to Capt. W. W. Clarke, of Co. B, who, cool as a cucumber and brave as a lion, ordered us to fire low and take good aim. The rebels ad- vanced slowly, loading and firing as they came, and on tjie green field in our front presented a splendid mark* In a short time our fire had dismounted their officers and was having a ter- rible effect on their ranks. They began to find it very difficult to carry their colors, and when within about one hundred yards of us they began to break up and lie down. In firing at a rest over the wet, soft bank of the pits, our guns had cut a channel that bore directly on the rebels, and with little pains we could make every shot tell. They were in fine range and not firing at us, for it was too hot for human endurance. They soon com- menced running back, and pluckily tried to take their colors and battle-flags, but it was sure death to touch a staff, and they gave it up — leaving every flag on the field and seemingly two- thirds of their number. We remained there over two hours, and no other force ap- peared in our front while we staid in the rifle-pits, but we could see a heavy rebel column just out of range on our left, march- ing with arms at a right shoulder-shift, to take us and our forces in flank. We expected re-enforcements from Couch's division to hold our lines, but none came, and we were ordered out and retreated as far as our camps, and were then ordered back to the rifle-pits again. By this time all the battery horses had been shot down as they stood hitched to the limbers; the rebels 94 CAMP AND FIELD. had broken our lines to our right and were some distance to the rear and right of us. At the same time there appeared to be no end of tlie Johnnies flanking on our left, the head of the column being far to the rear of our line. No re-enforcements coming, we were again ordered to the rear — every man for himself — and that ended the organized fighting of the 8oth for that day. We got back to Couch's line as best we could, but we saw no fighting there except at extremely long range. The writer was near the right of the 10th Massachusetts when they received the heavy fire in flank from the troops that had flanked us out of our position. 'Ke l^tS ^et^^raFi (Sorpg. J. WARD CHILDS. Air — ^^ Joe Bcnvers.'''' % //-J^E brave, immortal vetei-ans, Led on by gallant Sherman, d Penn., Col. J. C. Dodge; and 100th N. Y., Col. J. M. Brown. On the 24th of May General McClellan ordered General Naglee to make a reconnais- sance from the "chimneys" near Bottom's Bridge by way of Williamsburg road, and, if possible, to advance to the Seven Pines, and to hold that point if practicable. Accord- ingly, Naglee's brigade, with the addition of two batteries of the 1st N. Y. Artillery and Gregg's regiment of Penn. cavalry, pushed forw^ard, but not without stubborn re- sistance. They gained a little from day to day. till on the 28th General Casey's division was about one mile beyond Seven Pines on the Williamsburg road. Our right extended to the railroad and beyond, crossing it at right angles between the fifth and sixth mile-post from Richmond. From the left of 96 CAMP AND FIELD, the Williamsburg turnpike to the White Oak Swamp, Naglee's brigade was on the right, Wessel's in the center, and Palmer's on the left. This was the position of the division the day of the commencement of the battle — at least one-half mile nearer Richmond than was again reached during the Peninsular cam- paign. The fight opened on the 31st of May, 12 m. The first notice we had was the explosion of two shells in our camp — evidently their signal to advance. The attack was sudden, but not a surprise, for cars had been running all night on the Rich- mond end of the railroad, and Lieutenant Washington, A. D. C. on General Johnston's staff, had been captured the day be- fore; these, with other suspicious circumstances, kept all, from General Casey down, constantly on the alert. We felt that some one had blundered in placing this small division of less than 5,000 men in such a critical position. It was like a finger thrust forward into the fire to test its endurance. The enemy moved down the Williamsburg turnpike in solid columns, our pickets falling back till within a quarter of a mile from the first line of rifle-pits, where Spratt's battery of four pieces was posted, supported by the 104tli Penn, Vols., 11th Me., 100th N. Y. (of Naglee's brigade), and the 92d N. Y. (of Palmer's brigade). Here some of the hardest fighting ever known took place. General Casey says in his report it was the most terrific fire of musketry that he had ever witnessed. General Naglee says, "The air at this time was literally filled with iron and lead." It was here that the bayonet charge was made by the four reg- iments last mentioned, led by General Naglee; so close were the combatants that Sergeant Potter, of the 104th Penn., was struck on the head by a musket in the hands of a Confederate, and two or three men of the 11th Me. were bayoneted. Receiving no re-enforcements these regiments, with Spratt's battery, retired to the first line of rifle-pits. Here was posted the balance of Casey's 3d and 3d Brigades, and the battle was renewed with great fury; the four batteries of 1st N. Y. Artil- lery, viz., Lieutenant Hart's, Regan's, Spratt's, and Fitch's — per- formed splendid service. At every discharge wide gaps were opened in the enemy's ranks. We could have held them at this placs had it not been for the fact that the enemy had flanked us on the left, and their sharpshooters were picking off our officers and men, and had succeeded in killing three or four CAMP AND FIT^LD. 97 horses attached to every team of the batteries. Here fell many a gallant soldier — Col. G. D. Bailey, 1st N. Y. Artillery, who was shot in the head while attempting to spike some of his guns in the redoubt; Major Van Valkenberg, and Adjutant Hart, of the same regiment; Colonel Brown, 100th N. Y. ; the major, 104th Penn., and Colonel Davis, of the same regiment, with many others severely wounded. Not a field-officer was left of Naglee's brigade. Disputing every inch of ground, we re- treated toward the second line, Regan's battery firing up the Williamsburg turnpike at the advancing enemy, his guns be- ing hauled by prolongs, all his horses having been killed, • It was a close spot for Regan, but he succeeded in saving his bat- te*ry. Here was stationed General Couch's division, and, with the assistance of one brigade from'General Kearney, which had just arrived, an attempt was made to regain the lost ground, but it proved a failure, and the troops, by order of General Heintzelman, retreated to the third line. The 56th N. Y. and 52d Penn., with a detachment of the 11th Me., were on the extreme right of Naglee's brigade, near the railroad, at the commencement of the battle, where they suf- fered heavy loss, their position having been flanked. By an order of General Naglee, what was left of the 56th N. Y. and a detachment of 11th Me. joined the balance of the brigade, near the second line, and fought with them through the re- mainder of the battle. When the order to retreat was given to Colonel Dodge, of the 52d Penn., he begged to be allowed to re- main and fight it out on that line, as he did not wish to fall back, leaving his dead upon the field. For some time after he remained fighting against fearful odds until their retreat was cut off, and they escaped by passing through the wood to the left and rear, where they rejoined their comrades of the 1st Brigade, and retreated with them to the third line, the regiment being reduced to a little over 100 men. Naglee's brigade went into action with eighty-four officers and 1,670 men; of this number thirty-five officers and 603 men were killed, wounded, or taken prisoners. Up to this time, although large re-enforce- ments had arrived, the enemy had not been repulsed. They were first successfully checked by the " White Diamond " boys, under General Hooker, who marched up the Williamsburg road, deploying to the right and left in the field, in advance of us, as coolly as if on parade. They moved into the woods in 98 CAMP AND FIELD. line of battle, driving the enemy before them, and. much to our relief, we saw no more of "Johnny Reb" after that charge. We have thus hastily sketched what came under our own ob- servation — the part taken by General Casey's division, particu- larly Naglee's brigade, in the celebrated battle of Fair Oaks. General Casey was in the thickest of the fight. Hatless, his gray hair exposed to the breeze, it seemed a miracle he wasn't killed. Naglee was struck four times, had one horse killed under him and another wounded. General Wessels was wounded and his horse killed. Some few of the men anticipat- ing, perhaps, McClellan's strategical movement, fell back. It could not be called retreating, but a " change of base," as Mc- Clellan styled the same kind of strategy a week or two after. A HOUSEFUL OF NORTHERN GENERALS. THE SILENT MAN. RELATED BY A VIRGINIA CLERGYMAN. \'^^ Y house was full of Northern I generals one night during ^^^ the Virginia campaign. There was Sheridan, Hum- phreys, Meade, Custer, Ord, and quite a number of others, and they were a lively set and full of fun, with the ex- ception of one ofRoer whom I noticed sitting in a corner smoking, and taking but little part in the sports in which the rest were engaged. They all went out of the house but this solitary, silent man, and as I was going out he asked me where the pump was, as he would like to get a drink. On offering to get him some water, he said : " No, sir, I am a younger man than you, I will go myself," and as I passed out he came up behind me. When in about the middle of the hall my little granddaughter came running toward me, but the silent man, spreading out both arms, caught her, taking her up, fairly smothered with kisses, said : " This reminds me of my little girl at home, and makes me home- sick." In response to the question where is your home, he replied : " Galena, 111., but I have my family at City Point, and am anxious to get back to them." I said, " Will you permit me to ask your name, sir ? " " Certainly, my name is Grant." " Grant," exclaimed I, " Gen- eral Grant ? " and I stood there awe stricken and paralyzed with astonish- ment, while ' my heart went out after this man. I thought to myself, here is a man whose name is now in the mouth of man, woman, and child throughout the civilized world, and yet withal he exhibits no emotion and seems uncon- cerned and unmoved until the little child reminds him of his loved ones at home, and I fairly broke down, as General Grant had been pictured out to us as a bloody butcher, and I had looked for a man looking as savage as a Co- manche Indian. To say that I was agreeably disappointed when I saw Grant but feebly expresses my feel- ings. FEEDING AN ARMT. STARTLING QUANTITIES OF FOOD CONSUMED. HENRY C. DWIGHT, Commissary 2d Div. i8th Corps. IDEA of the quantity of food necessary for the troops in camp and field may interest the friends of the veterans; the veterans them- selves know well what they had and how they got it. As captain of a company the duty was easily attended to. The rations were drawn usually by a sergeant or the company cook of the quartermaster of the regiment, upon requisition of the commanding officer of the company, usually for five days at a time, the variety depending on the point of distribution. Meat, bread, coffee, and sugar were the princi- pal items of the bill of fare, varied with that hated vegetable, rice; beans were always appreciated; potatoes, dessicated veg- etables, split peas and other articles were issued spasmodically. The bread was soft bread or hard bread as most convenient, but hard bread was the great staple. Salt, pepper, vinegar, and candles filled out the bill. RATION ALLOWANCES. The meat ration was varied by giving pork, bacon, or salt or fresh beef. The pork and salt beef were generally good, the bacon and fresh beef fair. The coffee was of superior quality, much better than that sold by grocers generally. The ration was as follows: Twelve ounces of pork or bacon, or twenty ounces of salt or fresh beef, twenty-two ounces of flour or soft bread or sixteen ounces of hard bread per day for each man; and to every one hundred men per day fifteen pounds of beans 100 CAMP AND FIELD. and ten pqunds of rice, eight pounds of ground coffee, or one and one-half pounds of tea, fifteen pounds of sugar, four quarts of vinegar, thirty pounds of potatoes, four pounds of soap, three and three-fourths pounds of salt, one-fourth pound of pepper, one and one-fourth pounds of candle. COOKING THE RATIONS. The cooking of the rations was an item of interest, and growl- ing of the men was sure to follow any shortcoming, and woe betide any cook who disregarded this thermometer of public sentiment. On receiving orders to march with say five days' cooked rations, the meat was prepared, and haversacks filled with meat, bread, coffee, and sugar. The coffee and sugar were mixed together and each man distributed his proportion — so many spoonfuls — which was put into a cloth bag or wrapped in paper, and the men were ready for the trip. In camp the com- pany cook made the coffee, but on the march each man made his own, and they were all experts. Each man, as the halt was called, made a fire and putting the coffee in his cup nearly full of water, waited patiently for it to boil. Hard bread and raw salt pork were not very bad and the appetite made it exceed- ingly good. DUTIES OF A POST COMMISSARY. A post commissary was usually located in the vicinity of any large number of troops; his duties were to issue rations to detached troops who did not belong to any brigade or division, to hospitals, sell stores to officers, etc. This was the best posi- tion in the subsistence department. Officers did not draw rations, but bought their supplies for their mess. Officers cer- tified in writing that the stores wanted were for their own use and cash was paid for each purchase. Every month prices at which sales could be made were given by the chief com- missary. It was quite necessary to have post commissaries as the demand for stores was large and supplies could not be readily obtained elsewhere, except of the sutlers, and govern- ment prices were much less than theirs. THE DIVISION COMMISSARY. The division commissary's position was one of great responsi- bility, but his duties were limited to issuing to the brigade commissaries. H^ issued in original packages, to the brigade CAMP AND FIELD, 101 commissaries, who in turn issued to regiments, batteries, etc., of his brigade, the quartermaster of each regiment issuing to the companies of his regiment. Night and day the mules were hitched to or near the wagons, as the orders might come at any hour to move. This wagon train was quite an army of itself. The great quantity of food that an army required can be imagined from the fact that it took thirty-nine six-mule teams for my own division. There were three divisions in this corps and usually this number in all corps. The wagons had the corps badge on the covers — the first division red, the second white, and the third blue. The wagon train was managed by the head teamster, who was a man of untiring energy and usually of profanity enough for the 200 to 300 mules in his charge. Every wagon had one teamster, and it was marvelous how they could drive in and over roads that surpass any you can conceive of for ine- quality and mud. During August and September, 18G4, the supply of fresh bread was made at Norfolk, Va. , for my divi- sion, brought by steamer up the James and Appomattox rivers to Point of Rocks, Va., or Bermuda Hundred. Fresh bread was issued two days in five, hard bread the other three; but one brigade at a time could be served. This bread was very good and the quantity, one loaf for each man, amply suffi- cient. My colored boy, Joe Gray, was told by his mistress that the Yankees were awful people, had nails in their bread, etc. Joe ran away and came into Washington, N. C. He saw a soldier eating his supper and asked him to give him some bread. The soldier throw him a "hard-tack." Joe bit into it and there was a nail in the first bite. "Aha," says Joe, "the old ooman was right, Yankees have nails in the bread, sure nuf." The hard bread which was packed in boxes of eighty pounds each, had different marks or brands. Some were marked " B. C." The boys said they knew some of it was old, but they could not comprehend why it had been kept so long on hand, and asked for some marked "Anno Domini." My endeavors to feed the troops with the full ration, varied as much as possible. I was ably seconded by those with whom I was associated and the division under my charge were as well fed as any in the army. 102 CAMP AND FIELD. The list given will show what the 3d Div. under my charge had to eat in August, 1864: — Pork, Bacon, Ham, Salt beef, Fresh beef, Flour (soft bread), Dried apples, Coffee, Tea, Brown sugar, White sugar, Vinegar, Salt fish, Candles, Potatoes, Hard bread, Onions, Beets, Beans, Salt, Rice, Whisky, Besides pepper, peas, soap, and other lesser supplies. 448 barrels, 13,109 barrels, 1,434 barrels, 76 barrels, 51,155 pounds, 5"28 barrels, 4,011 pounds, 13,510 pounds, 1,392 pounds, 42,469 pounds, 7,383 pounds, 1,975 gallons, 15,205 pounds, 3,075 pounds, 69,066 pounds, 144,883 pounds, 25,063 pounds, 5,251 pounds, 30,772 pounds, 10,962 pounds, 3,619 pounds, ,4,198 gallons, "Whisky was an extra ration, issued generally day by day as occasion might require, the season of the year and the duty required having more or less to do with it. The ration was one gill per day to each man. The ration of whisky did not always satisfy the wants of some of the boys, and they resorted to many ways to get some. My clerk was frequently offered twenty-five dollars for a can- teen full (about a quart) and in one instance he was offered fifty dollars. All such bids were declined, as it could be sold only to officers who made written requisition for it, certifying it was for their own use. Sometimes the officer's signature was forged, but this was exceptional; I remember but one instance. In this case an officer very pompously made known his griev- ance, and expatiated at length on the lack of intelligence of the commissary. Orders were given to decline any orders with his name attached, and the officer said all right. In a few moments he came back and asked, "What am I to do when I want some myself?" "Go without it," I said. He replied, "Never mind the possibility of orders being forged, go on as you have been doing; I take it all back, I want some my- CAMP AND FIELD. 103 self." One man having indulged too freely in whisky was reprimanded and he said, •' You must not expect all the moral virtues for sixteen dollars a month.*' The Sanitary Commission had its representative about the several hospitals to see about the distribution of the supplies so generously sent to the soldiers and the boys invented many ex- cuses to get hold of the good things. These representatives, however, were wide-awake and seldom failed to understand the tricks. One day, three officers, being "dry as a fish," thought well of applying to the Sanitary Commission for some stores. They deputized one of their servants to wait upon Sanitary and present their claim. This duty fell upon "Tip," who at once went and made known his wants. Sanitary said, " What do you want?" Tip was rather taken back by so direct an inquiry and looking around saw so much stuff he could hardly fix upon any article, but finally said, " Canned peaches." "What is the matter with your sick friend," said Sanitary. "Chronic diarrhoea," said Tip. "Chronic diarrhoea! " said Sani- tary; "canned peaches are the worst thing he could have." Tip went out and returned to his comrades, telling them of his failure. Their actions were clouded by words we Avill not repeat. Thus the veteran of 18G1 to 18G5 fared for food. There were no luxuries, but there was little grumbling on that account. The articles furnished were as a rule the best to be obtained. Brave old souls! they fought well, and nobly did they win. Many are still with us to-day. In every town, city, and village they live. They walk your streets and visit your homes. Be- neath a plain exterior and a figure perhaps poorly or plainly clad, there beats the heart of as brave a soldier as the world ever knew; and though perhaps it may be only a private, cor- poral, or sergeant, yet he did his part, he fought the fight as well as any one ever did or could — and that is enough for any man. GAINES' MILL POPULAR GOVERNMENT. The battle of Gaines' Mill was the The test of popular government on beginning of the disasters of the army trial, which was applied to us at the tinder McClellan, and it raised the only time of the Presidential election of formidable siege made to Richmond 1864, was such as had never before been during the war. applied to any nation on earth. 104 CAMP AND FIELD. MOSES G. OWEN, BATH, ME. OTIIING but flags — but simple Nothing but flags — yet they're bathed flags, in tears ; Tattered and torn and hanging They tell of triumphs, of hopes, of in rags ; fears ; And we walk beneath them with care- Of a mother's prayers, of a boy away ; less tread. Of a serpent crushed, of the coming Nor think of the hosts of the mighty day ! • dead Silent they speak, yet the tears will Who have marched beneath them in start days gone by As we stand beneath them with throb- With a burning cheek and a kindling bing heart, eye. And think of those who are ne'er forgot ; And have bathed their folds in their Their flags come home — why eome they young life's tide, not ? And dying blessed them, and blessing died. Nothing but flags — yet we hold our Nothing but flags— yet methinks at night breath They tell each other their tales of fright ; And gaze with awe at those types of And dim specters come, and their thin death. arms twine . Nothing but flags, yet the thought will Roiuid each standard torn as they stand come, in line. The heart must pray, though the lips And the word is given, — they charge ! be dumb I they form ! They are sacred, pure, and we see no And the dim hall rings with the battle stain storm. On those dear loved flags, come home And once again through the smoke and again ; strife Baptized in blood, our purest, best, Those colors lead to a Nation's life. Tattered and torn, they're now at rest. A Shot Fired at the Wrong Time. NOBOBY DIB IT. FIRST INTRODUCTION TO GENERAL SHERMAN. By GEN. GEO. E. IVtcGINNIS. BOUT eight o'clock a. m., April 8, 1862, the morning after the second day's fight at Shiloh, while quietly seated at my head- quarters, which was the butt end of a tree, close to the road and about three hundred yards in advance of Shiloh meeting house, my attention was attracted by a solitary horseman com- ing in my direction. He was dressed in citizens' clothes which would not improperly have been called " misfit.*' He was lean and lank, with sandy complexion, hair, and beard, the latter looking as though it had not been cut for a week or ten days. I concluded from his general appearance that he was an honest old farmer who had a son in the army, and, being anxious about him, had left home, without preparation, as soon as he got news of the battle, to look after and care for that son in case he should find him killed or wounded. As soon as my supposed farmer came within speaking distance, the following conversa- tion took place: — I — " Good morning, sir." He — " Good morning. What regiment is this?" J— ''The 11th Indiana, sir." He—'' Who is the colonel? " J—" McGinnis." ife—" Where is McGinnis?" I — " I'm the man, sir." He — (Looking at me with astonishment, and apparently amazed that such a looking chap as I was should be intrusted 106 CAMP AND FIELD. with the command of a regiment of men) " I am General Sher- man." I — (My turn to be astonished, and for the moment dum- founded, and without thinking of the enormity of the offense) " The — (revised edition) you are!" He — (Seeing the point, and taking in the situation, smihngly) "Yes." There had been an alarm in camp that morning; the men on picket duty had deserted their posts and came tearing through our quarters as though the rebel army was at their heels. I succeeded in persuading a big lieutenant to stop long enough to tell me that they had been driven in by the rebels. I couldn't get another word. He was the worst scared man I ever saw. There was not a word of truth in his story, as the rebel army was miles away, making the best of their way to Corinth. The alarm was caused by several of our regiments discharging their pieces. This was done without authority and without notice to any one, and for a few minutes led many to believe that another battle was on. This affair riled General Sherman ter- ribly. He put on his war paint and started out to give orders in person. After the above introduction, the general asked in- formation in relation to any disturbance in our front, and re- ceived all I could give him. He then delivered a short oration, and closed with an order to arrest any man who was caught in the act of firing a gun or pistol. Send him under guard to his headquarters, and he would have him shot, I assured General Sherman his order should be obeyed. He was assured that no man in the 11th Regt. had discharged a gun that mornings and that all the men were then engaged in cleaning their arms. The general, satisfied that his orders would be obeyed, with a pleasant good morning, passed on up the road, and I reoccupied my headquarters. A message was immediately sent to com- pany officers to caution their men in regard to firing, and in- forming them of Sherman's orders. Sherman had certainly not gone more than one hundred yards, when " bang" went a musket right on the left of my regiment. I knew it was in Company K. I looked up the road, saw Sherman stop and look back; jumped to my feet and started toward the left, just as Sherman turned his horse to come back. I got to K quarters but a minute after my message had been delivered, and asked, " Who fired that gun? " The answer came back from a dozen CAMP AND FIELD. 107 throats, "It was over in that regiment on the left, colonel." O, but the private soldiers were sharp. Said I, "Are you sure it was not fired by a Company K man?" Every man was sure. Said I: " There is General Sherman ready to have the man who fired that gun shot, if he can be found. Are you still sure as to where that shot was fired?" Every man was willing to swear and stick to it that the shot was fired by the regiment on our left, and they were so earnest about it that I wanted to believe them. In fact, I was so anxious and determined to save my boys from being shot, that I did believe them, and reported to Sher- man, who was waiting for me, that I had thought at first the shot was fired in my regiment, but after a hasty investigation I was fully satisfied that it was in the next regiment beyond, and doubtless accidental. He looked a little queer, asked some very direct questions, acted as though he didn't believe me any more than I believed the boys, and with the caution, " Tell the boys to be careful or somebody will get hurt," rode away. This was my first introduction to General Sherman. A SUROICAIv WONDKR. By DR. HUNTER McGUIRE, Chief Surgeon on "Stonewall" Jackson's Staff. THE ONLY MAN ON RECORD WHO HAS SEEN HIS OWN LIVER. AFTER one of the battles in the want is for some one to do something valley of Virginia I was riding for me." /^ along a dusty road one hot day Although the ca.se appeared a hope- l when I saw a Confederate officer less one, I procured a tub of water \ lying upon the ground desperately and washed the wound, then handed ) wounded. Upon an examination I him a mirror and in it he saw reflected discovered that he had received a his own liver. Upon an examina- wound in the abdomen. His intestines tion, I discovered that the walls of were protruding several inches, and the stomach had not been injured, covered with du.st. I expres.sed my The wound was sewed up and the regret at being unable to do anything officer rapidly recovered. The case is for the sufferer. He was in good spirits, one of the most remarkable ones that and replied : " Two or three other doc- have ever come to the knowledge of the tors have said the same thing. What I medical profession. "Johnny Shiloh." (JOHN L. CLEN4.) ige: ®r?ammer B©^ ©f (2BieS(amQMg0. WONDERFUL CAREER OF A TEN-YEAR OLD BOY. «?•- '^i^-xV^^S'T'^!^^-- ••-,»»- • IHIS lad went into the Being refused as a train which carried front, determined to possible, but to go anyhow, the 22d Mich., but thougli for his indomitable spirit he that organization. Young- duties and movements of he gained the goal of his listed as a drummer. This the battle of Shiloh. of eleven years covered || He went in as a volun deadly shower of shot| himself a man. With swinging between his marched up the bloody beating the charge paid to beat. The by an exploding shell, then felled to earth by trudged along, advanc- the command with- army in '61, a boy of ten. drummer, he boarded the the 3d Ohio Regt. to the go as an enlisted man if He next offered himself to refused, out of admiration was permitted to accompany Clem participated in the this regiment until 'G3, when ambition by being duly en- was not, however, until after In that fight this boy his name with glory, teer and under the and shell he bore a regulation drum youthful legs he hill from the river that others were drum was smashed but the boy, now and the falling branches ing and receding, as stood or wavered un- der the scorching fire of the rebels. That this fire was deadly was evidenced by the corpses so thickly strewn that one could - -< ^V cs— I |HE Federals fought with wonderful bravery and the Confederates clung to their ground with heroic courage as, hour after hour, they were mown down like grass. The fresh troops of McClellan literally tore into shreds the already ragged army of Lee, but the Confederates never gave back. I remember at one time they were surging up against us with fearful numbers. I was occupying the left over by Hood, whose ammunition gave out. He retired to get a fresh supply. Soon after, the Federals moved up against us in great masses. We were under the crest of a hill, occupying a position that ought to have been held by from four to six brigades. The only troops there were Cooke's regiment of North Carolina In- fantry, without a cartridge. As I rode along the line with my staff, I saw two pieces of the Washington Artillery (Miller's Battery), but there were not enough men to man them. The gunners had been either killed or wounded. This was a fear- ful situation for the Confederate center. I put my staff-officers to the guns while I held their horses. It was easy to see that if the Federals broke through our line there, the Confederate army would be cut in two and probably destroyed, for we were already badly whipped and were only holding our ground from sheer desperation. Cooke sent me word that his ammunition was out. I replied that he must hold his position as long as he had a man left. He responded that he would show his colors as long as there was a man alive to hold them up. We loaded up our little guns with canister and sent a rattle of hail into the Federals as they came up over the crest of the hill. 112 CAMP AND FIELD. There was more business to the square inch in that little bat- tery than in any I ever saw, and it shot harder and faster and with a sort of human energy as it seemed to realize that it was to hold the thousands of Federals at bay or the battle was lost. So warm was the reception we gave them that they dodged back behind the crest of the hill. V7e sought to make them be- lieve we had many batteries before them instead of only two little guns. As the Federals would come up they would see the colors of the North Carolina regiment waving placidly, and then would receive a shower of canister. We made it lively while it lasted. In the mean time General Chilton, General Lee's chief of staff, made his way to me and asked, "Where are the troops you are holding your line with?" I pointed to my two pieces and to Cooke's regiment, and replied, ''There they are; but that regiment hasn't a cartridge." Chilton's eyes popped as though they would come out of his head, he struck spurs to his horse and away he went to General Lee. I suppose he made some remarkable report, although I did not see General Lee again until night. Sheridan's Kox Hunt. ADAM BADEAU. URING the winter General Sher- hounds. A pack of hounds was found idan remained near Winchester, and a day set for the chase. The but as soon as the roads and the hounds were brought into Winchester, rains ' allowed. Grant directed the horses were shod, and all the talk M him to push once more up the val- of the country around was of Slieri- (S ley — this time not to return. He dan's hunt. On the appointed day the was to advance in the direction of whole neighborhood came to the meet- Richmond, destroying the railroads in the general and his staff conspicuous- every direction, as well as all stores The start was made and the run was that could possibly be of use 1;o the good, but the general and staff went enemy. In order to conceal his pur- further than the Virginians, and the pose, Sheridan resorted to one of those army followed. They rode after the ingenious devices in which he was un- enemy and never returned. The strat- rivaled since the days of Hannibal, agem had kept all the news of He learned ' that the people of the Sheridan's intentions secret, as all his neighborhood were fond of hunting, preparations were attributed to the and encouraged his staff to make their hunt, and he was far on his way before acquaintance and talk of foxes and the wile was discovered. 1-4. ■VU, The Battle of Antietam. iae2. The Fearless Hooker.— Buruside and tlie 9th Corps Immortalized.— Sumner luviucible.— McClellau Hesitates. By REV. THEO. GERRISH, SOth Maine. "" ' jjrPON the morning of September 17, 1862, the 1^ rebels before Antietam had brilliant expec- tations. The delay of our commanding gene- ral in not pressing battle has enabled General Lee to add the victorious column of Jackson and Lawton, from Harper's Ferry to his army, so that he confronted the Union forces with 100,000 men. His left wing is commanded by Jackson, his right by Longstreet, and his center by A. P. Hill. He has position in his favor, for, to reach them, the Union army under McClellan must cross the deep Antietam creek and storm the heights beyond. There are no means of crossing possible save by three bridges, which are heavily enfiladed by rebel artillery and infantry. General Hooker had carried the upper bridge near Hagerstown the afternoon before, and now after sleeping on his arms his gal- lant men with moving column and waving banners early open the fray. Two batteries supported by strong lines of infantry, advance from the woods into the cornfield, and the enemy at- tempt to seize the guns. It is a bloody reception. Back and forth the lines advance and recede; first one and then the other, victor. Whole lines melt away in the terrible carnage. A full hour the conflict rages, and then the rebel lines fall back amid the cheer of Union troops. Stonewall Jackson has found in Joe Hooker his match for desperate daring. Hooker's tall form, mounted upon his gray steed, had been for an hour in the thickest of the fight. General Meade's Penn. Reserves now move forward to follow up the advantage. They charge across 114 CAMP AND FIELD. the field, slippery with blood, to the woods where the rebels had disappeared. Great God, what a reception! The forest seemed to yawn and vomit forth a volcano of leaden fire; they reel and stagger under that fearful tempest. Brigades are reduced to regiments in a moment, and soon the re-enforced enemy charge back and hurl Meade from the field. It is a critical moment; a staff officer dashes to Doubleday with the order, " Send me your best brigade instantly," and Hartsuff's brigade, composed mostly of Massachusetts troops, double quick to the field, and in a wild and fearless manner charge upon the exultant foe. They struck the rebel line, seemingly five-fold stronger than they, with terrific force and it recoiled before them. They threw themselves upon the ground and for thirty minutes held the rebels at bay; then with exhausted ammunition. Hartsuff's line springs to its feet and rolls the enemy back to the woods from which they had assaulted the column of General Meade. 'Tis now 10 A. M., and, with four hours of carnage, no advan- tage has been gained by either side. Hooker's entire command is now moving for a grand and desperate effort. Hooker is at the front! Regiments, brigades, and divisions swing into line at the double quick. The hillside flames with fire. A terrific roar fills the air. Clouds of sulphurous smoke cover the scene and the ground shakes as with the agony of a great struggle. Hooker is wounded and borne from the field, and the enemy, re-enforced from the center, is crowding hard. General Sumner at an op- portune moment assumes command, and in the thickest of the fight leads bravely on. The enemy meets shock after shock with invincible daring and soon the wavering Union lines give up the field. It is now past noon, and while Sumner is invincible to attack his force is too much reduced for assault. Just then the welcome sight of troops moving from the Hagerstown bridge greets the commander's eye, and a few moments later General Franklin's corps is there to his support. Smith's Maine and Vermont brigade retake the ground and like a holocaust sweep everything from the field and the woods before them. It is done and well done; a glorious victory, in which all must share. Down on the left the gallant Burnside had been doing noble work also. The 9th Corps had slept on the ridge overlooking the stone bridge, and at 9 a. m., Burnside in person led the as- sault. It was fearful. They reached the bridge amidst hun- dreds of bursting shells, while 20,000 muskets poured in their CAMP AND FIELD, 115 fire of death. They cross; deploy; form line of battle; dash up the hill; retreat, surge back and forth; join in a hand to hand conflict, and though the enemy have all the advantage, his first line is at length carried at the point of the bayonet. There is another terrific struggle; another death embrace, and at length another tumultuous yell rolls up the line and tells that Burnside's men have carried the heights. Again bursts forth a terrific fire at the right, but it soon dies out before the victorious Union host; but the lifeless form of the brave Mansfield is carried to the rear. Lee seeing his right to be the point of greatest danger, orders A. P. Hill there; but he arrives too late to save Longstreet from defeat. That position must be regained at any cost is the word from Lee. Burnside sees the gathering host, and a foaming steed dashes to McClellan with the word, " send me men and guns, and I will sweep all before me, but I cannot hold this position without re-enforcements." Fitz John Porter, with 20,000 men who as yet have only smelt the pow- der, stands ready for the order. To give it means the over- throw of Longstreet and Hill; the seizure of the Potomac fords, and the capture of Lee's army. McClellan hesitates. Oh, for one hour of Grant or the dashing Phil Sheridan! Rise, Mc- Clellan, to the greatness of your opportunity, and hurl the traitor army to the wall. Alas! too timid, and too weak! The word goes back, "Tell Burnside to hold on; it is the greatest battle of the war; I have no infantry to send; if he is driven back, he must hold the bridge, for if we lose that we lose all. 'Tis a fatal mistake. Burnside is overpowered and slowly but obstinately relinquishes the field. He holds the bridge and darkness ends the conflict. Lee sees the handwriting upon the wall; and what he cannot gain by fighting, he gains by cunning. An armistice must be had to bury the dead, and while this progresses the defeated rebel army skulks away and gain the fords of the Potomac, and the Union army curses the powers that be which after a sacrifice of 2,010 killed, and 9,416 wounded, robs them of the blood bought fruits of their victory. Lee Troubled by Meade.— General Cheapest Victory.— The cheapest Lee said that General Meade had given victory ever won on the battle field him as much or more trouble than any was the battle of Darbeytown Road, other general. Oct. 7, 1864. i The Artillery Duel at Antietam. SEPT. 17, 1862. H. H. BOWLES, CO. C, 6th IVIaine. ^^t<^^ NE of the most fearful artillery duels at short range that I ever witnessed occurred at the immediate right of the cornfield at Antietam on the morning of September 17, 18G2. In that giant struggle for the mastery on that fearful field in the long ago, when division after division of the Union army was swept away in rapid suc- cession by fighting at close quarters, when charge was met by counter charge, where Mansfield, Hooker, and Richardson were killed or wounded ere the sun had scarce risen, and Sedgwick's division in turn was sent hustling back in wild disorder, — it was just at this time that our brigade (Hancock's) came in on the double quick, meeting Sedgwick's division falling back. We were composed of the 6th Me., 5th Wis., 43d N. Y., and 49th Penn. It was a fearfully hot day, and we had been running all the morning to get on the field, and as we came up upon the double quick through a piece of timber, to the east of the cornfield, by the right flank, we saw abundant evidence of the rout or disaster of Sedgwick's division. The woods and fields were full of stragglers and wounded men. Cannon shot and shell were flying in all directions. It seemed as though the air was alive with missiles of destruction. Gen- eral Sumner came riding up, bare-headed, his long, white hair streaming in the wind, his tall form erect, and gave some orders in a clear, distinct voice. Our brigade formed quickly into line and advanced to the edge of the cornfield and lay down, where the ground fell off considerably, so that we were partially covered, expecting every moment to be ordered to charge. As we came out of the field we passed Captain Frank's N. Y. battery on our immediate right in position, and " bellow- CAMP AND FIELD, 117 ing like mad." They were five-inch Napoleon guns. The can- noneers, many of them, were working with their sleeves rolled up, and some of them bare to the skin to their waist, and were black and grim with powder and smoke. The guns were vom- iting forth grape and canister, double shotted at every dis- charge, and fairly leaped from their position at every shot. They were making a perfect hell of every inch of ground in front and on either flank. I never witnessed such rapid firing or saw guns worked as they were. Captain Frank was riding back and forth calling for supports for his battery, for, as we came up, his battery was wholly unsupported. In our immedi- ate front the ground was literally covered with dead and dying. The gray coats of the Confederates were thickly mingled with the blue of the Union dead. The green coats of the U. S. sharp- shooters and the red trousers and embroidered jackets of the 14th Brooklyn lay thickly among the corn hills, and along by the rail fence were whole windrows of dead of both blue and gray. The sunken road was filled with dead and dying. Way over by the edge of the field nearest the Union lines, by the east wood, lay the body of a rebel colonel shot all to pieces. The rebel sharpshooters were posted in the tree-tops in the west woods, and were picking off our men one by one. Little Charlie King — a bright eyed, dark-haired drummer boy of the 49th Penn., about twelve years of age, and the favorite of his regiment — was standing behind me, when a minie ball pierced his breast and he fell into my arms calling the name of his mother. The wound did not cause death at the time so we took him to the rear and gave him in charge of the surgeon. But we could not wait and leaving him in gentle hands we hurried back to the front with our comrades. The deep boom- ing of cannon went on, and hilltop answered hilltop with thunder, flame, and smoke. As I watched the working of these batteries, the rapid firing, the wonderful precision of their shots. I could but think of Marshal Ney at Waterloo, when assault- ing the English squares, struck with admiration for the English batteries in his front, he paused and gave them the military salute. The day wore on and gradually the firing ceased as by mutual consent, and the enemy were again compelled to retreat into Virginia and to their old lines across the Rappahan- nock. Night on the Field of Fredericksburg. GEN. J. L. CHAMBERLAIN, LL. D., Ex-President Bowdoiii College, Me. NWARD time moves. Many years have passed since " Fredericksburg," Of what then was not much is left but memory. Faces and forms of men and things that then were have changed — perchance to dust. New life has covered some; the rest look but lin- gering farewells. But, whatever changes may beautify those storm-swept and barren slopes, there is one character from which they can never pass. Death-gardens, haunted by glorious ghosts, they must abide. No bloom can there unfold which does not wear the rich token of the inheritance of heroic blood; no breeze be wafted that does not bear the breath of the immortal life there breathed away. Of all that splendid but unavailing valor no one has told the story; nor can I. The pen has no wing to follow where that sacrifice and devotion sped their flight. But memory may rest down on some night-scenes, too quiet and somber with shadow to be vividly depicted, and yet which have their interest from very contrast with the tangled and lurid lights of battle. The desperate charge was over. We had not reached the enemy's fortifications, but only that fatal crest where we had seen five lines of battle mount but to be cut to earth as by a sword-swoop of fire. We had that costly honor which some- times falls to the " reserve " — to go in when all is havoc and confusion, through storm and slaughter, to cover the broken and depleted ranks of comrades and take the battle from their hands. Thus we had replaced the gallant few still struggling CAMP AND FIELD. 119 on the crest, and received that withering fire, which nothing could withstand, by throwing ourselves flat in a slight hollow of the ground, within pistol shot of the enemy's works; and, mingled with the dead and dying that strewed the field, we re- turned the fire till it reddened into night, and at last fell away through darkness into silence. But out of that silence from the battle's crash and roar rose new sounds more appalling still; rose or fell, you knew not which, or whether from the earth or air; a strange ventrilo- quism, of which you could not locate the source, a smothered moan that seemed to come from distances beyond reach of the natural sense, a wail so far and deep and wide, as if a thousand discords were flowing together into a key-note weird, unearthly, terrible to hear and bear, yet startling with its nearness; the writhing concord broken by cries for help, pierced by shrieks of paroxysm; some begging for a drop of water; some calling on God for pity; and some on friendly hands to finish what the enemy had so horribly begun; some with delirious, dreamy voices murmuring loved names, as if the dearest were bending over them; some gathering their last strength to fire a musket to call attention to them where they lay helpless and deserted: and underneath, all the time, that deep bass note from closed lips too hopeless or too heroic to articulate their agony. Who could sleep, or who would? Our position was isolated and exposed. Officers must be on the alert with their com- mand. But the human took the mastery of the official; sym- pathy of soldiership. Command could be devolved; but pity, not. So with a staff officer I sallied forth to see what we could do where the helpers seemed so few. Taking some observa- tions in order not to lose the bearing of our own position, we guided our steps by the most piteous of the cries. Our part was but little; to relieve a painful posture; to give a cooling draught to fevered lips; to compress a severed artery, as we had learned to do, though in bungling fashion; to apply a rude bandage, which yet might prolong the life to saving; to take a token or farewell message for some stricken home; it was but little, yet it was an endless task. We had moved towards the right and rear of our own position — the part of the field immediately above the city. The farther we went the more the need deepened, and the calls multiplied. Numbers half wakening from the lethargy of death, or of despair, by sounds of succor, 120 CAMP AND FIELD. begged us to take them quickly to a surgeon; and when we could not do that, imploring us to do the next most merciful service and give them quick dispatch out of their misery. Right glad were we when, after midnight, the shadowy ambu- lances came gliding along, and the kindly hospital stewards, with stretchers and soothing appliances, let us feel that we might return to our proper duty. And now we were aware of other figures wandering, ghost- like, over the field. Some on errands like our own, drawn by compelling appeals; some seeking a lost comrade, with uncer- tain steps amidst the unknown, and ever and anon bending down to scan the pale visage closer, or, it may be, by the light of a brief match, whose blue, flickering flame scarcely can give the features a more recognizable or more human look; some man, desperately wounded, yet seeking, with faltering step, before his fast ebbing blood shall have left him too weak to move, some quiet or sheltered spot out of sound of the terrible appeals he could neither answer nor endure, or out of reach of the raging battle coming with the morning; one creeping, yet scarcely moving, from one lifeless form to another, if, per- chance, he might find a swallow of water in the canteen still swung from the dead soldier's side; or another, as with just re- turning or just remaining consciousness, vainly striving to rise from a mangled heap, that he may not be buried with them while yet alive; or some man, yet sound of body, but pacing feverishly his ground because in such a bivouac his spirit could not sleep. And so we picked our way back, amidst the stark, upturned faces, to our little living line. The night chill had now woven a misty veil over the field. Fortunately, a picket fence we had encountered in our charge from the town had compelled us to abandon our horses, and so had saved our lives on the crest; but our overcoats had been strapped to the saddles, and we missed them now. Most of the men, however, had their overcoats or blankets — we were glad of that. Except the few sentries along the front, the men had fallen asleep — the living with the dead. At last, outwearied and depressed with the desolate scene, my own strength sunk, and I moved two dead men a little and lay down between them, making a pillow of the breast of a third. The skirt of his over- coat drawn over my face helped also to shield me from the bleak winds. There was some comfort even in this companion- CAMP AND FIELD, 121 ship. But it was broken sleep. The deepening chill drove many forth to take the garments of those who could no longer need them, that they might keep themselves alive. More than once I was startled from my unrest by some one turning back the coat-skirt from my face, peering, half vampire-like, to my fancy, through the darkness, to discover if it too were of the silent and unresisting; turning away more disconcerted at my living word than if a voice had spoken from the dead. Having held our places all the night, we had to keep to them all the more closely the next day, for it would be certain death to attempt to move away. As it was, it was only by making breastworks and barricades of the dead men that covered the field that we saved any alive. We did what we could to take a record of these men. A testament that had fallen from the breast pocket of the soldier who had been my pillow, I sent soon after to his home — he was not of my command — and it proved to be the only clue his parents ever had to his fate. The next midnight, after thirty-six hours of this harrowing work, we were bidden to withdraw into the town for refresh- ment and rest. But neither rest nor motion was to be thought of till we had paid fitting honor to our dead. We laid them on the spot which they had won, on the sheltered edge of the crest, and committed their noble forms to the earth, and their story to their country's keeping. We buried them darkly, at dead of night. The sod with our bayonets turning. Splinters of boards torn by shot and shell from the fences we had crossed served as headstones, each name hurriedly carved under brief match lights, anxiously hidden from the foe. It was a strange scene around that silent and shadowy sepulture. '' We will give them a starlight burial," it was said; but heaven ordained a more sublime illumination. As we bore them in dark and sad procession, their own loved North took up the escort, and lifting all her glorious lights led the triumphal march over the bridge that spans the worlds — an aurora borealis of marvelous majesty! fiery lances and banners of blood and flame, columns of pearly light, garlands and wreaths of gold, all pointing upward and beckoning on. Who would not pass on as they did, dead for their country's life, and lighted to burial by the meteor splendors of their native sky? The * Last * Night « at * Frederlchhurg. GEN. J. L. CHAMBERLAIN, LL. D., EX.-PRES. BOWDOIN COLLEGE. .►^-x->5 :-<-)t-t:$<- ,FTER a day of what was 'tf*^. called rest from the stress of battle, but really of confusion and solicitude, a broken bivouac on the pave- ment in the town, amidst the enemy's shells crashing through the roofs and walls, by turns dreaming or wakefully expecting that Lee would take advantage of our situation to strike our right flank and drive us into the river, we had man- aged at dark to sink into a dismal sort of sleep. But suddenly we were sum- moned — three regiments — to move forth to some unknown service. Picking our way amidst the terrible relics of the battle up to that fatal front again, we found here, mingled with the thick-strewn dead, and scarcely to be distin- guished from them, a thin line of our troops, lying flat on their faces and fairly shivering with apprehension. And with reason. For it was not sol- dierly qualities alone that were tj^=-^^"^~ -= =^'^i^-i=. tested by that experience. So far out beyond support, with only the ghastly lines of the dead behind, and the half- disembodied horrors around, scarcely more than a hundred yards from the enemy's fortifi- cations, the rifle-pits of their picket - line close in front, strange, stealthy movements heard at intervals, then lost in dismal gusts of wind, and the murky darkness wrapping all as with a shroud, a sense of strange defenselessness might naturally seize the mind, a feeling of lurking evil against CAMP AND FIELD. 123 which all mortal weapons are vain. To be creeping about amidst these emblems of the satanic power to hurt, sure only that every living human being before you and perhaps around you is an enemy whose one object it is to compass your destruction — this is a situation and a business wherein the man of stoutest physical courage and the soldier of highest discipline may find that he has something of himself yet to learn. We knew now that our business was to picket the front above the town. Of the rest we knew nothing. The troops whom we relieved informed us with the extreme of frankness that just after dusk a whole brigade of ours had been " rushed off " from that spot, and the enemy had planted a battery so as to enfilade the position and sweep away the whole line at the first dawn; and also had been pushing up their picket-line and rifle- pits all the night close upon our own. Our friends bade us a significant good-by — a curious' mingling of emotion, half glad for themselves, half sad for us — and filed away silently down the slope. " Hold this ground at all hazards, and to the very last." This was the only order or instruction we received. It was a long stretch for us, and the men had to be stationed by the rule of few and far between. Groping cautiously about, we got hold of some picks and spades that were scattered around, and each man went to work with a will to settle himself into the ground; that seemed about the surest way to "hold it." Each few or each alone threw up a little earthwork covering their front and right, as a man would protect his head from a blow by raising his right elbow. It was the right especially that must be made strong, to guard against the expected shelling from that quar- ter, so that a shot striking in the line would not be likely to kill more than the men in any one pit. We worked in silence, speaking only in whisper, and with the least possible movement that might expose the person in relief against the sky, for, dark as it was, such a disclosure was sure to bring a shot. Often we were interrupted by vague alarms; the men would drop their spades, seize their muskets and sink on their knees, ready for the conjectured blow. We were anxious that the men should keep their true bear- ings, so as to throw the earth on the angle needing protection. My over-anxiety for this brought some sharp and unexpected warnings. Feeling along what I believed to be my line, I came 124 CAMP AND FIELD. Upon a man settling himself into his pit with what seemed to me more diligence than judgment. " Throw to the other side, my man; that's where the trouble is," my undertone braced with the confidence of superior wisdom. " Don't ye s'pose I know where them Yanks be? They're right on to us nowl" was the imperturbable answer of the man, who, I was thankful to find, was thinking more of his own business than of mine. "Dig away then, and keep a sharp lookout for 'emi" was the somewhat rapidly enunciated reply, which advice I proceeded to put into prompt execution myself, after a figurative inter- pretation. The men had now got themselves pretty well secured when a sudden clatter came up from the left, and a voice called out, " Where is the officer commanding this line?" He was excited and evidently not enjoying his mission. " The whole army is across the river. Get out of this as quick as God will let youl " was his highly condensed message. "Who are you, sir?" I asked with severity not wholly feigned. He gave his name and rank on the staff. "Report yourself to your general in arrest!" was my return to him for this intelligence. " You're crazy," he rejoins; " you've got all you can do not to be gobbled up as it is!" The men who heard this were scrambling out of their pits. " Steady as you are, my men, this is a stampeding coward." Some of the officers came running up. "Arrest this man for a spy, and hold fast your lines," was my word to them. Order being restored in the line, I took the staff-officer aside for mutual explanation. He was wrought up to a high pitch by the strain of the long effort to find us, along that dark and per- ilous front. Repeating that our army was already across the river, and that he had been sent to direct us to the remaining pontoon bridge, he apologized for his rashness in delivering his message, on the plea that he did not know the enemy's pickets were so near; and in turn I explained the necessity of my rough treatment of him, to seem to contradict and countermand him, that the men on both sides, who must have distinctly heard him, might be kept in their places; that ours especially, should not huddle in confusion out of the shelter of their pits, and draw the enemy's fire, and perhaps an overwhelming attack upon us. With a manner intended to reassure their justly troubled minds, the situation of things and the plan of proper retiring OAMP AND FIELI>. 125 were made known to the men. The movement was quickly or- ganized and executed. Each alternate man was to stay fast in his pit and dig more demonstratively than ever, while the others, each company in charge of its second officer, should noiselessly retire to the nearest advantageous ground and form in extended order faced to the front, and there stand until the remaining line should in like manner have taken position in their rear, when they in turn were to retire behind this second line. In that way we could at least prevent the enemy from following us up too recklessly and could come off the field in good order. Those who were the last to evacuate the rifle-pits had to use caution, trailing their pieces, and with anything but the sol- dier's erect bearing. We had fallen back but a few yards when the black flying clouds broke apart in rifts, and the moonlight struck us into full view and the gleam of the musket barrels made us for the moment a shining mark. "To the ground, every man of you," and they fell flat and motionless at the word. From that time we had to watch the favoring obscurity of the flying clouds. We, too, had caught a glimpse of the enemy creeping forward from their rifle-pits and were aware that they were following us, though perhaps in their ignorance of the field and of the meaning of our movements, quite as scared as we were; and possibly not wholly callous to the appalling images of havoc through which we had to pass. Mangled forms, rent and tossed as if the maddened beasts of the arena had run riot among them; limbs flung from their bodies and half trampled into the bloody mire; grim faces, stark and stiff^ into which the light of the waning moon struck a more than deadly pallor — a phantom light as of something neither dead nor living, with a fixedness that was more than stillness; open eyes that saw not, but seemed to see more than human; hands that still grasped their muskets with a clutch no living strength could loosen; the ghostly gleam of the scattered musket barrels weaving an unearthly web, or a bright sword- blade flashing back as if still swung by the valorous arm that had given it life for its deadly stroke. Phantasmal martyr- pyres, the heaped, incongruous ruins of a lost battery — horses, cannoneers, dismounted guns, splintered ammunition chests, crushed wheels, overturned carriages, the tongue erect in air, the pole-yokes swinging gibbet-like on high, looming suddenly 126 CAMP AND FIELD. on you with a shuddering light, then vanishing as from the earth, when the swift dragon-cloud smites the face of the moon, and blackened night swallows up the hideous scene. All save where on the far edge of the field some solitary lantern sways and sails, like the weird, hovering will-o'-the-wisp, while un- wearying love seeks still the living lost among the dead. Midway in our course we passed a house around which terri- ble slaughter had raged, the wrecks still lying where they fell. I remember but too well how the night wind shrieked and howled about the desolate walls and rooms, — a voice as of in- numerable spirits that could not rise, — while some swinging door or blind sounded like the flapping wings of the demon of doom. I do not think there has ever been a moment in my life since when the sound of that wind has been out of my ears. We were able by our orderly movement, however hurried, to bring off such of the wounded as we encountered on the aban- doned field. At the bridge-head we gathered and waited a little for all that should pass over before us; and lingered still, as if loath to turn away, held back by a sigh of the night wind, like the last wail of the stricken field, that took the breath from our bosoms and the strength from our limbs. But the rain fell now in torrents; the bridge-boats creaked as the swelling current rushed by; the narrow plankway, bedded with earth to deaden sound, stretched out into the darkness, beckoning us to noiseless passage, as from world to world. For a little while it swayed beneath our tread; men stood by the anchor lines, a few lingered at the further fastenings. ' ' Cut the guys! " the last order fell; the great pontoons swung to the hither shore, and the river ran, cold and dark, between us and our dead that had died in vain. GREATEST LOSS. PLUCK AT STONE RIVER. j^jVI/ The l.st Maine Heavy Artillery It was Gen. Wm. B. Hazen's ai|S Regiment lost more men in killed command that saved the army '"^"- and died of womids than any and the day at the battle of other regiment, 18.8 per cent., the 2d Stone River or Murfreesboro', Dec. 31, Wisconsin comes next with 17.5 per 1862. His brigade was the only one cent., and the 140th Pennsylvania next that held its position unchanged dur- with 16.4 per cent. ing the fight. Life at Chattanooga During the Siege. KXJN IN CAIVLP. B. S. BATCHELOR, Company I, 2d Minnesota. %»*.W\.\\XV^\\XVvX\X%.\W\'-: • V\\XCSX\\X\\X\\V\\V\\\.\\XV Nthe fall of 1864, not long after the battle of Chickamauga, the 2d Minn, was camped on a small rise of ground near the four large hospitals that were built by the Confederacy and afterward occupied by our army. The rebels had a piece of artillery planted on Look- out Mountain, which they had named the Lady Davis, and it made it lively for us a good many times. If there were a group of men collected, the Lady Davis would be pretty sure to pay her compliments by way of a shot or a shell. As a number of the comrades of my company were playing marbles, quite a number of the boys gathered around and became interested in the game, when a souvenir in the shape of a solid shot came from the mountain without any warning. It passed just above our heads, and made a flying visit to a small camp-fire just back of us, where a German of our company was making a cup of coffee of two days' rations, which consisted of about two table- spoonfuls, and all he would get until the next issue. The ball struck in the fire under the coffee-kettle. That coffee-kettle shot up in the air like a sky-rocket, and the little camp-fire was no more. But there stood the German covered with dirt and ashes, and so mad that he did not know what his name was. He soon recovered and swore in three different languages at the same time. He was angry enough to go up on old Lookout 128 CAMP AND FIELI). Mountain and throw that gun into the Tennessee river. But, as time is a great soother, he got over his passion and laughed with the rest of us, and was thankful that no greater damage was done. The kettle came down with the smell of coffee yet lingering about its precious sides. As our communications between Nashville and Chattanooga at that time were often interrupted, our rations were very small, and soap was a luxury almost unknown. When general inspection was ordered, how to present clean faces and hands without soap was a problem hard to solve. At ten o'clock on one morning of inspection the boys fell into line with guns and equipments in splendid condition, but I cannot say as much of our clothes and faces. Comrade Claude Pritchard must have lovingly caressed the camp-kettle before falling in; for one side of his face was as black as possible, while the other side was comparatively clean. As the order was given, " Right dress!" Sergeant Bending said, ''What nigger is that in our company?" And as he presented the black side of his face to the front, the captain said, "Pritchard, go and wash your face." Pritchard disappears with alacrity into his tent. In a very short space of time his head reappears from his tent with his face as black as ever, and very distinctly says, "Captain, have you got any soap?" The inspecting officer took one look and laughed aloud. The laugh was contagious, and we were soon all in a roar. The captain said, " Sergeant Bending, take that man to the guard-house!" and this ended the fun for that day. Pritchard was a faithful soldier, and I hope he fares now better than he did then. GREAT TURNING POINT. GLOOMY DAYS. John E. Cooke (Confederate). tHE long struggle culminating at ^^RAMP — Are you a Grand Army Gettysburg ended as completely '^^^ man? '™^ as if Lee had laid down his arms ^ Gentleman — Yes. there. After the repulse at Cemetery Tramp — Could you help a poor fellow Hill the event of the war was decided, who lost his leg during the war ? and any commander of respectable Gentleman (giving him ten cents) — ability niight have achieved the results What regiment did you belong to ? of 1864 and 1865. Gettysburg was the Tramp — Not any, sir. I was run great turning point of the war, and the down by a beer wagon a day or two commander of the Federal forces there, after the battle of Fair Oaks. Those General Meade, was a soldier indeed. were gloomy days, sir. FISRING aP TORPEBOES PLANTED BY THE REBELS IN RED RIVER. Fearful Explosion which Hurled the Picker-Up Two Hundred Feet. By S. E>. R. i- Cs< *-o — ^■—5-= WAS among others detailed from the Federal steamer " Mononga- hela," to search the Red river be- tween the Tensar and the Missis- sippi, for the torpedoes which had been planted by the Confederates. These torpedoes wei-e of all makes, shapes, and sizes, from a pork barrel half-full of powder, to be fired by electricity from the shore, to a glass demijohn holding ten pomids, to be exploded by contact. Some were on the surface, some just under it, and some on the bottom. We went out in fours to hunt for these terrifiers, each boat being provided with grapnels, nets, boat-hooks, and whatever else was needed for fishing up the monsters. We had to exercise great caution, for the channel was tortuous and no one could guess at what point we would come aci'oss a tor- pedo. The woods were shelled two or three times a day by our gunboats, but the Confederate swamp-cats were by no means driven out. They had every chance to secrete themselves, and we realized that if we came upon an elec- tric torpedo we ran every risk of being blown sky-high. We had been at work three or four days and had fished up seven or eight ugly-looking fellows, when we got into a part of the channel which ran within fifty feet of the right bank. A colored man who had been lying in the swamps for several weeks waiting for deliver- ance, mformed us that he had observed men planting something in this bend two weeks before. He thought there were wires leading to the swamp, but we scouted about for a couple of hours without being able to find that such was the case. The bank was a dense jungle in which one thousand men could have concealed themselves. About an hour after dinner we moved up and began grappling in the bend. The boat turned her bow down sti'eara, threw over her grapnels, and two men used the oars to give her headway. We had not pulled fifty feet when the irons took hold, and I drew the boat back to the spot by means of the rope. Then, standing on the seat in the stern, I lifted at the obstruction, and it came slowly up. It had just appeared suffi- cient for me to make out that it was a boiler-iron torpedo, when there came an 130 CAMP AND FIELD, awful explosion. The same instant our boat was lifted high in air and broken to pieces, and I scarcely com- prehended what had occurred until I found myself in the water two hundred feet below the point of explosion. My hair, whiskers, and eyebrows were badly singed, and my clothing on fire, as I came down after the flight. While I had escaped, the other three were killed outright, and the wave created swamped a boat working a few hundred feet below us and drowned one of her crew. While swimming for this capsized boat, a man stood on the bank of the river and fired four shots at me from a revolver, and with the fifth he killed the colored man who had given the in- formation. The victim stood upon the bank, about midway between the two boats, and was shot through the head. . The torpedo was no doubt exploded by electricity, and the man who fired the shots was the operator who ex- ploded it. A PRKNIONITION, KILLED AT SAVAGE'S STATION. S. C. Gallup, 3d Vt. NE day, while encamped near the Chickahominy river, a member of our company earnestly de- clared in the presence of sev- eral comrades that he would be killed in the next battle. I cannot recall his name, though I remember distinctly his countenance and general appear- ance. On this day, the 29th, we rested near Savage's Station, on the railroad by which we had received our army supplies. The day was clear and hot. Exposed to a scorching sun, we waited, ready to fall in at a moment's notice. Within a few feet of our company was a large pile of ammunition, biirning and exploding. Some of the bullets and grape-shot were hurled within dan- gerous proximity to our regiment. As this pile was the property of our gov- ernment, it was an unpleasant reminder of the fact that our army was retreat- ing before an enemy eager to destroy us. On the other side of a cleared field in which we were resting were the tents of the general hospital, which were filled with our sick and wounded. Through a painful necessity, such of these as could not march would, in a few hours, fall into the hands of the enemy. Our division was left at Savage's Sta- tion to check the enemy. It was begin- ning to grow dark, when, according to orders, we fell in, faced to the rear, and advanced rapidly into a pine forest, and there formed line of battle. It was so dai'k that we could not see the rebel force which was approaching through the thick timber within mus- ket range. Suddenly there burst upon our view a long line of bright flashes, followed by a terrible roar of musketry and a shower of bullets, which came pouring into our lines. Ovir brigade held its position firmly, and gave the rebels such a warm reception that they soon ceased firing, and fell back. Thus ended the battle of Savage's Station. In this battle a member of our company was killed, and he was the soldier who had said that he would be killed in the next battle. BATTLE OF lUKA AND CORINTH. Sept. 21, 1862. How Rosecrans met the Confederates.— A Storm of Cannon Balls and Bullets. By p. C. FERGUSON, Lieut. Co. I, 43d Ohio. HE 31st of September, 1863, found Rosecrans in camp at Clear Creek, near Corinth, Mississippi. We had been there some time, battling with yellow jaundice and typhoid fever, when the Con- federate army, under Price, Van Dorn, and Lovell, made their appearance near Bear Creek. One bright Sabbath morning we struck tents, and started out on the Jacinto road, seven miles dis- tant from Corinth and about the same distance from luka Springs. General Grant was in command on the Bern- ville road, about the same distance from luka. The order from General Grant was to move up to within three miles of luka and bivouac for the night, but the enemy would not allow us in such close proximity. We were not far out of Jacinto when we encountered the enemy's pickets, and where we thought to camp for the night, we found the ground bitterly disputed. Van Dorn threw his division against us with so much fury that we wavered and fell back for a short distance. We rallied, and the ball opened in good earnest, the enemy being in turn driven back. The battle became fierce. A brass battery of the 1st Ohio had hardly gotten into position before the Confederates charged it. The men stood by their guns until they had not a horse and but few men left. At this in- stant the 11th Mo. Infantry came to their rescue and saved the battery. The possession of this battery seemed to be what 132 CAMP AND FIELD, both sides were fighting for. as it was taken and retaken several times. For unknown reasons Grant did not move up on the right and we stood our ground about three hours before night stopped the carnage. The loss was about equal on each side. The following morning the brigade moved in line of battle, momentarily expecting to be engaged, but the enemy had fled leaving tents, camp equipage, and all. The following Friday, they began to drive the Union forces in on Corinth, The latter now consisted of the lOtli Army Corps, under Gen. W, S. Rosecrans. The enemy drove General Palmer's division all day Friday and Saturday, and gradually pushed us back to- wards our forts. Saturday, October 1, found the Union army disposed as follows: Palmer's division on the right. Stone's division on the left, with Davis in reserve, the Ohio brigade in support of Battery Robinet, a line of field guns, reaching almost from Battery Robinet to Fort Williams on the right, and still another small fort on the right of the railroad. Early on Sunday morning, before it was light, the enemy ran a battery up the road to within a short distance of Fort Robinet and began firing. I was on the picket line, a few rods in front of the fort. They made it warm for a short time, but when the sun came up clear and bright, the heavy artillery in the fort opened on the battery and disabled it in a twinkling. We went forward and pulled it in. All this time the enemy were evidently preparing for some bold move. About nine o'clock they emerged from the woods in solid column, and led by Colonel Rogers, of the od Texas Rangers, made a desperate charge on Fort Robinet, The artillery played havoc in their ranks, but on they came. By some mistake they were taken for our own men, and our brigade lay flat upon the ground until the enemy were actually within the fort, when the word was: "Fix bayonets, double quick, charge!" The Ohio brigade sprang to their feet and in a minute the fort was cleared and the enemy sent flying in all directions. Some few prisoners were taken and a great many more of the Confederates never returned to their comrades. The enemy next moved on our right and attacked Fort Williams. They made the grandest charge at that point that I ever witnessed, the charging column consisting of a brigade of Mississippi troops. They emerged from the roads in solid CAMP AND FIELD, 133 column, but our forts had a cross fire on them and mowed them down like grain before the sickle. Nevertheless, they closed up and moved on until they reached the fort. The fort was supported by Palmer's men, who failed to check them in tli^^ least. On they went right through the line of our artillery and men, right up to the town. Just when the day looked the brightest for the enemy, Davis's division, thus far held in re- serve, came down on them like an avalanche, and swept every- thing back. None escaped the steel of Davis's gallant men, who drove them right past the fort they had captured but a few moments before. On they went until they reached the wood, when they came to a halt and gradually fell back to our line. All this time General Rosecrans was watching the proceedings with intense interest and giving orders as circumstances re- quired. About four of that memorable day he came along the lines with his staff. Cheer after cheer went up from the men as General Rosecrans said, ''Boys, the day is ours and the enemy is flying." LOOKOUT N/LOUNTAIN. B. F. TAYLOR. gNe^ESPASIAN'S royal edifice jyC/p Whose world of ruin nursed "^^ his name, Would be a vestibule to this Great amphitheater of fame. Upon its parquet's rugged floors Lie cities of the noiseless doors. White drifts of camps like flocks of sheep I see artillery asleep ; The six in hands of muleteers Behind a picket fence of ears ; I see gray swarms along the hills ; I hear the bayonet cotfee mills, A snare drum snarling to itself,. A catch of song, a blue coat joke, I smell the sweet red cedar smoke. No sign of storm or anything, The very standards droop and cling. QENERAL HANCOCK'S HUIVIOR. fENERAL HANCOCK was not much given to humorous declara- tions, but he said one exceedingly good thing in that line at Gettysburg. At a certain stage of that great battle it happened that some subordinate officer, acting upon his own responsibility, dis- regarded ordinary military rules and caused a decided advantage to be gained where, according to West Point philoso- phy, a disaster should have ensued. Hancock was both provoked and de- lighted. " If I knew the fool who ordered that movement," he exclaimed, "I would have him brevetted ! " -'^ Baffle ©f ^©PlHfS.^^ Thk Assault on Kort Robinet. OCTOBER 3, 4, 1862. A 63d OHIO MAN'S RECOLLECTIONS. |URING the early part of September, 1862, a part of Stanley's division, to which Fuller's Ohio brigade was attached, occupied luka, Miss. We received orders to evac- uate the place on the night of the 13th, leaving the 8th Wis. , un- der Colonel Murphy, behind, with orders to destroy the govern- ment property, of which there was an immense amount; but that order Colonel Murphy failed to obey for reasons known only to himself, and the property fell into the hands of Generals Price and Van Dorn. We encamped near Cedar Creek, a few miles from Corinth, on the 14th, and unceremoniously received orders on the night of the 17th to fall in, taking the back track for luka. The ad- vance of Gen. W. S. Rosecrans's army drove in the outpost of the enemy about noon, September 19, at a farm house called Barnett's Cross-roads, from which point General Rosecrans sent a courier to General Grant, at Burns ville, eight miles from luka, informing him of the fact, and that he expected to meet the rebels in force that afternoon. The messenger failed to reach General Grant, having lost the road before the real battle of luka commenced; conse- quently General Rosecrans had to fight alone against immense odds, and he won the field, after a desperate engagement. I picked up General Lytle's sword after the battle. I had charge of a detail burying the dead the next day, and examining our CAMP AND FIELD. 135 own men I came across a soldier of the 4Stli Ind., who had been hit in three places, one ball going clear through his body and lodging in a small Bible in his knapsack. He was about twenty years old, with red hair, and I think his name was Williams. After luka we went back near to Corinth, and while on this march an incident happened not very pleasing to our division commander. General Stanley. My regiment had its proportion of stragglers, and among them was one noted for his foraging propensities. At a farm house near which we halted was a lot of bee-hives, and this fellow wanted some honey. While getting it General Stanley came out of the house, which scared the fellow so that he dropped the hive and ran, and the bees went for the general. I presume the general has not for- gotten the fact, or the licking he gave the fellow with one of the teamster's whips. After lying a few days near the Tuscumbia river we got orders again on the night of October 2d, and crossing the Tuscumbia at sunrise the 3d, Colonel Sprague told us to fill all our canteens and take a big drink, as we would be likely to have a fight before we saw any more water, which was a fact, although we did not get into an engagement that day. In the afternoon of that day, the canteens being nearly empty, a call was made by company commanders for two volunteers to take the canteens and look for water, but I had been saving with mine and it was half full. That evening we took position near Fort Robinet, and Co. B of our regiment did picket duty on the Chewalla road, to the left of Robinet. It was just before daylight on the 4th of October, that we captured the rebel Captain Tobin and his bugler. We were lying on each side of the road, a few rods from Robinet, when the rebel captain and the bugler came along in advance of his battery, and with perfect assurance, as they thought our army had evacuated the place, everything was so still. The rebel batteries opened before daylight, but our artillery did not take any notice of them until broad day, which accounted for Captain Tobin's thinking we had evacuated. Shortly after sunrise we received the first rebel assault, and it was in their second assault, but a short time after, that Colonel Rogers, of the Texas Legion, was killed. We captured a handsome brass James rifle, made in En- gland. It was taken before either rebel assaults, and the 1st 136 CAMP AND FIELD. U. S. Inf. had the cheek to lay claim to the prize. A year after, while I was an ordnance officer, I recognized the same gun, with this inscription: " Captured at Corinth, Miss., October 4, 1862, by 1st U. S. Inf." Immediately in the rear of Robinet was Fort Williams, and to their guns, as much as any, were the rebels indebted for their defeat, as a perfect storm of shot and shell fell upon them. Fort Madison, an inside earthwork mounting heavy guns, was manned by part of Co. D, 63d Ohio, and did good execution. SOLDIER'S DEATH-BED HYMN, Mrs. NANNIE I. MILLER. ^^ET me go where saints are going, c^ To the mansions of the blest ; t> Let me go where my Redeemer Has prepared his people's rest. I would gain the realms of brightness, Where they dwell forevermore ; I would join the friends that wait me Over on the other shore. Let me go ; why should I tarry, What has earth to bind me here ? What but cares, and toils, and sorrow, What but pain, and death, and fear T Let me go, for hopes most cherished Blasted 'round me often lie ; Oh ! I've gathered brightest flowers But to see them fade and die. Let me go where none are weary, Where is raised no wail of woe ; Let me go and bathe my spirit In the raptui-es angels know. Let me go, for bliss eternal Lures my soul away, away, And the victors' song triumphant Thrills my heart ; I cannot stay. Let me go where tears and sighing Are forevermore unknown ; Where the joyous song of glory Calls me to a happier home. Let me go, I fear not dying, I would gain life's fairer plains, I would join the myriad harpers, I would chant the rapturous strains. Let me go, there is a glory That my soul has longed to know ; I am thirsting for the waters That from crystal fountains flow ! There is where the angels tarry, There the blest forever throng, There the brightness wearies never, There we'll sing Redemption's song. KieKm^imes oF QJ^ir i^e^acilGrg. GEO. E. WILLIA-IS/tS. ^^VERY general of prominence had a nickname bestowed upon him by his troops. Some of these names were sarcastic, but usually they indicated the confidence of the men in their leaders. General Grant was commonly known in the Army of the Potomac as " Old United States," from the initials of his name, but some- times he was called " Old Three Stars," that number indicating his rank as lieutenant-general. McClellan was en- deared to his army as " Little Mac." Meade, who wore spectacles, was de- lighted to hear that the soldiers had named him " Four-eyed George," for he knew it was not intended as a reproach. Burnside, the colonel of the 1st R. I. Regt., rose to the dignity of " Rhody " when he became a general. Hooker never liked the sobriquet of " Fighting Joe," though he always lived up to it on the field. Pope was saddled with the title of " Saddle-bag John," in memory of his famous order about headquarters being on horseback. His ^ men used to say that their headquarters moved pretty rapidly at times. Sigel, the German general, was known in the corps as " Dutchy." Hancock won the brevet of " Superb," from a remark made by General Meade at Gettysburg when the Second Corps repulsed Long- street's men. Humphi'ey, being a dis- tinguished engineer, was invariably »tyled " Old Mathematics." The Penn- sylvania Reserves used to call Crawford "Physics," he being a surgeon at the beginning of his military career. Logan, with his long black hair and dai'k com- plexion, was " Black Jack." Sheridan, the cavalry leader, was "Little Phil," and Slierman's troops spoke of him as " Old Tecumseh." The sterling nature and steadfast purpose of Thomas earned for him the significant name of " Old Reliable." Alexander McDowell Mc- Cook, like Hooker, was called " Fight- ing McCook." The New York City regiments in the 5th Corps changed Sykes to " Syksey." Halleck was de- risively named " Old Brains," and Rose- crans had his name shortened to " Rosy." Lew Wallace was " Louisa " to the soldiers under his command ; he was a great favorite for his fighting qualities, and the soldiers adopted that inappropriate name for want of a better. Kearney, who had left an arm in Mex^ ico, was invariably known in the ranks as " One-armed Phil." Butler was styled " Cock-eye " for obvious reasons. Kilpatrick was nicknamed " Kill," while Custer was called " Ringlets " on ac- count of his long, flowing curls ; and so the catalogue might be prolonged in- definitely. Among the Confederates, familiar nicknames were not as common as with the Federals. The soldiers of the Army of Northern Virginia usually spoke of General Lee as "Bob Lee." Little INIahone was best known as " Skin and Bones." Early was called " Bad Old Man," and Jackson will live in history as " Stonewall." A FIGHTING CHAPLAIN. EXPERIENCE AT THE BATTLE OF SOUTH MOUNTAIN.-FIERCE MORTAR DUELS. By REV. GEORGE G. SMITH, Chaplain in the Phillips Georgia Legion. F you will permit, I will tell you about the afternoon at South Mountain, in 1862, when I received a bullet —^ ") through my neck, and when night alone saved General j^^^ Lee's army from capture. A year before I had been the pastor of a charming little church in a beautiful valley in upper Georgia. I was just married, and ought to have been content to have staid at home, but in my veins was the blood of those who had fought in the Revolution, and when I saw my parishioners going to the front I went too, as the chaplain of the Phillips Legion. We had fifteen com- panies — nine of infantry, five of cavalry, and one of artil- lery — commanded by Col. William Phillips. We had had our share of hard work, but until the summer of 1862, we had no serious fighting. On the Sunday morning (September 14) on which the battle of South Mountain began, we were in camp at Hagerstown. We were expecting quite a time of repose when the order came to return towards Boonsboro'. I had 7iot the remotest dream of any hot work, nor do I think any of us had, for we had no idea that the army of the Potomac could be re- organized and mobilized so soon. We thought the assault upon our lines was merely a feint of cavalry. This was evidently General Lee's opinion, or else he would not have allowed Jack- son to have crossed the Potomac; but it was soon evident from the rapid motion of the artillery and infantry that hot work OAMP AND FIELD. 139 was before us. My regiment had gone and I ambled off as rapidly as I could toward the front. Somehow I got the name of the "fighting chaplain," and candidly I did not like it, for it was neither just nor compli- mentary. I did not go to the army to fight; I did not fight after I got there. I had as little stomach for fighting as Falstaff had. I went to the army as a chaplain, and as a chap- lain I did my work, and yet that day I got a bullet through my neck, I ought not to have gone where the bullets were flying, but I did go and I got hit, and this is how it came about. I found Generals Lee, Longstreet, and Jones, standing at the base of the pass, and with them was one of the staff officers of our brigade. Captain Young, Inquiring of him for my regi- ment, he told me that it was behind a stone fence on the right of the Boonsboro' and Frederick pike, and I immediatel}'' re- paired to that place. A battery of light artillery was firing overhead and we lay quietly looking toward the south. Sud- denly the order came to change front. We were now to face towards the west. The turnpike was narrow, and the enemy were upon us. The change of position called for a change from line of battle to column, and then from column into line. My own regiment did beautifully and for a moment we looked to the woods expecting the Federals to charge upon us, but in- stead we were ordered to leave the protection of the stone wall and to charge into the woods. As we entered the woods I saw a poor fellow fall and heard him say, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." I went to him and said, "My friend, that's a good prayer, I hope you feel it." He answered, " Stranger, I am not afraid to die; I made my peace with God over thirty years ago." Just at that moment I heard Cook, our commander, say in a loud voice, " For God's sake don't fire; we are friends!" I turned and saw a body of our troops about ready to fire. I said, " I will go back, colonel, and stop them." As I ran back to the fence, I looked down the very road we had left, and saw a body of Federals moving on us. Something must be done, and I ran tb General Drayton, our commander, and told him the position, A feint certainly must be made; if the Federals should know that the stone fence was abandoned, they would sweep upon the fence and thus capture the last man. Major Gest, when he saw how matters were, placed the few men he had in position; and I started for my regiment. As I came to 140 CAMP AND FIELD. the pike, I saw a soldier shooting towards the east. It took but a moment for me to see that the Federals were east, south, and west of us. The firing was now fierce, but I felt that my regiment must be brought out of that pocket at all hazards, and I started to warn it, when I found it retreating. Poor Ellis, a Welchman, had run the gantlet and given them warning, and the regi- ment was now retreating in a broken and confused manner. One of the boys, Gus Tomlinson, in tears, said: *' Parson, we've been whipped; the regiment is retreating." "And none too soon either," said I, "for we are surrounded on all sides but one." Just then I felt a strange dizziness and fell, my arm dropping lifeless by my side. I knew that I was hit, and I thought mortally wounded. But where was I hit? Was my arm torn off by a shell? No, here that is. Was I shot through the breast? or — yes, here it was — blood was gurgling from my throat. The dear boys rushed to me, laid me on a blanket and bore me off the field. I thought I was mortally wounded; so did they. " Yes, parson," said they, "it's all up with you." The ball had entered myi^neck, and ranging downward, came out near my spine, paralyzing my arm. How does a man feel under such circumstances? Well, one thing I felt, and that was, that it's a good thing in such an hour to have faith in Christ and love toward all men. I had been in battle but there was not one of the soldiers in the Federal ranks for whom I had any feeling other than love. As we came out Hood's division went in, but it was the caution of the Federals and the cover of the night that saved our army that day from a worse defeat and from capture. THE ANGLE. A WORD FROM GEN. PORTER. ■0 *" — ^ s — -• ■ e« .» ■ • — " SI'S — -• i. At the battle of Spottsylvania Court Colonel James McQuade, of the House, called " The Angle," it is claimed 14th New York Volunteers, was the that thei-e were more dead men found only i-egimental commander of Grif- on the ground than in any other battle fin's brigade who escaped death during of modern times to the same number the Seven Days' Battles on the Penin- of acres. sula. IP BUCPATER Hpi GOPEST. SEPTEMBER 27, 1862. A Brave and Daring Act of the Gallant Commodore, C. W. Flusser. "W. p. DERBY, 27thL ]VIass. ENERAL DIX desired the naval forces in the North Carolina waters to co-operate with him in an attack upon the enemy at the Blackwater river, and six o'clock, Sept. 27, 1862, was the hour fixed for the attack. The Commodore Perry, under the gallant com- mander, C. W, Flusser, and the Hunchback, under the "old reliable " Captain Calhoun, were ordered to this duty. General Dix sent to have a later date fixed for the attack, but before his messenger arrived our vessels were far on their way up the Chowan. At six o'clock, our vessels were at the assigned point and fired the signal gun. They cautiously ascended the Black- water until the stream was so narrow that a desperate foe might board them from either bank. Suddenly a musketry fire raked the Perry and cut down her flag. Everything was ready for close action, and for four hours these vessels kept up the unequal contest with grape shrapnel and half -sec- ond shells, hoping each moment to hear the sound of friendly arms to their relief. Twice Commodore Flusser sent forward a man to raise his flag, each of whom fell lifeless at the foot of the flag-staff. He then went and raised it himself amidst a storm of bullets, and returned, his clothes riddled by shot but himself unharmed. He then went to a gunner, saying, " I'll show you how to cut a fuse," and suiting action to his word stooped and cut the fuse close to the shell. As he did so a ball passed over him and pierced his gunner's heart. Their ammunition was running low, and failing to hear from General Dix, they reversed their engines to drop down the 142 CAMP AND FIELD. river. Fortunately the two vessels were armed ferry boats and could move with equal facility in either direction, as tiiey could not turn if they would. But a new difficulty now beset them. During the engagement the enemy had felled trees from both banks in the river below, completely obstructing the channel. These men were not the men to be caught in such a trap. Chaining the two steamers stern to stern the engine of the fore- most was stopped, and with a full head of steam at the rear they ploughed their way through the obstruction. Huge guns meantime thundered forth storms of iron in answer to the in- cessant musketry from the shore. These two vessels had been the terror of the North Carolina waters, and now that they were seemingly within their grasp the enemy were determined to make sure of them. The shock of heavy guns answered to shock and the roll of small arms told of the desperate determi- nation of the contestants. At length the vessels reached clear sailing and the sullen enemy quickly retreated from the reach of their guns. It was well done. Just like Flusser! and when any one challenged Captain Calhoun he was sure to get a '• Hunchback." a/S^-^J i=^Ss A SOLDIKR'S ORAVK. lONE L. JONES. RUDE wooden cross 'mid a tanoie of a:rasses — Poverty's tribute of love ; I would that I knew who lies 'neath the wild masses, Swaying in silence above." Then she dropped a white rose 'mid the shadows and masses, And passed with her burden of flowers. Alas! 'neath the weeds that the fra- grant breeze tosses Sleepeth, thro' sunshine and showers, The form of a soldier, beloved and be- lieving, Borne from the battle field dead ; And the hands of a maiden whose heart broke with grieving Placed the rude cross at his head. MY ESCAPE FROM THE REBELS. Tale t of * Prison-Pen ^ and i Stockade. HOW COLUMBIA, S. C, CAME TO BE BURNED.— TWENTY DAYS WITH SHERMAN'S "BUMMERS." CAPT. IRA B. SAMPSON, 2ci Mass. Heavy Artillery. FTER a few weeks' stay at Savannah, the move- ments of General Sherman necessitated the removal of prisoners to a place of greater safety. We were therefore taken to Charleston, S. C, and quarters assigned us at the jail and contiguous yard. We were here within range , , ^^- ~ ) grass-grown streets were of the Union guns of ~J ^-^"tL ., graphic witnesses of the Morris Island, and such //^^^m-"^ effective work of "Gill- exposure was a specimen ^mMmMLl nigre's swamp angels " — of rebel barbarity seldom ^^5\^:^ or as they were more p a r a U e 1 e d. Toppled Wfjikms^'^ familiarly called by the steeples and chimneys, ^^If^^S^ prisoners, "Gillmore's j^awning house walls and ^'^f*^^^^ ^ morning reports." For weeks I slept beneath the old gallows within the jail-yard, and though it was grimly suggestive it furnished me protection and comfort others would have been glad to secure. The waning heat of summer brought with it the dreaded scourge, yellow fever. Reaching Columbia at night we lay upon the ground in a soaking rain, — a bath we much enjoyed. The next morning we were removed to " Camp Sorghum," an old cotton field near the Congaree river, a short distance above the city. Having no stockade, it was surrounded with a cordon of guards and equipped with the usual number of blood-hounds, the former with instructions to shoot any one approaching the dead line. 144 CAMP AND FIELD. At first our supply of wood was obtained by a loop guard thrown out in the timber, but later a daily parole was substi- tuted. Some broke their parole and endeavored to escape, but most of us were too reduced in strength to make such an at- tempt. There were some 1500 officers confined in the field, liv- ing in holes in the ground and in booths made of sticks and leaves until quite late in the fall, when with the aid of a few axes some rude huts were constructed. Late in December the weather and insufficiency of clothing forced the removal of the camp to a stockade near the city. This inclosed two acres of the state insane asylum grounds and was therefore styled "Asylum camp." Within the inclosure were two buildings used as hospitals. These hospitals were provided with nurses from our numbers while occasional visits of a Confederate surgeon supplied us with a scanty amount of medicines. Our rations were inadequate in quantity and quality. We slept during the day in the sun and walked the camp at night to keep warm. Believing our forces were surely pressing toward us, we ex- pected the enemy would attempt a removal of the prisoners, and hence our leisure moments had been spent in devising " retreats " in which to seclude ourselves when marching orders were received. Lieut. R. B. Sinclair, Co. G, 2d Regt. Mass. heavy artillery, had been acting as nurse in the larger hospital and had his bunk at the front of the second upper hall. Along the front of this building was a piazza wainscoted overhead, and he conceived the idea of hiding between the ceiling and roof. Using a case-knife with notches for a saw a hole was cut dur- ing the nights underneath his bunk into this space. The boards were replaced, the cracks filled with soap, and we waited events. On the night of February 13, 1865, we received orders to move. Nine of us stowed ourselves within the hiding place, filling it to its utmost capacity. A comrade outside generously re- placed the boards, refilling the cracks with soap and then left us to our fate. Our party now consisted of Major Reynolds, 14th N. Y, artillery, Lieuts. R. B. Sinclair and William Hamil- ton, 2d Mass. heavy artillery, Lieutenants Devine and Byers with three others, now unknown, besides myself. The drums beat, the line was formed, and the prisoners moved out of the pen to the cars and started for North Carolina. This was about one o'clock at night. CAMP AND FIELD. 145 During the rest of the night the rebel guards searched the grounds for prisoners, and in the morning we saw them through the cracks form a line across the camp and march slowly to the other side, testing every inch of its surface with their ramrods and bayonets. Some fifty or inore comrades were exhumed, for it was an old trick and fully understood by the rebels. Guards came within the building where we were concealed, searching every nook and corner except where we were, and their conversation showed that we were overlooked. Our quarters allowed no room for movement, and no utterance above a whisper was thought of. The rebel guard withdrew during the night of the 14th. On whispered consultation, we determined to break our seclusion that night before nine o'clock, as citizens at that hour were required to be within their homes. It was scarcely more than eight o'clock when we emerged from our hiding place, and after a reconnoiter it was decided that each man should shift for himself. Entering the deserted grounds, now still as death, our own breath and footfall startled us with a strange nervousness. The entrance was closed, but by the aid of a stick I was enabled to climb the stockade and stand within a sentry-box recently occupied by one of our guards. I could see nothing but the glimmer of lights in the suburbs of the city, and guided by these I soon found myself on a street leading into a thickly settled portion. Having the utmost confidence in the blacks, who had always proved faithful in the protection of escaped prisoners, I deter- mined to throw myself upon their generosity. I found myself near a cabin not far from a city mansion, and thought it must be the servants' quarters. My knock at the door was answered by an old " aunty," who looking at me in astonishment, grasped my hand and, drawing me into the house, exclaimed, " I know you!" The only other occupant was an old colored man, who beckoned me to follow him. He took me to a barn, and from a scaffold I worked my way around two sides of the barn under the hay and made a cozy nest — a safe hiding place — from which I could watch operations without. It is needless to add that I was at once supplied with an abun- dance of food. On the morning of the 16th I found my position to be on the east side of the city and nearly opposite to where the Union army afterwards entered. The day passed. My faithful keepers gave me from time to time the flying rumors 146 CAMP AND FIELD. as to Massa Sherman's whereabouts and supposed intentions. First he was certainly crossing the river above, and then below, "for shure, massa.." Out of it all I was certain the blue coats were coming and the hour of deliverance was at hand. There were ominous sounds of hurrying troops and the distant peal and reverberation of cannon, which gathered strength as the day wore away. My strength increased with the boom of the cannon, and for once I found myself thriving on the enemy's misfortunes. The morning of the 17th of February opened with the hasty evacuation and attempt to burn the city of Columbia by the enemy. It was hardly more than ten o'clock before a body of Wheeler's rebel cavalry issued from the city a quarter of a mile distant, firing several buildings, including the railroad depot and warehouses, filled with grain and other stores, and then passed across the fields on the outskirts of the city and disap- peared. There was no chance of a mistake as to who they were or what their intention was in firing the buildings. I was well satisfied that the evacuation had begun. This was some little time before the appearance of General Sherman, My colored friends had been instructed to watch events and bring me the first blue-coat which entered the city. A little before noon I was summoned to appear. Never was order obeyed more eagerly as I jumped from the scaffold and was presented to an officer of one of Iowa's brave regiments. With one bound I was in his arms and beyond that I never knew or felt little responsibility for what happened. I have been told that the prisoners as they met acted more like crazy men than rational beings. In passing into the city it was noticed that the streets were lined with broken bales of cotton, and from the amount con- sumed there was no escape from the conclusion that it must have been fired some time previous to the coming of the Union forces by the rebels before their retreat. It was so stated to me by a number of citizens. The fire from the first had been urged on by a high w^nd, but during the excitement attending the evacuation of the enemy and occupation by the Union army, little attention had been paid to the progress of the flames. It soon became evident that it would require energetic work to stop the conflagration. The Iowa brigade aided by others battled bravely against its ad- CAMP AND FIELD. 147 vance, but the strong wind carried the burning brands far and wide with destructive effect. It was plain that the fire was be- yond control, and but for the presence of an army of disciplined men there could hardly have been a building left to mark its former site. I never worked harder than that night in saving life and property, and yet it was in sight of the hated stock- ade where but a few hours previous I had been confined as an outlaw. When the morning of the 18th dawned the fire was stayed, but five hundred houses, five churches and a convent lay in ruins. As we were about to leave Columbia, Captain Greble and my- self were invited to look after a party of refugees — ladies and children desiring to go North. We confiscated a family car- riage with a good team and took turns as gallants for three or four days; but this was too monotonous for such ex- citing times, so we secured a colored "brudder" for this duty and joined in the more satisfactory v/ork of Sherman's bum- mers. On reaching Fayetteville, N. C, we found a Union tug-boat which had come up the Cape Fear river to meet our forces. The tug had met with considerable opposition in ascending the river. I offered my services as artillerist to take charge of the guns on the return to Wilmington. Bidding adieu to my com- rades and an army unequaled for endurance and bravery, the tug turned its prow down the river, reaching Wilmington in a single night without opposition. A few days later I reported at Washington and received thirty days' leave of absence for having made "an escape." Not many hours later I rejoined the loved ones at home in "God's country." BAND OK HEROKS. f|HE most remarkable instance, per- and Chaplain Newhall, of General A^ haps, of a small band of heroes, Mcintosh's staff. a| '^^ successfully opposing a vastly su- This little band were every one **" perior force, occurred at the very close killed or disabled, but they succeeded of the battle of Gettysburg. "The in delaying the enemy until General enemy were temporarily checked," says Custer came up with the 7th Michigan General Doubleday in his history of regiment." The gallant Treichel (now the battle, "by a desperate charge on Colonel) still lives, and is the effi- their flanks made by only sixteen men cient auditor of the New York Custom under Captains Treichel and Rogers, House. DECENIBER, 1862. HOW IT WAS DONE.-A GREAT SURPRISE. ■E>y TFT. I=. XlEXSB-2", 2 7tli. 2v£ass. ''N December, 1862, six companies of the Mass. 27th, under Maj. W. G. Bartholomew, were the garrison of Plymouth, N. C. Learning the whereabouts of a de- tachment of Walker's Cavalry Rangers, Lieutenant Pliny Wood, with three non-commissioned officers and twenty privates, left Plymouth at night for " up country." In spite of darkness, rain, and snags, they toiled up the river and through branches and creeks until three o'clock in the morning of the 21st, when they had made a distance of twenty-five miles. After landing, they marched four and a half miles through woods and swamps to the Williamston road, a mile above, and to the rear of Shiloh church, where the "rangers" were quartered. After a full understanding of what was to be done. Lieutenant Wood divided his force into four squads and advanced, a squad taking position upon each side of the church. It was gray of dawn and quite difficult to distinguish objects. Lieutenant Wood now shouted, " First Division, halt! Front! Ready!" which was responded to on the other sides of the church. "Second, Third and Fourth Divisions, halt! Front! Ready!" Lieutenant Wood's squad marched to the front door and in the name of General Wood demanded an immediate and unconditional surrender. Sixteen men came out and surren- dered, while the other squads came up and secured their arms and the horses tethered close by. At length the rebel sergeant asked, " Where in h— 1 are you uns mens?" and when told to " see them " angrily exclaimed: " Is that all? If we had known that, you uns would have had a merry fight, by ; but you CAMP AND FIELD, 149 uns ain't got the pickets yet." The countersign was extorted from one of the prisoners, when a detail was made to relieve the pickets, and soon after the detail returned with four addi- tional prisoners and their horses. The party arrived at Ply- mouth about noon with twenty prisoners and their arms and equipments, twenty-five horses, twelve mules, and forty con- trabands; all without the firing of a gun. ANIERICA'S ANSWKR. H. BERNARD CARPENTER. 1861-1885. ^^"^OW twice twelve years ago, "--^ When we, thro' fields of woe, Weeping, went forth to sow Our blood's bright seed. We cried to the old-world land: " These fresh wounds crave your hand ; Help us to balm and band In our sore need." Those twice twelve years are gone, War's harvest work is done. All our stars sing as one From sea to sea, While far across the main Their skies grow black with rain, Where the old world cries in pain, "Your help need we." Then back their message ran : " Renounce your cloud-born plan, Deeming that man with man Can live thus free ; Unbind your lictor's rod, Teach old disdain to nod. Throne custom for your God And — live as WE." Back flies our answering word : " Free your soil, sheathe your sword, Live ye in love's accord As men ; be free ; Be one — till peace creates. High above gods and fates, A World's United States, And — live as WE." BATTERY D. The most daring and desperate act of the war by any battery has been credited by both Union and Confederate author- ity to Battery D, 5th U. S. Artillery, Lieut. Ritterhouse, and occurred at the battle of Spottsylvania, May 13, 1864. GREATEST NUMBER OF BATTLES. The 8.5th Pennsylvania participated in a greater number of battles (up to Nov., 1864,) than any other regiment in the 5th Corps. It took part in twenty-five, next came the 1st Michigan, twenty-four, and then the 16th Michigan, twenty-two. Capture of Fort Hindnian, IMm Post, A DESPERATE ARTILLERY DUEL A BRILLIANT SUCCESS FOR THE FEDERAL ARMY. JANUARY 11, 1868. JOHN W. FRY, Company H, 42d Ohio. fANUARY 11 was siicri a day as in tlie latitude of Ohio comes sometimes to break tlie gioom of No- vember. The Confeder- ate reveille was blown, clear and shrill, at dawn. The Federal bugles took up the strain, and the eventful day was opened with as tuneful a morning call as ever woke an army to battle. The rebels were at their posts as soon as the growing light made their position visible. Through the center of the isthmus of solid ground, between the swamp and the river, upon which Fort Hindman and the earthworks were built, ran a road. Sherman's corps was ordered to take the right of this, Morgan's corps the left. Admiral Porter with the gunboats was to assail the fort from the river, while the troops should drive the rebels into the forti- fications and carry the works by storm. DeCourcy's brigade was early astir. It had lost more than a third of its numbers at Chickasaw bayou, and General Morgan decided to hold it in reserve that day. General Morgan, with the remainder of his corps, pushed up to the front. He had A. J. Smith's division of two brigades, and Lightburn's brigade of Osterhaus's divis- ion, the other brigade of Osterhaus's division (DeCourcy's) being left to watch the White River road and guard the boats. CAMP AND FIELD. 151 Smith's division was on Morgan's right, joining the left of Sherman's corps, and to the left of Smith, Lindsay, whose line reached to the river. McClernand felt sure of his game and did not force the fighting. He could afford to take the fort scientifically and spare his men. It was preferable to disable the casemate guns, and give the garrison a healthful morning's work before making the assault. All being ready at eleven o'clock, the gunboats engaged the fort at short range. They fired rapidly and with such effect that before noon the nine-inch barbette gun was split and broken away nearly back to the trunnions. Two twenty-pounder Parrotts of Foster's battery were run up behind a large sycamore log on the river bank, three hundred yards from the fort, and sent shells into the em- brasures of the casemates. These two guns were fired with the deliberate accuracy of a sharpshooter, and dismounted and cap- sized a twelve-pounder iron gun during the morning. The other batteries of Morgan and Sherman engaged the field guns behind the parapet, and after a sharp duel, pretty effectually silenced them. An hour of sharp fighting drove the enemy within his works. The assailants were so near also that no further advance could be made without a direct assault. The gunboats were directly under the fort — so near, in fact, that they actually passed and opened a reverse fire upon it. Gen- eral Sherman extended his attack so far around to the right that his line was weakened on the left, and he called for re-en- forcements. Morgan sent him three regiments of Smith's divi- sion, and dispatched a courier to bring up DeCourcy. This veteran brigade on receiving the summons hurried forward and was soon to the front. It was put between Lindsay's brigade and Smith's division. While this was taking place a fierce artillery fire opened from the point across the river. At first it was thought to be a hostile re-enforcement from Little Rock; and Lindsay's guns were trained upon it; but just as they were about to fire, it was discovered that their guns were firing into the fort and along its west front, enfilading the rebel out- works with terrible effect. It was Foster, who had been sent above the night before to intercept any re-enforcements from up the river, and who, after watching the battle some hours, had come down on his own responsibility to take a hand in the finish. His fire set fire to buildings hitherto sheltered by the fort, swept the plain in its rear, and hastened the surrender. 152 CAMP AND FIELB. DeCourcy's assaulting column moved rapidly forward through the brush across the open space in front of the works. The fire that met this advance was vigorous and rapid, but the enemy aimed wildly. They saw the storming column coming from all directions, and knew that further resistance was useless. Suddenly a white flag was run up at the northeastern angle of the fort. The firing suddenly ceased, and DeCourcy's men be- gan to cheer. Then the white flag was pulled down, and a thin scattering volley sputtered along the rebel line. The flag had been unauthorized. The whole Federal line poured in a final broadside, and this proved the finishing stroke of that day's work. Instantly the signals of surrender appeared all along the enemy's line. White handkerchiefs, tufts of cotton, and gray hats were held up on ramrods and bayonets from behind their parapet. The command "Cease firing! " was given, and in a moment all was hushed excepting a few irregular shots far round to the right. The rebels stood up behind their works, and the victorious army gave round after round of such cheers as we hear but once in a lifetime. Five thousand men, with all that was left of the fort and its armament, were unconditionally surrendered after a gallant re- sistance against overwhelming numbers. Soon after dusk, when everything had become quiet, two Confederate regiments, a re-enforcement from Pine Bluff, came marching in and found themselves prisoners of war. They piled their guns and were marched to the river bank, venting their wrath, meanwhile, in the hard and picturesque swearing for which Texas civiliza- tion is distinguished. UNION PRESERVED. FIRST CHECK DRAWN. ^IRST order that the Union must and ''ip'HE first check drawn to send troops shall be preserved. — It was in 1833 forward in defense of the Union that President Andrew Jackson issued in 1861 was given by Hon. Edward the memorable order, " The Union — It Learned, of Greenfield, Mass. Mr. Must and Shall be Preserved " ; and it Learned was at the time visiting the was Admiral Farragut who was sent to Chamber of Commerce of New York, South Carolina by the President to sup- and it was while there that his check port his mandate. for one thousand dollars wais given. 11 j^ood's I^odt at )^fasl7\/ille. A GRAND UNION VICTORY WHICH UTTERLY DE- STROYED AN ARMY. HOW THOMAS'S SOLDIERS SWEPT LHvE A TORNADO OVER THE REBEL WORKS. BY HENRY SHOTWELL, Sth MINNES0T.\. .Tvm^^ji^jjQjyj 3^u jj^jj ^^ Appomattox there was no victon^won by either side more complete than that gained by Thomas over Hood at Nashville. The rebel army was well nigh destroyed — so nearly, indeed, that it ceased to be a factor in the struffo^le. The broken fraginents were o^athered up and sent east to assist in the vain attempt to stay the progress of Sherman northward through the Carolinas, but the fight was all taken out of the discouraged soldiers and they madebutasorrx- showing. The battle of Franklin, which occurred two weeks before Nashville, was a severe blow to Hood's army, and one from which it did not recover. It made all the more easy the victor}^ at Nashville. After the fight at Franklin we scampered to Nashville, where Thomas was collecting his forces for what proved to be the final blow to the rebel army, which we had faced on so many fields. It was important that Thomas should strike quickly. This was realized at Washington and by the people throughout the coun- try. As the days passed and still the two armies lay confronting each other, much impatience was expressed at the delay. It went so far that General John A. Logan started for Nashville with an order in his pocket to relieve Thomas. But there was good rea- son why two weeks slipped away before a movement was made. Everv soldier who was there knows \vhat it was. For davs the 154 CAMP AND FIELD. ground was literally covered with ice, which rendered it impossi- ble to move troops. Horses could not stand upon the slippery surface. Nothing could be done with either cavalry or artillery. Thomas had no alternative but to wait patiently. On the fourteenth of December the weather softened, and orders were promptly issued to attack the enem\' the next morning. There was no general engagement on the fifteenth, but severe fighting occurred at different times and places, as the rebels were forced from all their advanced positions. The advantage of the day's operations all lay with the Union army. The blue-coated soldiers were in high spirits, and their commander, Thomas, awaited with the fullest confidence the coming of the dawn. The sixteenth of December settled forever the fate of Hood's army. The early part of the day was occupied in fighting for position. By the middle of the afternoon the whole armv was ready for the grand assault. McMillen's brigade — Eighth Minne- sota, Ninth and Seventy-second Indiana, Ninety-fifth Ohio and One Hundred and Fourteenth Illinois — was selected to make the initial "break." In the face of a tremendous fire we charged a hill upon which rested the left of the rebel line. Without falter- ing or hesitating a moment the brigade swept the crest, captur- ing a large number of prisoners and more than twenty pieces of artillerv. Fragments of Confederate regiments fied in the wild- est confusion. Our loss was heavy, though not as severe as might have been expected. Before we started upon the charge, Colonel McMillen ordered his men to refrain from cheering and not to fire a shot until the works had been gained. The order \vas obeyed to the letter. It was a most gallant and successful assault. Away to our left, in rear of the Union line, upon a rise of ground commanding a view of the field. General Thomas sat upon his horse, surrounded by generals and staff officers. With their glasses they eagerly watched our movements. Orders had been given all along the line to hold every command in readiness to spring at the signal. As soon as we had carried the hill and the break in the Confederate line was apparent, Thomas turned to the bugler at his side and directed him to sound the charge. Clear and sharp the notes rang out, and they were instantly caught up b\' a hundred other bugles, in all the divisions, brigades and regiments. The men leaped to their feet and the whole line made for the rebel intrenchments. These were formidable for field works, protected by a deep ditch, cheveaux-de-frise, pickets and fallen trees, and surmounted b\^ artillery. As the long blue line moved rapidly forward the enemy opened CAMP AND FIELD. 155 a furious fire with musket and cannon, which for a few minutes was most destructive. It was, however, of brief duration. At the point wdiere McMillen's brigade made the breach in the rebel Hne, the utmost advantage was taken of the enemy's de- moraHzation. Without giving them an instant to recover from their panic, part of our force followed fast upon the heels of the fleeing gray-coats, while another part enfiladed the works with its fire. The panic spread rapidly along the rebel line as one regiment after another "let go" and broke to the rear. The general advance of the Fourth and Twenty-third corps quickly finished the work. At most points the enemy fired but one vol- ley. There was no time to reload. With loud ^xlls, the Union line swept on like a tornado. Every man felt that complete vic- tory was at hand. Everywherethe rebels gave wayin confusion. Over the works leaped the blue-coats, and on they rushed at their utmost speed. The enemy's retreat became a rout. Thousands of Confederates who knew when they had got enough, threw down their arms and surrendered. These included not only sol- diers, but officers of all grades, by the score. It was a great foot-race. Many of the Confederate regiments wholly lost their organization. They were transformed into a mob of terrified men, each looking out for himself Still after them pushed the tritmiphant Union soldiers, filling the air with shouts and yells. At the break the cavalry had been told to "go in," and the troopers dashed upon the fleeing foe, slashing with their sabers and capturing prisoners in droves. It was a furiously wild and exciting scene — one that no participant could forget should he live a thousand years. Nothing could exceed the enthusiasm and impetuosity of our men. Now and then the rebel officers would attempt to rally their soldiers in the hope of checking the onward rush of the victorious army. It was all in vain. A shattered brigade would halt and deliver a feeble, sput- tering fire and then run faster than ever. There w^as necessarily much confusion in the Union army. In such a pursuit it was impossible to preserve even the semblance of an alignment. Each man thought of nothing but to press forward. Some had longer legs than others. If the short fellows didn't get along cjuite so fast it was not their fault ; they all tried hard enough. It was late in the afternoon when the break occurred. The shadows of gathering twilight settled down upon the scene of eighty thousand men chasing and being chased along the roads and through the woods and fields. Miles and miles the pursuit 156 CAMP AND FIELD. was kept up, until darkness came. I have no doubt that the "Johnnies" were as utterly and completely exhausted as we were. At length a halt was ordered. The men had yelled till they were hoarse, but they still kept up the noise as they prepared their suppers. It didn't take much preparation — only to make coffee and toast bacon. Many had little or nothing to eat, hav- ing flung away their blankets and even their haversacks in their all-consuming desire to "get there." But those who had hung on to their supplies shared them with the destitute ones, and all were happy. Around the bivouac fires, till far into the night, they laughed and sung and shouted, and no officer tried to stop the noise. The men had fairly earned the right to yell, and they were permitted to make all the racket the}' wanted to. I have no doubt that the soldiers of the Army of the Cumber- land were especially happy. For three years they had been fight- ing the rebel army, which was now beaten and driven in hopeless rout. They had had with it many a fierce and bloody grapple. Tens of thousands of men had fallen upon either side. AH were weary of the strife. It is no wonder that the followers of the starry flag went well nigh wild with joy. For more than two weeks the pursuit was continued by a large part of General Thomas' army. The weather was wretched be- yond description — cold, raw and rainy. Some of the men had "pup" tents, but thousands were obliged to content themselves with such temporary shelter as the}' could contrive each night, with the aid of brush, straw, cornstalks, rails and such other materials as came to hand. Rations, too, soon became ex- asperatingly short. The roads were wholly impassable, and nothing could reach the troops except the scant supply that could be carried on pack mules. Hardtack almost disappeared. For days the soldiers lived almost entirely upon parched corn. Thev were consoled b}' the thought that the rebels fared no better, with the added misery of knowing that they had been everlastingly whipped. In the Union army not a murmur was heard. Day after day the soldiers went sloshing through the mud with soaked garments, but still they sang and yelled and thought of the end of the war, which it seemed must soon come. "Uncle Billy" Sher- man was somewhere down in the bowels of the Confederacy with sixty thousand men, and everybody had an abiding faith that he and Grant would ere long finish Lee, as we had finished Hood. The battle of Nashville was perfect in both plan and execution. Five thousand prisoners were taken, nearly sixty pieces of artil- lery and twenty-five battle-flags. TP STOPING OF MJIRIE'S RIGHTS. A Tornado of Shot and Shell. GALLANT SCKNES OK HEROISNl. LIVING WALLS SINK BENEATH THE TEBRIBLE FIRE. A DESPERATE STRUGGLE.— A GRAND VICTORY. MAY 3, 1863. H. H. BOWLES, Co. C, 6th Regiment Maine Volunteers. jURING the winter of 1863 there was organized in the Cth Corps what was known as the "light brigade." It was composed of the 6th Me., 5th Wis., 31st and 43d N. Y., and 61st Penn. — all volunteer regiments. These regiments were put under the command of Brig. -Gen. C. L. Pratt, of New York. Their badge was a "green cross," worn upon the cap. On the afternoon of April 29 it was under- stood that we were soon to move, and that evening we broke camp and started for the Rappahannock river. All night long we made pack mules of ourselves, lugging pontoons down to the river, and so quietly was this done, that when we had launched the pontoons no intimation of our doings had reached the enemy across the river. A detachment of our regiment and details from other regiments were ferried across, and captured the rebel pickets on the south bank of the river before they knew what was up. This was about two miles below the city of Fredericksburg. The next morning. May 3, dawned bright and clear, and the thunder of guns told us the battle was on. Our heavy batteries on Stafford Heights commenced shelling the rebel works in a steady and deliberate manner, and, ever and 158 CAMP AND FIELD. anon, shells burst within our own lines. The light brigade marched, by the right flank, up the river and took position di- rectly in the rear of the city, and under Marye's Heights. To the surprise of all, came the news that General Pratt had re- signed and the command of the light brigade had devolved upon Col. Hiram Burnham, of the 6th Me., and that we were soon to assault the heights. Everything was got in read- iness, and that calm which precedes a storm rested for a few moments over the scene. The brigade was formed, as my memory serves me, 5th Wis., Colonel Allen, in advance, with five companies of this regiment as a double line of skirmishers; following the 5th Wis. came the 6th Me., under command of Lieut. -Col. B. F. Harris; on the right was, if I mistake not, the 43d N. Y., and the 31st N. Y., while farther to the right was the 61st Penn., Colonel Spear. Between ten and eleven o'clock the order was given to advance. The gallant Burnham, dis- daining the bugle call, rode down the line, and in stentorian voice gave the order: "Forward!" The command of Colonel Harris to the 6th Me. was: " Boys, we're going to charge those heights yonder, and we're going to take them, too. Arms aport, double quick, march!" And no grander sight was ever seen in the battles of the Army of the Potomac. Steadily the lines swept on over the beautiful green grass, soon to be reddened with the blood of so many of my comrades. The shot and shell flew like missiles from a tornado. The grape and canister hurled through the ranks, cutting great gaps in the living walls. Orders were: "Close up; steady, boys!" and the next time another voice gave the command. A case-shot or shrapnel had exploded at the head of the 61st Penn. regiment, killing Colonel Spear and fifteen men, and for a time throwing the regiment into confusion. We were now on the very ground where the brave Meagher and his noble Irishmen were so fearfully cut up on December 13, 1862. Of the 6th Me., Major Haycock had fallen, shot through the heart, and Captains Gray, Young, Ballenger, Buck, and Roach were down. We had reached the first line of rifle-pits, and the 6th Me. and the 5th Wis. wildly broke over the rifle-pits, carrying all before them, the rebels in this line throwing down their arms and marching to the rear. A few rods further on, just at the foot of the hill, we came to the second line of rifle-pits. Here the fighting was desperate. The Johnnies would not yield a CAMP AND FIELD. 159 foot of ground, and our boys would not turn back. Our line was intact and firm. Although nearly every commissioned officer was killed or wounded, and companies were commanded by sergeants and corporals, the best of discipline prevailed, and the men fought with the courage of despair, maddened by their heavy loss, and the perfidy of the rebels who had surrendered in the first line, and, seeing us temporarily checked, attempted to shoot us from the rear. Men became fiends. The lumber men of Maine and Wisconsin, who had handled pick and spike all their lives on the rivers and log-jams, used their guns in the same manner. Mike Carey, a stalwart Irishman from the town of Topsfield, Me., when he saw the Johnnies breaking, cried out: " Hang Palfrey, boys! hang! boom 'em, damn 'em! boom 'em!" and jumping upon the earthworks he kicked a giant Confederate to the ground and drove his bayonet to the hilt in his breast. Corporal Brown used his gun as a club, and, like a mad demon, brained five men. A wiry little Frenchman, Willet by name, bayoneted man after man, and when implored by a rebel to spare him, for God's sake, cried: " Me know no God; you kill me, me kill you!" And above all this bellowed the guns above our heads, so near now that they could do but little harm. The line swept on, and now up the steep hill and over the escarpment of the stone wall pell-mell. Sergeant Gray, the color sergeant of the 6th, was knocked down and the colors badly shattered and torn. Sergeant Hill, of Co. C, 6th Me., grasped the flag, and springing upon the parapet just as a can- non was discharged, the smoke of which blackened his face, planted the standard firmly in the earth, and the stars and stripes floated gloriously from Marye's Heights, and the day was won. The Washington Battery was captured, and in our immediate front seven hundred men of Barksdale's brigade. The courage and heroism of the 5th Wisconsin in this action was not surpassed by that of any regiment in the field. Colo- nel Allen, badly wounded in the hand, fought like a tiger. Springing through an embrasure, sword in hand, he sabered a gunner at his post and mounted the gun in triumph. The other regiments in the brigade did equally well; and I must not pass by unmentioned the 7th Mass. on our right, under command of the heroic Colonel Johns, who led his men so well. The loss of the 6th Me. was one hundred and thirty-five officers and men, 160 CAMP AND FIELD. and that of the 5th Wis. about the same. Colonel Burnham, Colonel Allen, and Lieutenant-Colonel Harris went with their men up the heights, and were among the first to enter the enemy's works. Comrades, this was the storming of Marye's Heights as I saw it. All honor to you of the 7th Mass., and the Green Mountain boys on our left; but bear in mind this fact: The 6th Me. flag was the first one planted upon the Heights of St. Marye. '*aiii»4^' » ?< ■■■ OUR BRAVKS. By COL. CHAS. CLARKE. (Music, Keller's American Hymn.) O^^LEST be the ground where our Q/Q) braves are at rest, Honored each shrine where our martyrs repose. On through the ages to come shall be bless'd, Those who defended our land from its foes ; Guarded our land from its traitorous foes. Comrades, advance in the East and the West ! Scatter fresh garlands where martyrs repose, Plant the old flag where our braves are at rest ! Blest be this day bringing mem'ries so bright, Thrftughout the length and the breadth of our land. Stout were these hearts who fought stern for the right, B'*ve were the deeds of this strong patriot band. Valiant the heroes of our army grand I Comrades, advance and make sacred this rite. Twine your fresh laurel wreaths over the land, Hallow this day charg'd with mem'ries so bright. Bless thou our nation, thou God of the free. Vouchsafe that liberty our Fathers gave; Guard thou our country from sea unto sea — Soil which our heroes long struggled to save. Land of our sires, and redeemed by the brave. Comrades, this trust keep for millions to be, Ages to come will remember each grave. Cost of our nation so dear, yet so free! Contf derate Generals. BATTliE er RAYfflONB. MAY 12, 1863. How Gregg's Brigade Fought the Advance of Grant's Army in Mississippi. By WILLIAM E. CUNNINGHAM, Captain Company F, 41st Tennessee. HE morning of December 11, 1863, was bright and pleasant. Our men after a march of two hundred miles from Port Hudson, La., were scattered about our camp one mile north of Jackson, Miss. Our march had been tedious, as Grierson's raid a short time before had played sad havoc with the railroad to New Orleans, leaving nothing for fifty miles but the hacked road-bed. The men were in groups about camp or enjoying a cool plunge in the waters of Pearl river, which ran close by. Many were the surmises as to our destination and as to the ob- ject of our march. Many an eye gleamed and brightened as some comrade ventured the prophecy that we were bound for Tennessee, for, with one exception, our brigade was composed of Tennessee regiments. These surmises were cut short by the sharp bugle blast which sounded the assembly. In a few min- utes we were ready, and a, short march brought us to a hill overlooking Jackson. Halting to form, we began the march through the city. The 41st Tenn., Colonel Farquhasson, was followed by the 3d Tenn., Colonel Walker; then came the 10th Tenn, (Irish), Colonel McGavock; the 30th, Colonel Head; the 50th, Colonel Sugg; and the 1st Tenn. Battery, Major Combs, the rear was brought up by Colonel Granbury, 7th Tex., all 162 CAMP AND FIELD, under command of that lamented soldier and gentleman, Gen- eral John Gregg, of Texas. As we moved down the wide road to the strains of "The Girl I Left Behind Me," I glanced back with a feeling of pride in the splendid array of gallant men, nearly all of whom I knew personally or by regiment. The streets and windows were crowded as we marched along, until we passed the depot and took the Raymond road. Raymond is the county seat, although Jackson is the state capital, both being in the same county. We soon met straggling cavalry, who stopped long enough to tell us of a cavalry raid up from Grand Gulf. We had been itching for a fight and could not have been suited better than to meet the raiders. The country was green with growing grain and presented a peaceful, happy, and contented appearance. The citizens met us kindly and wonderingly. No sound of strife had yet reached that retired spot. Early on the morning of the 12th, the town was overrun with soldiers, having what we called a '' high old time." In the midst of fun and feasting the long roll sounded and every man answered promptly. As General Gregg moved through the town, hundreds of people eagerly watched him, little dreaming of the carnage so soon to follow. He formed his command with the right, composed of the 41st Tenn., overlook- ing the Edwards depot road, and at intervals of fifty or one hundred yards successively, with Captain Graves' three-gun battery in the center, on the Grand Gulf road. This battery was supported by the 10th. We were expecting nothing but cavalry, which we felt we could whip. Skirmishers were ad- vanced in the thick black copse, and almost instantly the quiet was broken by the crack of the rifle, answered by the first big gun in our center. Suddenly the sound of the skirmisher's rifle was lost in the roar of musketry, while our three pieces belched defiance at the six gun battery of the enemy on the hill opposite. The force of the enemy was developed suddenly, for from right to left along our front of a mile, the battle opened at close range. At this junction. Colonel McGavock advanced to charge the battery, supported by the 3d. We all saw him as with gallant bearing he led his men forward, capturing four guns. This was as gallant a charge as was ever made against terrible odds. In the moment of success, McGavock fell, shot through the heart. Major Grace took command only to fall from a severe CAMP AND FIELb. 163 wound. The fighting around the battery was bloody in the ex- treme. The 3d moved up in support, and in ten minutes 190 of the 500 men, comprising their number, were killed or w^ounded. By this time the battle along the whole line was raging with incredible fury. At the one hundred and thirteenth round one of Bledsoe's guns burst. Still we held our ground and had pos- session of the captured guns. General Gregg believed that we had encountered something heavier than cavalry, and by ex- amining captured prisoners found that they represented eight- een different regiments. A whole corps was in our front. There was a choice of two things left us — to retreat in the face of such numbers or to wait until we were entirely surrounded. He decided upon a retreat and this we accomplished success- fully, even moving our shattered guns to Mississippi Springs, six miles from the battle-field, where we bivouacked for the night. On our retreat through Raymond, we saw ladies with quilts and bandages tenderly caring for our wounded. They would not leave even after the enemy's shells were flying and crashing through the streets and houses. Mournfully we took up our line of retreat, carrying off our slightly wounded pris- oners to the number of 280. With GOOO men, Gregg had met the advance of Grant's army and had resisted him in a regular battle of eight hours. Our loss was over ten per cent., or 050 men killed and wounded. The history of the war furnishes few instances where the heroic gallantry of Southern soldiers showed to better advantage. After the lapse of years, the memory of Raymond, fought by a single brigade of Confederates against fearful odds, stands out as one of the most remarkable and hard fought battles of the war. Not one of the regimental commanders are now alive, and Gregg himself fought his last fight in front of Petersburg and sleeps with the rest. This fight proved to be the second act in Pemberton's grand drama of the " Fall of Vicksburg." In the Wilderness. — The battle of Remarkable Record.— Company H. the Wilderness was brought on by Gen- 4th Wisconsin, numbering nearly two eral Griffin advancing two brigades, hundred men, served for five years, and Ayres's and Bartlett's, and those two only lost three men by disease, a record brigades first grappled with the brigade said by the Surgeon-General to be with' of rebels under General Heath. out parallel in this or any other war. The Episode of Patrick Connolly. By BET. JOHN F. MOORS, 62d Massachusetts Regiment. FTER we had been in camp several weeks at Baton Rouge, and had received several mails from home, I saw a little Irish fellow, Pat Connolly, looking sad and disconsolate, while the others were reading their freshly received letters. I asked him if he had not re- ceived any letters. He replied: " No. There is no one to write to me. I never had a letter in my life." "Have you no rela- tives?" I asked. "No," he said, ** not one." I learned his story, and took care ever after- ward to have a kind word for him whenever I met him, which he repaid with the af- fection of a warm and gener- ous nature. If when on guard or picket he was able to secure a canteen of milk or some fresh eggs, he was careful to see that the chaplain had a share. On the night after the battle at Irish Bend I secured a length of rail fence for my own use, while the rest was speedily turned into kindling- wood, to cook the coffee. I took off the top rails and laid them over the bottom ones to secure a shelter for the night. When thus employed Pat came up and said he was looking for me, as he had heard I was sick and without any blanket. I was a good deal used up, and my blanket and horse had been left behind and would not be up for a day or two. Pat at once offered to share his blanket with me. I declined, as kindly as I could. Pat was not neat, and I knew that if I accepted his offer to share his blanket, I should have more bed-fellows than I wanted. As I crawled from under the rails next morning, Pat stood by, waiting to offer to carry my haversack. He had his own gun, cartridge-box, knapsack, and haversack to carry. I CAMP AND FIELD. 165 told him we were to have a forced march that day and he must look out for himself. I had nothing but my empty haversack. It was a hard march. At night our horses came up, and I had a blanket to wrap about me as we lay in an open field. The next day I found Pat, as our straggling line made its way over the broad plains of western Louisiana. He had confiscated a horse, which he was leading by a rope; too un- selfish to ride, he had piled as many knapsacks of Co. B men as he could upon the horse, and thus relieved the tired and footsore men of a portion of their burden. At night Pat's horse and the chaplain's were tied side by side, and shared their rations between them, Pat close by as guard to both. The next day came an order to have all confiscated horses turned over to the quar- termaster. I was eager to save Pat's horse for the good he was doing the company in carry- ing their knapsacks. While I was meditating how we could save the horse, the quarter- master rode up and ordered the knapsacks off, and the horse turned over to him. Some one near me called out, "That is the lieutenant- colonel's horse, sir." "Well, let him go then," replied the quartermaster. It was a stretch of the truth, but it was not the only time the truth was stretched all it would bear dur- ing the war. Pat kept his horse through all that long march, and then turned him over to the quartermaster. All went well with Pat till the siege of Port Hudson. On the day before the assault of the 14th of June, Pat was made happy by the arrival of two letters which I had caused to be written to him, one by my wife. He showed them to me with great delight. He passed unscathed through the fierce battle of June 14. The next day as he lay behind a log, near the enemy's works, he thought he saw a head he could hit; he fired, and, in the excitement, popped up his own head to see if he had hit. A dozen bullets flew at him and one struck him in the forehead and killed him instantly. The following night two men crept in to where the body lay. They found in his pockets the cher- ished letters. That was all. They threw a few shovels of earth over the dead body, and that was the last of the good- natured, affectionate, unself- ish, friendless Irish boy, Pat Connolly. There was no one at home to mourn his death. I shall always chferish his mem- ory with tender affection. A SURGEON'S FIRST AND LAST SIGHT OF A BEAUTIFUL SILKEN BANNER. A * Brave * Lover * Buried * with ^^^ tbe * Flag * Upon * His * Breast. JULY 4, 1863. DR. H. L. RUSSELL, Surgeon Alabama Regiment. - ^^t^^ OLONEL ALTON/' said a fair young Alabama lady, ''in behalf of the ladies of this village and vicinity, allow me to present to the regiment, through you, this silken emblem of our country, made by our own hands, a fitting tribute to the valor displayed in the uprising of the regi- ment to protect our homes." "Ladies," responded the colonel, "in behalf of the regiment I thank you. Trust me, the flag will be held sacred by us all, and we will protect it with our lives, ever looking forward hopefully to the time when, our mission accomplished, we can with honor bring it back again to Alabama." " Now," said the colonel, "who among us considers this flag worth his life and will volunteer to carry it?" It seemed as if there was a forward movement of the whole regiment, but like a flash of light, in front of all stepped a young man, the finest type of Southern manly beauty that I ever saw. " Colonel Alton," he exclaimed, " let me carry the flag." The young lady stepped quickly forward and touched the colonel lightly on the arm. "Please let Louis have it," she pleaded; "I know he will be worthy of the trust." " Well, so be it," replied the colonel, as taking Louis Peyton's musket he returned in its place the staff of the beautiful banner. Engagement followed engagement, but no man looked in vain for his colors. Always at the front, cool and determined, stood our color-bearer, and as one after another of the color- CAMP AND FIELD. 167 guard were brought back I began to think that Louis Peyton bore a charmed Ufe. July 4, 1863. What a day for history! Vicksburg, Gettys- burg, Helena, the first of a downward grade of disaster, the end of which was Appomattox. It was extremely necessary, owing to the fact that Vicksburg and Port Hudson were doomed, that some other point on the Mississippi should be held by the Confederates or else the Confederacy would be cut in twain. So we were marching to attack Helena, a fortified position on the west bank of the Mississippi, held by about 4,500 Federals under General Prentiss, while the Confederate commands un- der Generals Price and Holmes were considerably above that number. Anticipating an easy victory, as our scouts had re- ported the river free from gunboats, we pressed close to the Federal position on the night of the 3d, and at daybreak, the 4th, commenced the attack. A fog had formed in the night, shutting the river from our view, but it gradually disappeared, and we beheld upon the stream one of our most powerful enemies, the famous gunboat Taylor, whose terrible rain of shot and shell forced the Confed- erate reserves from the field, and destroyed Beauregard's great charge in the first day's fight at Shiloh. She roared this day, and every roar of her guns meant death in our ranks; 050 shots in two hours and a half she poured into the ranks of the gray. Neither iron nor steel, let alone fiesh and blood, could stand that terrible fire. After several unsuccessful attempts to hold captured posi- tions on the left, my regiment, with others, were ordered to charge a battery situated upon a hill, the key of the Federal position, in hopes to turn the guns against the boat. The men advanced quickly out on the grassy clearing, which sloped gently downward into a narrow valley, then rose again to the battery. As with wild cheers they went, the fire of every available point was brought to bear upon them. Boom! boom! whiz-z, bl-bloop, the terrible shells from the gunboat tear through the ranks of gray, but still they go on. The air is filled with shrapnel from bursting shells. The gunboat's sides fairly blaze with fire; still the gray ranks waver not. They have reached the valley, are ascending the hill; once within the 168 CAMP AND FIELD. battery they are secure from the gunboat's shells, and they press grimly on. I watched the scene with fearful interest, and noted how steadily the colors moved, and I thought of Louis Peyton, and felt grateful that his anxious lover in Alabama could not see him there. A moment more and I beheld him at the parapet, and in spite of all the endeavors to prevent it I saw the colors pass over the wall, and then there came to my ears the curses, yells, and cheers of a hand-to-hand fight. I noticed the Stars and Stripes fall to the ground, but only for a moment. Through the rift of smoke I saw it again held aloft by its brave defenders, who rallied around their beautiful banner and fought on. A regiment of Federal cavalry, stationed close to the river, dismounted and leaving their horses to the care of a few, started up a steep, narrow path, leading to the battery, and with surprising coolness entered the battery, and were soon engaged in the death grapple. It was but a few moments until the Confederates broke over the parapet in retreat. As the mass reached the open space again, I saw the colors of our regiment, but in an instant they vanished. Boom, boom, boom, the terrible shells crash through struggling mass of gray, and in the intervals between the bursting of the shells I heard the bursting of the grapeshot and saw the dead fall in windrows, obstructing the living. In that terrible scene our colors re- appeared for an instant and then went down. In the maddening rush that followed I was carried from the field. Being in the rear, I soon found myself a prisoner to the Fed- eral cavalry, and in looking up to the officer, was agreeably surprised to hear my name spoken, and to recognize an old college friend. A quick grasp of the hand, a few kind words, and I started for the Federal lines under escort. I asked per- mission to go upon the field to assist in alleviating the suffer- ing of the wounded, which request was granted. With little difficulty I reached the "Valley of Death," finding to my in- tense satisfaction a number of Confederate surgeons, like my- self, bent on aiding suffering humanity. Stumbling along, looking for those to help, I heard my name called by a brother surgeon. I hastened to his side. "Here is your color-bearer!" he exclaimed, pointing to a prostrate form, which I instantly recognized as Louis Peyton. CAMP AND FIELD. 169 But what a change! The silken flag he had so proudly carried lay upon his breast, torn into such small strips a finger would cover any one of them. A burly dead Confederate soldier lay across his limbs, which we found were both shattered by grape- shot. A quick examination revealed a slight movement of the heart, and quick as thought I put my brandy flask to his lips. His eyes opened, slowly, wearily; looking at me the old light seemed to spring to their orbits again. He struggled to speak, and bending low I listened. " Doc — Doc — the colors — Doc," he hoarsely whispered. "Yes, Louis, the colors are here," I replied. " Don't— let— them— take it— Doc." " No, Louis, they will not take it," I answered. '' I — tore it — Doc — tell — the girls — that — I — I — " and with a smile he closed his eyes on this world, and the grim ranks of death had taken in our color-bearer. In a short time I found my friend, the Federal officer, and taking him to the body, I told him the story of the flag. Leav- ing me abruptly, he soon returned with a burial party, and although they were burying the Confederate dead in the trenches, they gave our color-bearer single burial, leaving his flag upon his breast as they found it, excepting two pieces that I sent home to Alabama. DKCORATION DAY. CJ^LOWERS for the feet of Peace, ^^ Sweet rose and lily •white, °6~^ As she retreads the road, The blood-red road of fight ; The waving corn and wheat For the long, hot lanes of war : For bastions fringed with tiame, The light of Freedom's star. Flowers for the resting brave ! So every grave shall be An altar fresh and green Sacred to Liberty, An altar green and sweet For the true heart beneath — For each the rose of love, For each the laurel wreath. Peace, peace, and sweetest fame 'O'er all the land to-day ! No anger and no blame Between the Blue and Gray. To you, heroic dead, Resting in dreamless calm, We bring the rose of love. The victor's stainless palm. LiBBY's Bright Side. A Silver Lining in the Dark Cloud of Prison Life. A Reduced Fac-Simile Hand Bill of a Famous Christmas Entertainment. Pastimes and Amusements. By FRANK E. MORAN, Captain 73d N. Y. Volunteers. "^— 2*^-«^ ^^^HE popular belief concerning Libby prison is, that it •fV^ was a gloomy dungeon, where social pleasure never en- 'u^^^ tered, and where horrors accumulated upon horror's head. A full and fair investigation will establish the fact that this popular conception is erroneous to a considerable degree, and it is my present purpose to bring to light a few of the pleasures of the place. I shall not attempt to present them in symmetrical order, but to give them as they arise in memory, after the lapse of years. If what I shall recall partakes somewhat after the nature of a personal recollection, it must be remembered that every prisoner had a personal experience that materially dif- fered from that of his comrade. It was my misfortune to fall wounded into the hands of the Confederates in the battle of Gettysburg, and to remain a prisoner for twenty months. The first part of the time was spent in Libby prison and the remainder of the time in Macon, Ga., and at Charleston and Columbia, S. C. Having been captured the second day of the battle of Gettysburg, I witnessed the final struggle from behind the Confederate line, and was directly in the rear of Pickett's division when its mag- nificent charge was made to break the Union left center. A column of prisoners accompanied the retreat of the Confeder- ate army, crossing the swollen Potomac at Williamsport in a torrent of rain. Our route toward Richmond was through the CAMP AND FIELD. 171 devastated valley of the Shenandoah, our journey on foot being not much less than two hundred miles. The column arrived in Richmond on July 18, 18G3, and we were conducted under guard toward the southeastern border of the city, followed by a boisterous mob of men, women, and children. We halted in front of an antiquated building, over the office of which there creaked upon rusty hinges a small weather-beaten sign, bearing the inscription, " Libby & Sons, Ship Chandlers and Grocers." The man Libby was a native of Maine, who, prior to the war, owned and occupied the premises, never dreaming that the modest sign — scarcely larger than a washboard — would be the means of linking his name forever w^ith the most noted of military prisons, and withal the most interesting landmark of the rebellion. The building had a frontage from east to west of 145 feet, and a depth from north to south of 105 feet. It stood isolated from other buildings, with streets passing its front, rear, and west ends, and with a vacant space on the east of about sixty feet in width. The portion of the building devoted to the use of the prisoners consisted of nine rooms, each 10:i feet in length by forty-five feet in breadth. The ceil- ing was eight feet high, except in the upper rooms, which were higher, better lighted, and better ventilated, owing to the pitch of the roof. Rickety, unbanistered stairs led from the lower to the upper rooms, and all the rooms of the upper floors were connected by doors, leaving free access from one to the other. With the exception of a few rude bunks and tables in the upper and lower west rooms, which were respectively termed "Streight's room" and " Milroy's room," and four long tables in the lower middle or "kitchen room," there was no furniture in the prison. The north windows commanded a partial view of the hilly portion of the city. From the east the prisoners could look off toward the Rocketts and City Point. The south windows looked out upon the canal and James river, with Man- chester opposite and Belle Isle, while from the windows of the upper west room could be seen Castle Thunder, Jefferson Davis's mansion, and the Confederate capital, Libby prison was a vast museum of human character, where the chances of war had brought into close communion every type and temperament; where military rank was wholly ig- nored, and all shared a common lot. At the time referred to, 172 CAMP AND FIELD. there were about 1200 Union officers there, of all ranks, and representing every loyal state. They were not men who woulci have sought each other's society from natural or social affinity, but men who had been involuntarily forced together by the fortunes of war, which, like politics, often *' makes strange bed- fellows," There were men of all sizes and nationalities. Youth and age, and titled men of Europe, who had enlisted in our cause, might be found among the captives. There were about thirty doctors, as many ministers, a score of journalists and lawyers, a few actors, and a proportionate representation from all trades and professions that engage men in civil life. Among them were travelers and scholars, who had seen the world, and could entertain audiences for hours with narratives of their journeyings; indeed, among the attractions of the prison was the pleasure derived by intimate association with men of bright and cultured minds; men who had often led their squadrons on the tough edge of battle and who in their history presented the best types of modern chivalry. It was indeed a remarkable gathering and the circumstances are not likely to arise that will reassemble its counterpart again in this generation. All in all, Libby prison, from the vast mixture of its inmates, and from all its peculiar surroundings, was doubt- less the best school of human nature ever seen in this country. It will not seem strange, therefore, that men of such varied talents, tastes, and dispositions, shipwrecked in this peculiar manner, should begin to devise ways and means to turn the tedious hours of prison life to some account. To this end meet- ings and consultations were held to set on foot amusements and instruction for the prisoners. A minstrel troupe was organized, and its talent would com- pare favorably with some professional companies of to-day. A number of musical instruments were purchased, forming a re- spectable orchestra. Refreshing music often enlivened the place when the weary- souled prisoner had laid down for the night. If there ever was a time and place when that old melody, '* Home Sweet Home," touched the tenderest chords of the soldier's heart, it was on Christmas Eve of 1863, behind the barred windows of Libby prison. Chess, checkers, cards, or such other games occupied much of our time. Some busied themselves with making bone rings or ornaments, many of them carved with exquisite skill. CAMP AND FIT^LD. 173 In the upper east room General Di Cesnola — then colonel of the 4th N. Y. Cavalry — instructed a class of officers in the school of the battalion. In the upper east room Colonel Cavuda, of the 114th Penn., wrote his book afterwards published and widely read, entitled '' Libby Life." The dream of his life was to free his native island from Spanish rule. At every hour of the day learned linguists taught classes in French, German, Spanish, and all popular languages. Phonography was taught as well as grammar, arithmetic, and other branches. A book in Libby was the object of immeasurable envy, and I remem- ber on seeing an officer with Hugo's " Les Miserables," I sought out the owner, put my name down on his list of applicants to borrow it, and my turn came six months afterwards. Dancing was among the accomplishments taught, and it was truly refreshing to see grave colonels tripping the "light fantastic," Under the ministers daily and nightly prayer meetings were held. It was not infrequent to see a lively breakdown at one end of the room and a prayer meeting at the other; to hear the loud tum of the banjo mingling with the solemn melody of the doxology. The doctors endeavored to enlighten audiences by occasional lectures on "Gunshot Wounds," "Amputation," "The effect of starvation on the human system," and other cheerful topics. Gen. Neal Dow, of Maine, eloquently warned his fellow pris- oners against the blighting evils of intemperance. While the general was a prisoner his cotton mill at Portland was burned, and one of the Richmond papers copying the news substituted for "mills" the word "distillery," a cruel joke on the earnest general. A debating society was formed, and all manner of subjects were discussed, bringing to light a goodly number of eloquent speakers, who have since achieved fortune and dis- tinction throughout the country. A form of amusement at night when the lights were out was what was termed the "catechism," which consisted of loud questions and answers, mimicries and cries, which when combined and in full blast, made a pandemonium, compared with which a madhouse or a boiler foundry would have been a peaceful refuge. Such cries as " Tead, of Reading! " " Pack up! " " Who broke the big rope?" "Who stole Mosby's hash?" and "Who shaved the nigger of the truck?" were as intelligible as Choctaw to the uninitiated, but plain enough to those who 174 CAMP AND FIELD. used them, alluding as they did to events and persons of the prison. At night the prisoners covered the floor completely, lying in straight rows like prostrate lines of battle, and when one rolled over all must necessarily do the same. It was inevitable that among such large numbers there should appear the usual inflic- tion of snorers, whose discord at times drew a terrific broadside of boots, tin cans, and other convenient missiles, which invari- ably struck the wrong man. Among our number was one officer whose habit of grinding his teeth secured him a larger share of room at night than was commonly allowed to a pris- oner, and his comrades hoped that a special exchange might restore him to his family ; for certainly he was a man that would be missed wherever he had lodged. On a memorable night when this gentleman was entertaining us with his " tooth solo," one comrade who had been kept awake for the three previous nights, after repeatedly shouting to the nocturnal minstrel to "shut up," arose in wrath, and, picking his steps in the dark among his prostrate comrades, arrived at last near a form which he felt certain was that of the disturber of the peace. With one mighty effort, he bestowed a kick in the ribs of the victim, and hurriedly retreated to his place. Then arose the kicked officer, wlio was not the grinder at all, and made an address to his invisible assailant, employing terms and vigorous adjectives not seen in the New Testament, vehemently declar- ing in a brilliant peroration that it was enough to be com- pelled to spend wakeful nights beside a man who made nights hideous with serenades, without being kicked for him. He resumed his bed amid thunderous applause, during which the grinder was awakened and was for the first time made aware of the cause of the enthusiasm. The spirit of Yankee enterprise was well illustrated by the publication of a newspaper by the energetic chaplain of a New York regiment. It was entitled The Libby Prison Chronicle. True, there were no printing facilities at hand, but, undaunted by this difficulty, the editor obtained and distributed quantities of manuscript paper among the prisoners who were leaders in their several professions, so that there was soon organized an extensive corps of able correspondents, local reporters, poets, punsters, and witty paragraphers, that gave the Chronicle a pronounced success. Pursuant to previous announcement, the CAMP AND FIELD. 175 "■ editor "' on a stated day each "week, would take up his posi- tion in the center of the upper east room, and, surrounded by an audience limited only by the available space, would read the articles contributed during the week, " The Prison Minstrels" were deservedly popular. The troupe was organized and governed by strictly professional rules. Nothing but the possession and display of positive mucical or dramatic talent could com- mand prominence, and as a natural consequence it was a common occurrence to see a second lieutenant carrying off the honors of the play, and the colonel of his regiment carry- ing off the chairs as a "supe." Our elephant, by the way, de- serves especial mention, not only because of his peculiar construction, but because both intellectually and physically he differed from all elephants we had previously seen. The animal was composed of four United States officers, which certainly gave him unusual rank. One leg was a major, a second a naval officer, a third a captain of cavalry, and the last leg was by the happy thought of the astute manager an army surgeon, A quantity of straw formed the body; the tusks and trunk were impro- vised from the meager re- PRISON MINSTRELS! Managek, .... i,t. G. \V. Chandler Thkasi KER, - - - . dipt. II. W.Siwyer Co.sTiMRH, Lt. .].]'.. Tones ScF.MC AuTisT, Lt. Fentress ('APTAiN iiF THE Supers, - - - Lt. Bristow THURSDAY EVENING, DEO. 24th, 1863. PROQRAMNIE, PART FIRST, Overture— "Norma" Troupe Opening Chokus— "Ernani" Teoupe Song— Who will care for Mother now . ("APT. SCHELL Song— Grafte'l ni tlie Army . Libit. Kendall Song— When the 151oom is on the Kye . Adjt. Lombard Song— Piani-yaid Imitations . . . Capt. Mass Song— III) tlirv think of me at Home Adjt. Jones Chorus— rhanloni '1'roupe PART SECOND. Duet— Violin and Flute— Serenade from "Lucia," Lienis. Chandler and Rockwell Song and Dance— Root Hog or Die . Capt. Mass Ban]0 Solo Lieut. Thomas Duet— Dying Girl's Last Kerinest Adjts. Loniliard and .Tones Magic Violin. Capts. Mass, Chandli r nnd Ki'ndall Song— My Father's Custom . . Lieut. .McCaidley Clog Dance Lieut. l!yan -II II /f-ii/r^o Joe Skimmerhorn Capt. Mass George Iverson Lt. Randolph PART THIRD. Proprietor Capt. JIass I5oY Lt. Randolph Countryman Maj. Meiper -Maxacei: Ad.it. Jones Door-Keeper Capt. Mass JlrsiciAN Lt. Chandler Member of the Press Lt. Ryan JIosE Lt. Welsh Black Swan Lt. JIoran Broadway Swell Lt. Bennett Richard III Capt. McWilliams THE WHOLE TO CONCLUDE WITH A %'*'*<'*^ ^^^'^-^ rforniance to commence at C o'clock.«gQ FREE-CMldren in Arms Not Admitted. Adjt. R. c. kna(;gs, Business Agent. 176 CAMP AND FIELD. sources of our "property room." The whole was covered in- geniously by five army blankets. Indeed the elephant, seen by the "footlights'" (four candles set in bottles), was pronounced by the critics of The Libby Prison Chronicle "a masterpiece of stage mechanism." It happened one evening when it was determined to compli- ment the efficient management with a rousing benefit, that two officers, whose duty it was to impersonate the hind legs of the elephant, were unable to appear on account of sudden illness, and their places had to be filled at the last moment by two other officers, who volunteered for the emergency. This was an acknowledged kindness on the part of the volunteers, but their acceptance of the parts without sufficient rehearsal proved exceedingly embarrassing to the management and positively disastrous to the elephant himself, or, to speak more accurately, to themselves. At the appointed time the elephant appeared, his entree being greeted with the usual round of applause. In spite of the lack of preparation the wonderful tricks of the animal were very creditably performed and enthusiastically recogrfized by the crowded house. The anxious manager was happy as he gave the signal at last for exit. Most unfortunately at this vital moment certain strange convulsive actions of the animal revealed the painful fact that a positive difference of opinion existed between the fore and hind legs of the animal as at which side of the stage the exit should be made. In vain the perspiring manager hissed from the wings: "To the right, gen- tlemen! For God's sake, go to the right! " A murmur of excite- ment ran through the audience, the convulsions of the animal grew more and more violent, and excited people in the audience shouted loudly: "The elephant's got a fit!" "The monster is poisoned!" "Play the hose on him!" "Down in front!" "Police!" A perfect babel ensued, in the midst of which the seams of the blanket gave way and the shrieking audience witnessed the extraordinary spectacle of an elephant walking off in four different directions, each leg fiercely gesticulating at the other and exchanging epithets more pungent than par- liamentary. The despairing manager had no alternative but to ring down the curtain, but in his excitement he pulled the wrong rope, the sky fell down on the heads of the orchestra, and the show ended for the evening. The stage was at the northern end of the kitchen, and was formed by joining four CAMP AND FIELD. 177 long tables. The curtain was made of army blankets sewed together, and was suspended by small rings to a horizontal wire over the heads of the orchestra. It could be drawn to- gether and apart at the manager's signal bell. One of the best performances given was on Christmas Eve, 1863. That night the room was crowded with men who felt a homesickness that needed some mental physic such as we pro- posed to give. It was a time for thoughts of wives, children, and sweethearts at the North, and perhaps our play did them good. Programmes, neatly printed in the prison, from which a reduced fac-simile has been made, were freely circulated. The most exciting event in the prison's history was the famous tunnel escape, February, 1864, by which 110 of the prisoners gained their liberty — or rather about half of them — fifty of the number being retaken outside the Richmond works, the writer being one of those recaptured. The tunnel was certainly an ingenious and perilous work, projected and completed under the direction of Col. Thomas E. Rose, of the 77tli Penn. Regt., who escaped through it, but was unfortunately retaken. Considerable excitement was caused by the arrival of a woman at Libby in the uniform of a Union soldier, she having been discovered among the prisoners on Belle Isle in an almost frozen and famished condition. Inquiry revealed the fact that she had in this garb enlisted in a Western cavalry regiment in order to follow the fortunes of her lover, who was an officer in another company of the same command. In a skirmish in East Tennessee, she had the ill luck to be made a prisoner. Her case naturally awakened active sympa- thy amongst hot fellow prisoners, and a collection of money was made by them to i^rocure her a supply of clothing, so that she might be sent home by the next flag of truce. It would fill an interesting volume to sketch briefly the lives and experience of the men who have been within the walls of Libby or to trace their career since. Many have since fallen upon the battle field, and a sad number have died from the effects of their long imprisonment. Some have since become the governors of states and some have held seats in the Cabinet. Their voices have been heard in Congress, at the bar, and in the pulpit, and their names will remain a proud heritage to their children and their country. Battle of Vicksburg. MAY 22, 1868. •eroie « ©fieir^e: # of # tfie # |st ^ Brigade. MINIE. GRAPE, CANISTER. AND SHELL.— A SCORCHING SHEET OF FLAME. C. I). nOKUIS. ronipaiiT E, S3d Illinois. HE "^'Ai of ;May. 1803, is a dark spot in the memory of many, and there is scarcely one of the old guard who either does not carry a reminder of it on his person or points to that fatal day as the last on earth of some cherished comrade. Carr's division liad hot work on the 21st in mov- ing into position near the railroad. Every move was greeted with storms of grape and canister and the ever-present song of the minie. The 1st Brig- ade, consisting of the ood 111., Stli and 11th Ind., ■""- and 99th 111., commanded by Brigadier-General Benton, was moved up to within three hundred yards of the enemy's works the evening of the '21st. and passed the night under the shelter of an abrupt hill. We had muskets as bed-fellows, and empty stomachs and full cartridge-boxes, with which to dream of the morrow. Those of us who had been sharpshooting until day- light of the 32d knew something of what was before us, and when another company came and relieved us at dawn of the 22d, so that we might lead the charge that day. the gallant Major Elliott said that he appreciated the compliment, but that many a brave boy would fall that day. A spirit of solemnity seemed to pervade the brigade as it massed in view of the enemy. Men congregated in little groups conversing in un- dertones. Letters conveving a last farewell were hurriedlv CAMP AND FIELD. 179 written, messages and keepsakes were given to comrades by those who knew this was to be their last charge. Yet they did not hesitate; and to my personal knowledge their sad presenti- ment was verified in almost every case. Officers, outwardly calm, moved aimlessly ah)out, anxiously consulting their time- pieces. Aides from brigade headquarters came and went, run- ning the gantlet, and dodging the shells that came shrieking down the ravines. As the hour of ten drew nigh the four colo- nels — Lippencott of the 3'Sd, Washburneof the 18th, Schenck of the Sth, and Baily of the 99th — held a consultation, and, to see who should lead the brigade, cast lots for position. It was won by Colonel Baily of the 09th; the 33d next, then the 18th and Sth. Our artillery were emptying their limber-boxes as fast as muscle and powder could do it, and as the decisive moment ap- proached, it seemed as though their exertions were redoubled, and that the sulphurous blast of flame and smoke, and the mur- derous roar would stifle and crush us. Men sprang to their feet, grasping their nmskets with a grip of iron. Officers tightened their belts, and in quick, fiery words gave the com- mand. "Fall in!" In an instant the brazen mouths that for three hours had spoken, were for the first time, silent. The men forming Grant's army crouched with nerves of steel, ready to spring upon their foe. They came as conquerors, and were anxious to try issues with their enemy, even in his stronghold. Colonel Baily — divested of coat and vest, and with arms bared to the elbow — sprang to the head of his regiment, and with the single word, "Forward I" sent the hot blood tingling through our veins. The hour of nervous waiting — the hardest part to bear in patience — was over. Our course was around the base of a hill and up by the right flank, through a narrow defile, until the crest was nearly reached, and there, as we swung into line, not one hundred yards away, burst a withering, scorching sheet of flame, unmerciful in its intensity, sent forth by desperate men. Hundreds went down. The gallant Baily fell grievously wounded. The 99th could go no further. The 33d, charging over the same ground, fared not even so well, for as we came into line the same fearful l)last struck and virt- ually annihilated us; for in that day's work, out of nearly sixty men there were only seven or eight to report for duty the next morning, and some of these were bruised and wounded. The 18th and 8tli, coming up quickly, met much the 180 CAMP AND FIELD, same fate; some of them, with scattering ones from the two preceding regiments, turned to the right, and Colonel Wash- burne, of the 18th, found partial shelter in an angle of their works, and there, with the missiles of death raining around, the hot sun pouring down, amidst the wail of the wounded, the fierce yell of the victors, the incessant roar of musketry, we kept them down in our front; death stared us in the face if we remained or if we attempted to get down. Some of our colors were planted on the walls of the fort. Washburne's ringing voice could be heard above the din, shouting encouragement to us. McClernand, away in the rear, called loudly on Grant for help. We knew it was madness to send men there. Grant, as near to us as McClernand, thought as much. The rebel rifle-pits to our left could fire upon us, and every now and then some poor fellow would go down. The terrors of that day made men grow old. The appeal for help was answered. Boomer's brigade attempted to reach us, but they could get no nearer than two hundred yards. Boomer himself was killed. We then knew to stay longer was useless, and so, one by one, we stole away, running the gantlet for life and liberty. No one can describe that terrible day. Individual deeds of heroism would fill a volume. RELIEVED BY THE REBELS. H. H. BOWLES, Company C, 6th Maine. {N the affair at Salem Church, where called in. In fact part of the line was the 6th Corps was nearly surrounded captured. Just at this time General and came near being captured, Colo- Sedgwick, seeing Colonel Ellmaker, nel EUmaker, of the 119tli Penn., was hastily rode up to him and impatiently ordered to take his regiment out to the demanded : — front as pickets or videttes and to stay " Colonel Ellmaker, who relieved you? thei'e till relieved. It soon became who relieved you, sir?" evident that to hold position was no " Rebels, sir," was the laconic re- longer to be thought of, and that to joinder of hero of the 119th. Sedgwick save capture the regiment must be turned and rode away in silence. THE PLYMOUTH PILGRIMS. HOW THEY WERE CAPTURED. APRIL 20, 1864. ROBERT P. BLACK, Co, E, 103 P, V. V. (Plymouth Pilgrim). 't> :: LAIN K". DENISON, Providence, R. I.— s |HEN from our hills the slogan rang, Quick to the call brave Logan sprang, For law and Jiberty ; His statesman's robe he laid aside To breast rebellion's bloody tide, To save our land, or die. The best was native in his blood To battle for our brotherhood ; Intense his love for right ; All bonds of party and of clan Gave way before the mightier man ; He knew but Freedom's fight. Nor braver soldier bore a gun, Amid the carnage of Bull Run ; E'en so upon Belmont, Fort Henry, Donelson, and fields A score, mid blood-wet swords and shields, He dauntless held the front. In him oppression found a foe, To honest deal firm word and blow, Until it humbly kneeled ; Then warmly was outstretched his hand, Broad over all our ransomed land, That woundings might be healed. Among the brave Grand Army host, He held the fii"st commanding post— An honor well deserved ; Devoted to the common good, In every public place he stood With loyalty unswerved. To all the leaders that we scan — Grant, Lincoln, Sherman, Sheridan — His soul was closely wove ; Unselfish, fearless, ever true. Elect among the deathless few, Shrined in our country's love. In field and forum, still the same, Unmoved alike by praise or blame, His nobleness confessed ; His record full, secure in fame, Our nation will revere his name, Aloft among her best. BATTLE AND ASSAULT AT PLAINS STORE AND PORT HUDSON. §8w ili Beeig U@ be SfeFMsl^ ^Y ^i Bullet THE 49th MASSACHUSETTS AND ITS BRAVE DEEDS IN LOUISIANA. May 27, 1863. By COL. SAMUEL B. SUMNER, 49th Massachusetts Volunteers. J^HURSDAY, May 2G, volunteers were called for for a storming party on the rebel works at Port Hud- son. Major Plunkett, Lieutenants Sherman and Siggins and about fifty others from the 49tli at once responded. Other regiments furnished vol- unteers in proportion, so that the required quota was speedily forthcoming. This day was mainly devoted to organizing the storming party, half of whom were to carry muskets and half facines — bundles of saplings five or six feet long — to be thrown into the ditch in front of the works to make a passage for troops and artillery. Lieutenant Colonel O'Brien, of the 48th Mass., was selected to command this forlorn hope. The night of May 26 was employed in lively preparation and hasty thoughts, and writing hasty messages home. May 27, we were early in the line, and an aide-de-camp, riding along, exclaimed, "You will make history to-day !" We soon filed into some woods, out of sight of the enemy, over and through which shot and shell were rushing in a style decidedly promiscuous. Colonel Bartlett, of the 49th Mass., sat pale and collected astride his steed, as with his artificial limb, he must needs go into the coming fray mounted or not at all. At last the supreme moment came, and we marched through the woods till we reached the open, where the familiar order 186 CAMP AND FIELD. was given, " On the right, by file, into linel" When the rebs saw that order executed, they knew well that the next move would be forward. We found ourselves confronted with an abatis between us and their fortifications. Charging at double- quick was out of the question, but it was remarkable how well we managed for some distance to preserve our line, which, however, was broken up soon enough by our antagonists. They opened a most determined fire of shot, shell, and shrapnel, with every projectile then known in the art of war. A rattling thunder-storm and hurricane, and an accompanying conflagra- tion, I consider the nearest resemblance to it which the unini- tiated can imagine. Who shall understand who has not heard it, the unearthly moan and shriek of the shell, and the zip-zip of musketry, as if a myriad of wood-choppers were swinging their axes in that prostrate forest! It became wofully apparent that we should never reach the parapet, or the moat for which our fascines were intended. Colonel Chapin, commanding our brigade, dashed passed us, waving his sword. A few minutes later he was shot through the head. Lieutenant Deming of the 49th was at about the same instant killed by a bullet crashing through his brain. All at once a glance at my left showed Col- onel Bartlett reeling in his saddle. My place was then in the rear of the colors. A moment later and it seemed to me that I was stricken by something of the size of a brick-bat, in the left shoulder. The sensation was not so acute as stunning. I put my hand between my fatigue coat and vest, and drew it away to find it dabbled in blood. I pushed for the nearest refuge of a fallen tree, where others almost immediately sought the same protection. The 2d Louisiana (a Federal regiment recruited by northern officers) marched over us as we lay there, but did not succeed in ad- vancing far beyond our outpost. After a while the firing in our immediate front slackened somewhat, and we could see that the rebels were turning their attention to General Sher- man's division on our left. After great work and effort we at last reached the woods from which we had sallied, and measurably out of range of sharpshooters. There I remember being hastily examined by a surgeon, and placed upon a stretcher, and carried to the surgeon's quarters of the 49th. Almost the first person I recog- nized there was Colonel Bartlett, who lay at the foot of a tree CAMP AND FIELD. 187 Avitli his arm in a sliiig and his head bound up with strips like so many lines of latitude and longitude. Next morning, May 38, several of us were assisted to our feet and braced up to gaze upon the familiar forms of our dead which had been brought in during the night. They were the men who, in full life, had waded with us the afternoon before into that sea of blood. I cannot call the roll. Our loss had been sixteen killed outright, and sixty-four wounded, many fatally. The assault had failed and nothing now remained but the slow process of a siege, to which at last, the garrison suc- cumbed. * -•^■•B^- r-iQJ iee ^HfsFfeuFicite Fugitives. FRANK E. MORAN, Captain Company H, 73d New Tork Volunteers. ^^v^cv^^vv^■v^^c\^.'CV^■v^x^^^\vv^^x\^"V^\■v^\•v^.x\\x\■ i \ \ I = = = =^^ = x,xxv^\\x\\x\\x\\vn.\x\'JVv\xv\x\xx\\vvx\nx\\x\\\ |HE bold plan of escaping from Libby by digging a tun- nel was conceived by Col. Thomas E. Rose, of the 77th Penn. Regt., in November, '63, and he was the director and supervisor of this perilous work. He was a brainy, cool, and intrepid man, coined for just such a daring enterprise. At the time of the escape, there were not less than 1,000 Union officers confined in Libby, and "Rose" selected from among them, fourteen men, sworn to secrecy, as the working party. Absolute secrecy was considered essential to success, as the Confederates frequently sent spies disguised as Union prisoners among us to get information of any contemplated es- cape. The work of the tunnelers occupied the greater part of four months, day and night; the implements used being a com- mon table knife, a broken trowel, and a small wooden spittoon, with a blanket rope attached. The dirt was hidden under straw in the east cellar, from which the hole, about two feet in diame- ter, began. The tunnel passing under the sentinel's feet crossed a vacant lot and terminated at the surface in a stable yard, about seventy feet outside the prison wall. The men were baffled in their first beginning by contact with a large rock and with foundation timbers. Again, it was at- tempted to effect an opening into the main sewer on the canal 198 CAMP AND FIELD. side of the prison ; but after a prodigious labor of many days and nights, water began to ooze in, finally coming with a rush that threatened to drown the fourtunnelers and reveal the plot. After great efforts in plugging it, this tunnel was reluctantly given up — a severe misfortune, for this tunnel (so much more roomy than the one through which the escape was finalh'" made) would have emptied the prison in three hours. The last and successful tunnel was dug several feet above the bed of the cellar in the east wall. To effect an opening- through the thick foundation wall was a work worthy of the proverbial patience of beavers, considering the feeble imple- ments at hand. The tunnelers gained access to the cellar at night, b}^ removing several bricks from the fireplace in the kitchen, and penetrating under the floor joists. These bricks were replaced when the working detail had descended, and all trace of the opening Avas removed b}^ covering the replaced bricks by soot. At least two men were continually at the work, remaining until relieved the following night. The prisoners up- stairs were carefully counted twice each day by the Confeder- ates, and, to make the count appear correct, two of the working party, by an ingenious fraud, managed to be counted twice while the absentees Avere boring for life and liberty. I had been a prisoner in Libb}" for over six months and had mingled freely among my fellow captives in each of the rooms, yet so Avell had "Rose'' and his party kept their secret, that it was not until I had lain down on the night of February 8. 1864, that I learned of the existence of the tunnel. The startling in- formation ^vas given me by mj* friend. Col, Aaron K, Dunkel, who slept beside me in the '"Gettysburg room," It Avas after ''taps'"; the talloAA* dips had long since been extinguished and the floor of each of the larger rooms (100 feet by 45) Avere cov- ered by prostrate forms of hundreds of prisoners, I could see no evidence of an intended escape and half suspected my friend Dunkel of one of his practical jokes, for Avhich he had a deserA'-ed reputation in Libby, However, I sought Capt, W, H. H. Wilcox of the 10th N, Y,, whom I found equipped for a march. He told me the tunnel Avas reached through the kitchen and that some of the prison- ers had already gone out. He gladly assented to my proposal to attempt the escape together, and I made my toilet, Aviiich, OAving to a scanty Avardrobe, took less than a minute. Picking CAMP AND FIELD. 199 our way among sleeping comrades stretched in hundreds upon the floor of the " Chickamauga room," we descended the crazy- stairway into the kitchen, which was dark and dismal as the grave. Reaching the hottom, we heard no sound save the familiar drip, drip, of the damaged water faucet. Formerly this room had been patrolled by sentinels, but as the floor was a perpetual puddle of dirty water and wholly untenable for sleep- ing purposes, the prisoners had entirely abandoned it for drier quarters and the guard had been withdrawn. Wilcox and I groped along the east wall, and, when ten feet from the front door, we ran suddenly against a silent and densely packed crowd of men around the fireplace, "Colonel Rose " was the first man to go out, closely followed by the working party, who having completed their work, placed the tunnel at the service of all. Then followed Colonel Streight, Captain Reed, and other officers of his brigade. In my anxiety, I was magnifying minutes into hours; there seemed no per- ceptible reduction of the crowd in front, while the crowd behind had increased by hundreds and were pressing us to suffoca- tion. The measured tread of the guard echoed on the sidewalk, within ten feet of where we were. Inquiries, as to the reason of the delay, were whispered from man to man; and fainting and weak men were begging for room and air. At last all movement ceased. "A fat man was stuck in the tunnel and could not get either way." This news sent a chill of unutterable disgust through the crowd; muttered curses were rained thick and fast upon the unlucky victim's stomach. Meanwhile, the sensations of the luckless fat man in his appall- ing situation may be faintly conjectured, but the reader must paint the picture. The bare thought of my fat comrade's har- rowing plight that night gives me a painful oppression of the heart. At last, the corpulent comrade, with forty feet yet to go, made a supreme struggle for life and reached the open air in the stable yard; and I rejoice to add that he was one of the happy sixty-one who reached the Union lines. The escape of our fat comrade was a deplorable loss to the Confederates. They had been pointing him out to distinguished visitors as a stu- pendous refutation of the damaging charges, that Union pris- oners were being reduced to skeletons. The way being reported clear, I was at last gratified to see that there were but three men ahead of me; pressing at my back, 200 CAMP AND FIELD, however, was a compact crowd of three hundred. Suddenly the muffled tread of feet was heard up stairs, and a voice shouted loud and shrill: "The guards, the guards!" Men bounded toward the unbanistered staircase like a herd of mad bisons. The stairs were ninety feet away, and, as the panic- stricken men struggled towards the ''Chickamauga room," they fell under foot by the dozen. At the first alarm I had been lifted from my feet and borne swiftly across the room. I was dashed against an upright pillar with great violence, and, falling in the water, a hundred men trampled me under their feet, bruising my shoulder and hand painfully. Capt. Willard Glazier was hurt in the same manner as myself. As soon as I recovered I arose to my feet. I realized that I was alone in the kitchen, and was grateful at not finding my- self surrounded by Confederate guards. All noise had ceased up stairs and I concluded that it was a false alarm. I crept cautiously to the front door and looked out. The lamps on the streets were shining brightly and a sentinel at that moment was looking toward the heavy door through which I was watching him. He was less than eight feet away and ap- peared at the moment to be looking straight into my eyes. I did not move, fearing to betray my presence by the slightest motion. The corporal of the guard approached and the sentinel, turn- ing to him, demanded why in h 1 he didn't get out the relief, and added, he reckoned the Yankees must have had a ration of apple-jack to-night, for they had been fighting and raising h 1 inside. I watched for the effect of this speech upon the corporal. He made no response whatever, but, lazily turning on his heel, slowly crossed the street and disappeared. My belief was con- firmed, that, notwithstanding the unearthly racket in the kitchen, the Confederates had no suspicion of our desperate game. I determined to lose no more precious time, for I had a long and dangerous road to travel before the morning count in Libby should reveal the number missing and put all Richmond on our track. I squeezed myself feet first through the narrow aperture in the fireplace, and through the chimney, into the east cellar, which was divided from the cellar containing the cells by a wall. These cells were at the front of the building and were CAMP AND FIELD. 201 alternately used for the confinement of hostages, "troublesome prisoners," and Union spies under death sentence. They were floorless closets ten or twelve feet square. A small stream of light from a narrow grated window half sunken in the side- walk above stole into them a part of the day. They were guarded by special sentinels; were alive with enormous rats, and the air in them was sickening. From these dreadful cages many a brave fellow went forth to death. A wall divided this cell from the east cellar under the hospital room, and it was in the east wall of this cellar that the tunnel proper began. Finding the fragment of a blanket rope hanging from the top of the opening, I let my feet down, hoping to touch bot- tom, but found none, and I balanced myself for a fall, whither or to what depth I knew not, for it was a pit of rayless dark- ness. With a sort of faith in fortune I shut my eyes and teeth and let go. Thanks to thoughtful comrades I fell into a pile of straw, and, rolling over two or three times, found myself among hundreds of squealing rats. Before I could recover my equilibrium a score of the repulsive creatures ran over me. Com- plying with my instructions, I placed my back to the wall and waded knee deep toward the opposite wall, through the straw that covered the cellar. The place seemed alive with rats that squealed and thumped against my ankle at every step. At last I reached the wall and ran my hand along the cold damp surface, in search of the tunnel. I groped along until I reached the southeast corner, and, believing I must have passed the hole, I made my way back with increased anxiety and caution. I stopped a dozen times, to listen for some friendly token from comrades who had long preceded me, but no sound could be heard but the horrible chorus of rats. The thought of failure harassed me, as did the fear that I should be obliged to pass the night in the loathsome place. Great beads of perspira- tion came when I thought of being found by the guards in the morning, if indeed the rats did not long ere that battle for my remains. It paralyzed me to think that through my blundering the tun- nel would be discovered and that I should be loaded with the disgrace of having deprived hundreds of prisoners of their liberty. I thought I had surveyed an acre of wall and was on the border of despair, when, to my boundless joy, my hand fell upon a pair of heels. I knew they were live heels, for I had 202 CAMP AND FIELD. no sooner touched them than they vanished like magic in the wall. " Who's there? " said a voice, as if from the grave. " Moran," I answered, "from the Gettysburg room. Who are you? " "Charley Morgan," the sepulchral voice responded, "from the Chickamauga room. Are the rebs coming?" "No, go ahead and make room for me," said I, and away went the heels, sending a shower of dirt into both my eyes. The hole had an average diameter of about two feet; at times descending and again rising. The earth was clammy cold and the air suffocating. My bruised shoulder got rough usage as I wedged myself forward. The hole grew narrower as I ad- vanced, and notwithstanding my slight form, I found myself more than once in the position of the fat man who had pre- ceded me. Morgan unhappily took a violent cramp in one of of his legs, and, to relieve his distress, I pulled off his shoe. This proved a somewhat troublesome charge, for, in order to save it for its owner, I had to push it ahead of me as I crawled onward. The length of the tunnel seemed interminable. I was gasping for breath and my shoulder was paining dreadfully. At last, fainting with suffocation, pain, and fatigue, a ray of light gladdened my eyes and I felt the welcome blessedness of fresh air, certainly the most delicious air I ever breathed in my life. Morgan gave me a friendly welcome, as I rose to the surface, and, having reached terra firma, I made a minute survey of my surroundings. I stood about seventy feet from the eastern wall of the prison and, looking through the dilapidated fence, saw the sentinels pacing their posts. By the light of the street lamps I could easily distinguish their features. An arched way, of sufficient width for the passage of wagons, led to the street on the south, next to and parallel with the canal. I noticed a third person in the yard, and Morgan, in a whisper, introduced Lieut. Will- iam Watson, of the 21st Wis. Regt. We decided to go down the street in an easterly direction, and meet at the second corner for consultation. We each removed our shoes that we might move noiselessly and also that we might run the swifter if challenged by the sentinels. Watson went first and was followed in about two minutes by Morgan, As they moved away, I watched the two nearest CAMP AND FIELD. 20'^ guards, who halted on their post.s and gazed at the retreating forms of my friends. I resolved, should they show a sign of firing, to shout to my comrades and dash down the street after them. The guards appeared to have no suspicions, and, without any audible comment, resumed the pacing of their posts. Feel- ing this to be my opportunity, I leisurely followed in the wake of my friends. It would be difficult to convey a clear idea of the peculiar sensation I felt, when, after an imprisonment of over six months, I first found myself in the open air and drank in the first fragrant breath of liberty; and yet I felt a pang of regret as I turned to look at the grim walls of Libby, where 1 was leaving, perhaps forever, many of the most valued friends of my life. My feet stumbled over the uneven walk, as if I had just landed after a long sea voyage, and the cool February air had an intoxicating effect. I found my two friends at the appointed place. As I had served in McClellan's Peninsula campaign and was tolerably familiar with the topography of the vicinity, I was installed as guide and decided to attempt the passage of the breastworks on the north side of the city. We moved quickly, but with great caution, for we knew the streets to he thoroughly patrolled and that the provost guard compelled every one on the streets to exhibit the proper pass. In spite of care we found ourselves almost in the hands of tho patrol several times, and twice came upon sentinels posted in front of military hospitals. After repeated narrow escapes we turned a corner, and, before we had a chance to exchange a word, a dozen Confederates, without arms, passed us without 9 challenge, or a visible suspicion that we were escaping Yankees- Grateful for our good fortune we moved rapidly forward Dogs rushed at us from every house and set up a hideous howl, as if the whole tribe had conspired to betray us. We were soon in the northern outskirts of Richmond and no longer had tlip aid of the gas lamps. The ground was frozen and hilly. Dim lights appeared as we approached the breastworks. At times we came so near the sentinels that we could hear them conversing. Finally we reached the creek, too wide to jump and too deep and cold to ford, except as a last extremity. Following it eastward we found its southern landing unguarded, and, hoping the opposite landing was the same, we began a cautious crossing. I was in 204 CAMP AND FIELD. the advance and nearly over, when I heard a voice just ahead of me call out: — "Corporal of the guard! " We dropped upon our hands and knees and made a cautious retreat; expecting a shower of balls after us, but heard nothing but the confused hum of voices on the other side. At last we found the creek nearly spanned at a narrow bend by a fallen tree. We mounted the trunk and made a safe land- ing. We made our way over numberless rifle-pits, huge earth- works, tangled brush and fallen trees that would have proved a bloody path to an assaulting column. In front of the works, deep and impassable ditches ran, and a dozen times we came within an ace of walking into the hands of guards. Having passed the city limits and the line of works outside successfully, our spirits rose in spite of empty stomachs and shivering limbs. We carefully avoided the roads, believing that we should be less likely to encounter the guards. The first gray streaks of day were appearing in the East as we saw ahead a number of small fires, and as they seemed to be at uniform distance we concluded we had reached the outer line of pickets. We saw no advantage in going to the right or left, hence we made a hurried reconnoissance and voted to attempt a passage in our immediate front. We went forward to within one hun- dred yards of the nearest post and saw five armed Confederates round the fire while three more were grouped at the next one. Their faces were to the fire and their backs towards us. We dropped upon our hands and knees, and crept in single file, to- ward the center of the intervening space. In spots a low underbrush covered us, but most of the ground was nearly bare, and, as we crept along the frozen earth, the brittle brush snapped and cracked treacherously, while the blazing logs illu- minated our perilous way. At every sound of the snapping branches we looked anxiously on both sides, resolved, if chal- lenged, to take to our heels and run the gantlet. The Con- federates were laughing and talking, their faces turned to- wards the genial fire. Having passed the danger point, and well out of hearing, we rose to our feet, and giving three cheers (in pantomime), broke into a lively trot, with increasing hopes of success; for fortune thus far had singularly favored us. Sunrise found us several miles northeast of Mechanicsville. We had no means of know- CAMP AND FIKLD. 205 ing how far we were from Union troops; and we were alike in doubt as to the number and whereabouts of any enemy in our front. Farm houses began to appear frequently, and knowing the danger of being once seen in a hostile community, we re- luctantly concluded it prudent to hide until night should return. Accordingly we entered a swamp which covered from six to eight acres, thickly grown with a low underbrush that afforded the best available concealment. Selecting a spot at the base of a large oak tree well carpeted with leaves, we stretched our exhausted limbs and soon shivered ourselves to sleep. I was transported by a sweet dream to my country's capital. I was at the White House, in a new suit of clothes, and had been spe- cially invited by Mr. Lincoln and his Cabinet to a gorgeous din- ner. The President was carving a huge turkey; Mr. Seward was uncorking the champagne, and General Grant was filling our pockets with fragrant bundles of his best cigars. I became suddenly conscious that some one had seized me by the hair with a savage grip. Morgan was butting my head violently against the big oak, exclaiming: '"Damn it! stop snoring or you will have us all captured." Before I could realize the cause of my comrades' alarm, I heard a rustling among the bushes and in another minute a small dog bounded into our hiding place, gave a quick, sharp bark and disappeared. This naturally gave us alarm, and within a minute we heard voices approaching from the south. We were preparing to run, when a number of armed Confederates appeared. We dropped upon our faces in the thick underbrush, clinging to the desperate hope that we might escape their notice. The party, dog and all, passed within ten feet of where we lay and in another minute had disappeared. Was it possible that twenty men could pass so close and none of them see us? It seemed incredible. We were in a perilous situation and there was no time for parleying. I felt that we had been seen and believed that our only chance was a run for life. My two friends thought the chances of escaping twenty bullets too slim, and expressed the hope that we had escaped the notice of the Confederates. Our desperate situa- tion demanded decision, so I volunteered to follow the path taken by the armed party and reconnoiter; it being understood that if I fell into the hands of the Confederates I should give warning by a whistle. I felt that I could endure anything 206 CAMP AxND FIELD. rather than suspense. I followed the Confederates to the bor- der of the open field. A small farm house stood at a distance of one thousand yavds, but not a man was in sight. The sud- den disappearance of the party was to me significant, and 1 concluded that they were deploying so as to encompass the swamp and close in on us. I turned quickly, expecting to hear the whiz of a bullet from a concealed Confederate. I had taken less than a dozen steps when a long clear whistle was heard to my right, answered by another on the opposite side of the swamp. My two friends, mistaking these for my signals, bounded through the woods like startled deer, toward the south side. I stopped an instant and heard a dozen whistles, followed by the clear command of the Confederates, "Close in!" The thought of going back to Libby a captive was like a knell of death, and I resolved to take any chance short of actual sui- cide rather than be taken, I had heard no sound from the east of the swamp and I determined upon that as the point to run. I tore through the low bog, lost my left shoe in the treacherous mire, and to increase my speed took off the other and threw it away. I struck a path running eastward, and, without shoes, fairly flew over the ground. As I leaped to the ground from a fallen tree that crossed the path, a tall Confederate, who had not heard my swift and noiseless approach, sprang to his feet, leaving his carbine against the tree. He tripped and fell flat, uttering a " whoop" like a Comanche Indian. I leaped squarely over him almost into the arms of three other Confederates, who leveled their carbines at my head and commanded me to halt. The fallen man, recovering his gun and his wits, came savagely toward me, and amid the laughter of his companions, in a fog-horn voice, shouted, "Surrender!" I hoped my two comrades might meet a better fate, but they were soon in sight, attended by guards. The Confederates hunted up my shoes and treated us with considerable kindness. They fed us liberally from their haversacks, admitted that our discovery in the swamp was a great surprise to them, and added that we were outside of their lines. We were received at Libby with a smile of pleasant recogni- tion by the clerk of the prison. E. W. Ross ("Little Ross"). The commandant, Maj. Thomas P. Turner, was seated in the office with his feet lazily resting upon a chair. His back was CAMP AND FIELD. 207 towards us, and he was seemingly reading the Richmond En- quirer — a very transparent trick of the major's, as we gave him to understand, by our answers to the questions which Ross had been instructed to ask. Turner was lashed into fury by the ridicule rained upon him for this escape. Finding us de- termined to answer none of his questions, he called Sergt. George Stansell, and ordered him to lock us up in the spies' cell. As Stansell turned the key and bolted us in we found our- selves in a dark and horrible dungeon occupied by a single prisoner. This proved to be Captain Gates of the 33d Ohio Regt., who apologized for being glad to see us, as he said it was frightfully lonesome. Captain Gates was one of the tun- nelers and it is a singular fact that of the 109 who got out through the tunnel he was the only one retaken within the city limits. When the news of the escape reached General Winder, he was furious, and would not believe it until the prisoners had been counted for the third time. He placed the whole guard under arrest and locked the officers and men up in "Castle Thunder" pending an investigation. Curious crowds sur- rounded Libby daily, and particulars of the affair were eagerly sought. General Butler, learning of the escape, sent scouting parties in all directions to give aid to the fugitives. The recaptured officers each refused to answer questions, and at last the brutal Turner had thirty of us packed in a twelve foot square dungeon. The recapture of Colonel Rose, the brave engineer of the tunnel, caused the deepest regret, for all felt that he had bravely deserved his liberty. The tunnel was at last discovered through the incautious answer of a recaptured officer, who supposed that the Confederates already knew of it, and so we were released from our horrible confinement and restored to our former quarters. So ended the tunnel escape. Of the 109 who passed through the tunnel forty-eight were retaken and sixty-one reached the Union lines. Considering the meager resources of its daring constructors and the difficulties overcome, the Libby Prison tunnel takes rank among those achievements that put the highest test on human patience and endurance, while the story of the escape will always command a keen interest for students of our war. J\ STOl^V OP SfljLiOtl. A NIGHT MARCH IN A THUNDER-STORM AND WHAT WE DID AFTER WE GOT THERE. SIXTY-EIGHT HOURS OF TRAMPING AxND PICKETING WITH- OUT SLEEP. BY \V. F. HINMAN, 65th OHIO. ^^URING the last days of March and the earh- part of April, 1862, Biiell's arm}' was on the road from Nashville to join Grant at Pittsburg Landing. It was an "easy" march, the divisions being one day apart in order that the road might not be encumbered. We lived in Sibley tents then, and each regiment had a bigger baggage train than a brigade did two years later. Wood's division — the Sixth — was composed of the Fifteenth, Twentieth and Twenty-first brigades. Our brigade was the Twentieth. It w^as then commanded by General James A. Gar- field. He had just been f)romoted, having earned his star by his recent brilliant campaign against Humphrey Marshall in Eastern Kentucky. He was an ideal officer. Brave, chivalrous and soldierly, of commanding appearance, his very presence, as he be- strode his horse at the head of his brigade, was, as himself once said of Phil Sheridan, "an inspiration." No general was ever more mindful of the comfort of his soldiers. Within a fortnight from the day he assumed the command, he possessed in the fullest degree the confidence and esteem of every officer and man in the brigade. For six days we jogged along at a comfortaole pace, marching an average of twelve miles a day. This is scarcely more than a comfortable stroll for an unincumbered man, but when a soldier. CAMP AND FIELD. 209 carrying his arms and accouterments, weighing forty or fifty pounds, has traveled that distance, he is only too glad to go into bivouac. The road for more than half the distance was a hard limestone pike. The weather was warm — uncomfortably so at times — and the dust that arose from the tread of many thousand feet was well nigh suffocating. It gathered upon perspiring faces to such an extent that sometimes on going into camp one could not recognize his most intimate fi*iend. Whenever practicable, camp was pitched near a stream to afford facilities for very neces- sary^ ablution. So day after day we tramped and night after night we bivou- acked, each mile bringing us nearer to our first experience of the bloody horrors of war. At 4? o'clock in the morning of Sunday, April 6, the reveille sounded through the camp. It fell upon unwilling ears, for we had not yet become inured to hard march- ing, and there were many with weary limbs and blistered feet, to whom even a moderate da^^'s journey was then little else than torture. Could those men have foreseen the hardships and priva- tions of the next three da^'s, their hearts would have sunk within them in utter despair. Garfield's brigade was to lead that day, and there was no time to think of aching bones. Scarcely had the sound of fife and drum died away when the camp was aglow with the light of a hundred fires. The air w^as filled with the hum of bu^ preparation for the day's march. Coffee — the soldiers* chief solace — was hastily made and.bacon was toasted before the fire on sharpened sticks. These, with "hard-tack, "comprised the frugal but keenly-relished meal. A few chickens, and probably a pig or two, had been furtively brought into camp the previous night, supplying to a favored few succulent morsels to heighten the enjoyment of the matutinal meal. At that early stage of the war foraging had not developed into the science that characterized the practice of later years, and which was brought to the Jiighest point of perfection by the men known to fame as "Sherman's Bummers," when they marched down to the sea. Confiscation, even to fill an aching void under the blouse, was not permitted. The soldier wrho sought the fat- lings of the field or barnyard did so at his peril. There were not 210 CAMP AND FIELD wanting, however, men who already gave great promise of future usefulness in this direction— promise, I may add, that was more than realized as the months and years rolled on. By some means known only to themselves, these gifted men were able so adroitly to capture and take the life of a fowl or hapless pig that it had no opportunity to utter a sound. We had one of them in our "mess." John Yarham was a most artistic fellow, and rarely failed to come into camp, after "running the guards," well laden from his nightly forays. He supplied us with much to vary the monotony of regulation fare. We never asked him whether he bought or stole what he brought in ; we simph' ate and were thankful. A choice bit to the Captain's mess now and then did much to avert oft-threatened punishment. I once saw that man get permission to leave the ranks, while on the march, to fill his canteen at a well near a farmhouse. In the yard were several bee-hives. He quietly tipped one of them over, with his naked hands scooped out the honey, bees and all, into a pail which he pressed into the service, regardless of the swarm which buzzed about him ; carried it during the remainder of the day's march, and then divided it among his comrades. Poor fellow ! He was captured at Chickamauga and died at Andersonville. In an hour breakfast was over, blankets were strapped, tents struck and wagons loaded. Soon after daylight the column was in motion. We were at this time about thirt\'-five miles from Sa- vannah. After we had been some three hours upon the road we were startled by the roar of far distant artillery. There could be no mistaking the ominous sound. Immediate^ every man straightened up and quickened his steps. Two hours later, a courier, riding in mad haste, his horse white with foam, reined up and delivered dispatches to General Wood. Then procuring a fresh horse he dashed on to meet General Thomas, whose division was a day's march behind. A halt was instantly ordered. It was not long till every man knew there was business ahead. We were directed to strip to "Hght marching order." Knap- sacks, overcoats and blankets were heaped by the roadside, to be loaded upon the wagons. Cartridge boxes were examined and filled to the complement of forty rounds, and each man was CAMP AND FIELD. 211 directed to carry twenty additional rounds in his pocket. Haver- sacks were filled with three days' rations and canteens wiih fresh water from a stream near by. Then the "fall in" was sounded, the command, "Forward! Quick time — March!" was given and away we sped, followed onW b}' the artillery, ammunition train, hospital wagons and ambulances. All that Sunday afternoon we plodded on, with hourly halts of five minutes for rest. Thesound of cannonading continued louder and clearer as we approached the scene of conflict. We had al- ready had much experience in hard campaigning during the five months we had been in the service, but we had seen no fighting. We were like all new troops, who not only "burn to wear a uni- form," but feel that they are not fully developed soldiers until they also "hear drums and see a battle." During the ensuing three years, whatever of curiosity' we may have had in this direc- tion was satisfied a hundredfold. When, from time to time, recruits or new regiments came to us in the field, it was always just the same with them. They were valiant in spirit and in word. Their ears longed for the roar of cannon and the rattle of musketry. Their nostrils were keen for the scent of burning powder. One actual experiment w^as always enough. Thereafter their tongues were silent. Thc}^ went into battle again and again, with mag- nificent heroism, but it was from considerations of duty and not because the}^ enjoyed it. So we talked bravely and tried to feel that way, as we marched rapidly on. Faces wore a serious look, and the accustomed jest was rarely heard. The prevailing fear seemed to be lest the battle would be over before we could get there — at least, each man ap- peared anxious to impress his comrades with the fact that such were his sentiments. I doubt if the world has ever seen a braver company of heroes than we were — at that distance from the field. Toward evening another courier \vas met, who delivered orders for the division to press on during the night and spare no effort to reach the field at the earliest possible moment. We were told that a great battle had been raging since early morning and the issue was doubtful. Reinforcements for Grant's army were of the utmost importance. Shortly before sundown a halt of half an 212 CAMP AND FIELD, hour was made for supper. Fires were lighted and each man prepared a liberal allowance of strong coffee to fortify himself for the night march. As the twilight came on we again fell into ranks and the column moved rapidly on through the fast deepening shadows. During the afternoon we had left the macadamized highway and our route now lay through a wild and desolate stretch of country. The very rough road, full of ruts and stones and stumps, ran ug and down, over and around clay hills covered with a stunted growth of trees, with now and then a piece of lowland heavily timbered. The darkness came on apace. The weather grew rapidly colder, and ere long black clouds overspread the sky, entirely cutting off the dim light of the stars that had been faintly twinkling upon us through the trees. There was no moon, and if there had been it could not have pierced the dense masses of clouds that hung over us. But on and on \ve went, slowly grop- ing our way through darkness so absolute that no man could see his 'nearest comrade. It was, perhaps, ten o'clock when our ears were saluted with the rumblingsof thunder, betokening the storm that was at hand. After half an hour of preliminary skirmishing, the elements burst . upon us with the utmost fury. It seemed as if the artillery of the heavens had been massed and was firing volley after volley, with peals that almost shook the earth. Flashes of lightning, Winding in their intensity, followed each other in quick succession, and the rain came down in torrents. I do not remember ever to have experienced a more persistent and copious thunderstorm. It seemed as if the reservoirs had been filled to the very brim, to be emptied upon us as we stumbled along during that fearful night. Through it all we kept on, not at great speed, it is true, but we managed to keep moving. The rain fell without a mo- ment's cessation for three or four hours. The flashes of lightning disclosed to our view for an instant a mass of struggling men, drenched and drenched again, floundering in the mire and stumb- ling over rocks and stumps that impeded the way. Such a scene cannot be adeauately described, nor, indeed, scarcely imagined. CAMP AND FIELD. 213 Those who passed through that experience are not likely ever to forget it. Before midnight the movement of artillery and vehicles of everv kind was abandoned as wholly impracticable. The cannon wheels sank deep into the soft earth and some of them were hopelesslv bemired. At first, attempts were made to help them along by putting a score of men at the wheels, but in manvcases the horses, terrified b\'the thunder and lightning, became unmanageable, and at length the infantry was ordered to move on, leaving the artil- lery to follow by daylight. All the officers dismounted and tramped along with the boys, for it was well-nigh impossible to ride. Their horses, like those of the artillery, were in a state of utter demoralization, and it was onh- with the greatest difficulty that they could be controlled. Several of them broke away in their fright, dashed off in the darkness and were never heard of more. Toward morning the storm had spent its furv. The rain re- solved itself into a sort of drizzle, which continued for many hours. It was a long, a very long night. It seemed as though it vould never end. But at last the faint rays of light began to streak through the dripping and gloomy woods, and they never looked upon a more disconsolate procession of mortals. For twenty-four hours we had not thought of sleep. Our wet gar- ments were besmeared with clay. As nearly as I can recall our state of mind that wretched morning, I think we were not quite sure whether the Union was worth saving or not. We had eaten nothing during the night save an occasional nibble at a half- soaked cracker. As soon as it was fairly daylight we halted for an hour's rest. It was not eas^^ to find anything that would burn, but by pulling down fences and a couple of deserted shanties we succeeded in getting some fires started. Shivering men crowded around them with their kettles for making coffee. The warmth soon began to exert its mellowing influence, and draughts of steaming coffee aided greatly in diffusing good cheer among the six thousand men that fringed the road for a mile 5n either «side. As our spirits, which had been at a very low ebb, began to 214 CAMP AND FIELD. rise, we even indulged in a few feeble jokes at each other's expense, upon our dilapidated appearance. Our stop was brief. While drinking our coffee there came ta our ears, through the lieav}' and murky morning air, " The terrible grumble and rumble and roar, Telling the battle was on once more." The roar of cannon sounded with startling distinctness. "We could even hear the volleys of musketry. Savannah was now but five or six miles away, and by a direct line we were only ten or twelve miles from the battle-field. Moved bj^ a common im- pulse, the soldiers hurriedly emptied their cups, and scarcely wait- ing for the word of command, fell into line. "Attention — Battalion! Shoulder — Arms! Right — Face! Right shoulder shift — Arms ! Forward — March !" and off we went at a rapid gait, splashing through the mud, making all possible haste to reach the river. The air was cold and raw, the rain was still falling at intervals, and we had neither blankets nor overcoats. We kept on at a brisk pace, with but one or two brief halts, and reached Savannah about 10 o'clock. Here all was confusion and excitement. During the night steamboats had brought down from Pittsburg Landing hundreds of wounded men, and all the houses in the little, straggling village had been taken possession of for hospital purposes. Here and there, on porches and in yards, lay the bodies of men who had died during the night. Surgeons were at work in every house, amputating shattered limbs and dressing wounds. As we marched down the main street to the river, we could hear the groans of the sufferers. We began to see war in its ghastliest form. The town was full of stragglers, who in the demoralization of the previous day, had found their way hither. A force of offi- cers and men \vas engaged in gathering up the fugitives and organizing them into companies — they were from scores of differ- ent regiments — for their return to the field. Mounted officers and orderlies were dashing about conveying orders for the hurr3nng of troops and ammunition to the front. I am writing this nearly thirty years after that memorable April morning, but the scene isr before me as vivid as if it were but yesterday. CAMP AND FIELD. 215 At the landing we stacked arms and were compelled to wait- half an hour before taking passage for the field where the battle was raging. The steamer on which we were to go had arrived shortly before, filled with the wounded, who were being carried on shore as fast as possible. There were scores with bleeding arms and legs, hobbling along as best they could, while others were borne upon stretchers to the various buildings and placed in the cai"e of the surgeons. I remember a brave fellow, one of whose legs had been fright- fulU' mangled from the knee downward by a piece of shell. As he was carried past us, he raised upon one elbow and exclaimed : *'They want you there, boys ! Hurry up, and when you get there just give the rascals h — 1 ! That's what they gave me yesterday, but we're going to lick 'em like blazes to-day!" The boys gave him a hearty cheer in recognition of his pluck, and he waved his hand in response. As soon as the -wounded were removed from the steamer we took arms and went aboard. The decks were spotted with stains of blood. Our own artillery had not yet come up, but another batter}^ which had been waiting was hastily run in upon the main deck, some two hundred boxes of ammunition were carried on, and then we steamed up the river. The boat was crowded to its ut- most capacity. The roar of battle was incessant, becoming more and more distinct as we neared the field. Halfway up we met a boat coming down loaded with the freshly wounded. "How is it?" shouted a dozen \oices. "It's bull}^ to-day! We've driven them all along the line!" was the answer, and a mighty shout went up from those on both steamers as they glided past. It was about 1 o'clock in the afternoon wlien the gang-plank was thrown out at Pittsburg Landing. General Wood was the first man ashore and Garfield the next. A staff officer was in waiting with orders. We hurriedly debarked, scrambled up the bank thirty feet in height, and the battle-field of Shiloh was be- fore us. I will not attempt to picture the awful scene, or the intensely exciting and absorbing circumstances that surrounded us. We learned by hasty inquiry that our lines had been advanced two miles since morning; that the enemy had been steadily forced 216 CAMP AND FIELD. back and would soon, it was believed, be in full retreat. Ours was the advance brigade of the division. The regiments were quickly formed and without a moment's delay we started for the front. ' ' Double-quick — March ! " « Away we went, over the field strewn thickly with dead and dying. On ever}' hand the stretcher-bearers were seen carrying the wounded to the rear. As we advanced, bodies clothed in blue and gra}' were closely intermingled, showing that the ground had been desperately fought over, as the wave of battle alternately swept this way and that. As we neared the scene of actual con- flict the air was filled with smoke, and now and then wild shouts and yells, which we correctly judged to be those of the Union forces, told us that all was going well. Men with bleeding wounds, who were able to help themselves, streamed past us toward the Landing. "Go for 'em, boys!" the}' shouted, their own sufferings entirely lost in the all-prevailingidea of victory. "Give 'em the best you've got in the shop." More saddening were the scenes that met our eye upon the ground. Here and there lay men desperately wounded, many unto death, screaming and moaning with pain. Some of these even smiled feebly and uttered faint words of cheer as we passedA On every side were scattered hundreds whom never again " The braying horn or screaming fife At dawn should call to arms." The victorious shouts of our advancing lines grew louder and louder, and the sound of musketry was terrific. General Garfield spurred his horse and dashed ahead with Wood, the brigade fol- lowing on a full run. Soon we came in sight of the line of battle, and a few stray bullets from the enemy, away beyond, began to fall around us. A few of our brigade were struck by these fugi- tive missiles, but none were killed. Garfield came back at a gallop, and we halted for a few moments to put our muskets in order, for they had been drenched by the rain of the previous night. Hastily wiping out the barrels>we loaded our pieces, and then away again on the double-quick, with arms at a "right shoulder CAMP AND FIELD. 217 shift." Word came to us that the enemy was in full retreat, but we pressed on for three miles, when we were recalled from the pursuit. We shouted and yelled, with the feeling that we had at last earned the right to do that. It was not our fault that we did not find opportunity to use our muskets. The lines were established for the night, our position being about three miles from the river at a point that had been fiercely' fought over during the two days. By this time the wounded had been carried to the rear, but the dead la}^ thick upon the ground. The soldiers who had been fighting during Sunday and Monday were withdrawn and permitted to bivouac for a night of such sleep and rest as they could get — for men can sleep even under such circumstances. We were among the fresh troops stationed for duty at the front. How " fresh" we felt after the experience of the past night and two daj^s may be imagined by the reader who has followed this narrative. But there we remained all of Monday night, standing nearly the whole time in line of Isattle. Although an attack was not looked for, the fullest precautions were taken to guard against a possible dash by the enemy. It was another long, long night — longer it seemed, if possible, than the preceding, when we were floundering through the storm and darkness. A cold rain was falling, ever\' thread of our cloth- ing was saturated, and we were chilled to the verj' marrow. Our teeth chattered and ever\' muscle and fiber quivered as with a Maumee ague. Blankets and overcoats were stripped from the dead, who could need them no longer, to cover and warm the liv- ing. I have in* mind a picture of General Garfield, and Colonel Harker of the Sixty-fifth Ohio, as I saw them that night. They sat together upon a log, shivering with the cold, their shoulders covered b}^ wet blankets that had been picked up on the field. Staff officers and orderlies stood around, all on the alert for anv emergency that might arise. The morning broke at last and found us more dead than alive. No fires had been allowed on the outermost line, w^hich we had occupied. Nor were we permitted to sleep, even had we been able to do so, in our condition. That da\' we spent in making a wild rush of a dozen miles trying to catch some rebel cavalr\'. Then, 218 CAMP AND FIELD. ^ when we returned in the eveninjjf, came the welcome order to go to the rear and bivouac for the night. We went back to within a mile from the river, where we stacked arms, threw off accouter- ments — which we had carried continuously for three days and two nights— built fires, made coffee, toasted bacon, a fresh supply of which was issued to us, and ate our suppers with keen enjoy- ment. This over, we began to cast about for sleeping arrange- ments." It was midnight of Tuesday, and since four o'clock Sunday morning, sixty-eight hours, we had not closed our eyes. After the experiences during that time, as detailed in this sketch, we were, it is needless to say, tired. Indeed, that word is feeble enough to express our condition. No longer sustained by the ex- citement that had kept us up to a high tension, a state of exhaus- tion followed that no words can portray. Many sank upon the mudd}'^ ground, their clothes still soaked with water, and were soon lost in sleep. Very fortunate were the few who had been able to gather blankets from the battle-field. During the night the pitiless rain beat down tipon us again, but through it all we slept, many not weakening till nearly noon of the next day.' It w^as a week before our baggage train came up and we once more slept under shelter. For a time nearly half our brigade were in the hospitals, and as many died from the effects of those days and nights of hardship as would have been killed by the enemy's bul- lets had w^e been in the thickest of the fight during the two days ofShiloh. flOM? WE 1BE(;^(T^E5 VETEl^^I^S. IT WAS A GOOD THING FOR THE GOVERNMENT THAT THE BOYS WENT IN FOR "THREE YEARS MORE." BY ROBERT J. MOOKB, 40tii INDIANA. T has alwaj's seemed to me a singularly fortunate thing for ^ -M the Union cause durinof the late war that the Government ( mMm secured the re-enlistment of so many well-seasoned soldiers duringthe winter of 1 863-4. I may add that I have never ceased to wonder that the men responded with such alacrity to the call for "three years more." As a matter of fact, the war ended in a little more than a year from the time these men w^ere mustered in as "veterans." Had it continued through the fall term of their second enlistment, at the rate it was carried on dur- ing the fighting year of 1864, there would have been precious few of those veterans left. It is no doubt true that scarcely half of all the men who went to the field really became effective soldiers. The other half, more or less, proved physically unable to endure the terrible wear and tear of the service. They did not lack courage, but hard marching, exposure to sun and storm, sleepless nights and hunger were too much for them. They "gave out" and were discharged by thou- sands and tens of thousands. Almost any regiment, if put into active campaign, would, in a few months, w^ithout once smelling the smoke of battle, be reduced to half its original strength. The men who could endure all the hardships of army life became toughened to a degree that almost passes belief. They could "stand " anything. Nothing but the deadly, deadly missiles from musket or cannon could kill them. Bv the end of 1803 the regiments east and west, probably, did not average three hundred men. I speak of those which had seen 220 CAMP AND FIELD. two years or more of hard fighting. Many were mere skeletons, less than two hundred strong. But these w^ere soldiers. They had learned the art of war. Two hundred of them were worth as much to an army as a thousand raw recruits. So, as I have said, it was a great thing to secure the re- enlistment of these men. How disastrous it w^ould have been had the soldiers who took the field in 1861 dropped out of the armies of the Potomac and the Cumberland at the end of their three years. This would have been during the summer and autumn of 1864, when great and important campaigns were in progress. The loss of the veteran soldiers at such a time would have been irretrievable. There-enlistment of these men was an act that must challenge the admiration of the world. They knew the danger and sufiering and death that were before them, and yet thev wnllingh' and cheerfully said, "Here am I," when the call was made. At the time of re-enlistment we were away up in the woods of East Tennessee. Immediately after the battle of Mission Ridge we marched, with the Fourth corps, to the relief of Burnside at Knoxville. That march from Chattanooga was full of discom- fort, hardship and suffering. When we started, the weather was rainy and the woods were a mass of mud. Then it turned cold, and the mercury went below the freezing point — or it would if v^e had had anv thermometers. We had no tents and many had no overcoats or blankets. We had been hurried away after the bat- tle and had no opportunity to procure the supplies of clothing we so greatly needed. Before w^e reached Knoxville the siege had been raised, and Longstreet, who gave it up after his fruitless and bloody attack on Fort Sanders, was on his way to rejoinLee'sarmy in Virginia. We pushed out upon his trail, coming to a halt near Blaine's Cross Roads. By this time the weather was extremely severe. Snow covered the ground to the depth of several inches and it was bitterly cold. No one who was there, shivering around the fires, with no protection but rude shelters made of rails and the boughs of trees, can ever forget that terrible New Year's day, 1864. Many of the soldiers had their extremities frozen, and the sufiering that all experienced w^as greater than words can portray. It was at such a time that the proposition was submitted to enlist "for three years more." It would seem that the hard- ships of the month previous would have but poorly prepared the men to receive it with favor. It is no doubt true, however, that the promise of a thirty days' furlough at home was not without CAMP AND FIKLD, 221 its allurements. In a less degree, the large bounties offered to those who should re-enlist may have had some weight, although money was but a small recompense for the exposure, fatigue and suffer- ing of a soldier's life, to say nothing of the danger of death or mutilation in battle. The subject was discussed in all its phases by the poorlv clad and half-fed soldiers as, begrimed with dirt and smoke, they hovered around the fires. At first there were but few who ex- pressed their willingness to "go in." But it became contagious, and by the 1?*me the proper ])apers were received from Washington and the mustering officer made his appearance, a good part of the bo\'s had worked themselves up to the point. Most of them had not seen "God's country" for more than two years, and the thought of a whole month at home was exceedingly "fetching." When the roll wjis produced Jind wc were asked to sign it, there was a general rush, which did not cease until more than halfthe regi- ment had put down their names. Then it went a little more slowly. The matter w^as not hurried. Time was given for the leaven to do its perfect work among the more obdurate ones. Of course those w^hohad "crossed the Rubicoji" and Ijurned thebridge behind them did all in their power to induce their comrades to follow their ex- ample. One by one they w^ere won over, until enough had re- enlisted to insure the continuance of the organization as a "veteran" regiment. Then there was great rejoicing as the boys laid their plans for going hc;me. By the time we started nearly all had taken the important step. A few, who felt that thev had had enough, held out to the last. Their term would expire in a few months, and they chose to serve out their three years and then go home to stay. No persuasion or jiromises of bounty or furlough could induce them to change their minds. It was with light and happy hearts that v^e "fell in " at last to start for Indiana. We thought then only of the present, and not of the three long years before us which might elapse before the war closed. In such an event not many of us would be left. Now we were going home, and that blessed thought wholly occupied our minds. And what a glorious time we had ! What heroes we were, and how our mothers and sisters stuffed us with gpod things! Those were happy days indeed. Thev flew by all too quickly, and the time came for us to start back, with bright, new flags and uniforms, to engage again in cruel war. In a few days we plunged into the Atlanta campaign. Before it closed many a veteran had made the sacrifice of life for country's sake. JULY 1, 2, 3, 1863. THE HILLS ROCK AND TREMBLE UNDER THE TERRIBLE TUMULT. The Air Full of Hissing, "Whizzing Missiles of Death. By CHAS. E. TROUTMAN, Lieutenant Company G, I 2th N. J. Regiment. N the morning of July 1, the 3d Division, 2d Corps, moved along the Taneytown road, filed into a field, and awaited developments. About one or two o'clock that afternoon the sound of artillery told us that our distant front had found the head of the bold invader. At sunset we were met by dis- mantled artillery, wounded men, and ambulances slowly winding to the rear with the dying. Upon each ambu- lance and each cap was seen the full moon or the crescent, showing that the 1st and 11th Corps had been at it. About dark, we filed into a meadow near Rock Creek, just in the rear of Round Top. All was excitement; the battle had gone against us; Reynolds was dead, and thus night fell on the evening of the first day. At dawn we moved up the Taneytown road, past General Meade's head- quarters, a two-roomed frame house, with sunflowers near the doorstep. Marching on we went up a gentle rise, in the rear of an orchard, on the crest overlooking the valley, the western edge of which was bounded by Seminary Ridge. There we remained during that long summer morning smoking and chatting, con- CAMP AND FIELD. 223 jecturing as to the probable results of our next move. Two batteries were exchanging compliments with those of the enemy, whose shells plunged and tore up the sod around us. " Toward evening a body of North Carolina sharpshooters en- sconced themselves in a house and barn midway between the lines, and rendered it unsafe to work the batteries on our right and left front. A battalion of the regiment to which I was attached was ordered to dislodge them, so down the slope we went — Col. Thomas A. Smyth, commanding the brigade, leading the way — until the Emmittsburg road was reached. Three cheers were given — a man fell dead for every cheer. Nothing daunted the battalion dashed over the intervening space of five hundred yards to where the enemy was concealed. Every minie that left that barn was distinctly heard from the muzzle of the rifle until it struck something. A captain of one of the companies running beside the writer was struck just above the right eye. It was zip, zip, all the way across the meadows. Over the fence we went, through the barnyard knee deep in manure, but not an enemy was to be seen. A constant shuffling above told us that the foe was still in possession, but so were we. It was certain death to charge up the ladder to the loft above, but at last a venturesome youth, whose curiosity exceeded his fear, climbed the ladder until his eyes were above the level of the upper floor. The sight satis- fied him, for with a shout he loosened his hold and came down amoirg us, accompanied by three Confederates, who, in making a dash at him, had fallen through. I do not know how it hap- pened, but this fortunate capture seemed to be the signal for the surrender of the whole force above. A detail of ten or fif- teen men was then ordered to charge the house, as we were convinced that there was a body of sharpshooters there, too. We ran through the garden through lilac, rose, and raspberry bushes. The berries on the latter were temptingly hanging, but there was more serious business. A rattling, splitting sound, and the picket fence went down, and the remnant of us dashed into the kitchen door, where twelve men were captured. After capturing one more man — discovered in an old-fashioned cup- board — we heard the sound of the recall, and ran back over the meadow, under a live archway of shells. Early the next morning, the barn and house were burned by a detachment of the 14th Conn., under the orders of Colonel 224 CAMP AND FIELD. Smyth. The division was moved to the front, its left resting- on Arnold's 1st R. I. Battery, its right on the left of the 1st Corps, that occupied the cemetery. The 71st or 72d Penn. had its right resting on the battery, leaving an interval between our extreme left and the 2d Division for the battery to play through. The right of the regiment to which I was attached rested at a small house and barn, which was used as the headquarters of General Hays, our division commander. In front was a low stone wall. The ground sloped gradually from about fifteen yards in our rear to the Emmittsburg pike, when the valley was apparently level for about six hundred yards. Then there was a gradual rise until it reached Seminary Ridge, top of which was crowned with a dense woody growth. Between us and the ridge were fields of ripening wheat and clover and growing corn, with fences intact; presenting such a picture as would delight the soul of an artist. The morning of the third was quiet — ominously so. Occa- sionally the sharp sputter of the skirmish fire would arouse our interest. We conversed in little groups, wandered about, or sat under the shade, for the day got to be excessively hot. At 12.30 coffee was put to boiling, pipes were lighted, and the men were preparing to while away the afternoon as best they could. Just then, off to the enemy's left, a gun was heard. A second or two of anxious suspense followed, and immediately over our heads, close enough to feel the rush of air, flew a screaming shell. There was a chance to count five slowly, when about op- posite Round Top, came a "boom," followed by another, and then the earth began to shake. Away went coffee pots, haver- sacks, pipes, everything, and each man flattened himself against mother earth. One hundred and twenty-eight guns opened their black throats all along Seminary Ridge and hurled murder and sudden death at us; the hills fairly rocked and trembled; the air was fllled with hurling, hissing, whizzing, rattling pro- jectiles. It seemed as if nothing could stand such a fire; aye, that the very soil itself would be swept from that crest. Order- lies dashed through the orchard to headquarters, crouching low over the saddle with shoulders drawn up, like men caught in a sudden hailstorm. Amid the unearthly clangor, and above it all, could be heard the clear voice of the command- ing officer of a battery to our left, unconcernedly giving his orders. CAMP AND FIEI.U. 225 This storm continued until about 4 p. m., when the slackened fire betokened the approach of the terrible infantry lines. The smoke of the opposing guns had settled low in the valley, and our division was in the hush of expectancy. Then the sputter- ing fire along the skirmish line told us of an infantry advance. A gentle breeze rolled away the curtain and opened to our view a magnificent array; Pickett's Virginians and Pettigrew's North Carolinians were moving over the intervening valley in two compact lines of battle. Hays rode down the line, sternly bid- ding every man to keep hidden from view. One man, in his eagerness to watch the approaching enemy, rose to his feet. *' Lie down!" roared Hays, "lie down like that man;" pointing to a figure at his feet. "That man is dead, general." " I wish you were; be quiet." Then turning to his orderly, the division color bearer, he spoke: "Orderly! when we are attacked I ex- pect to ride where danger is the thickest; do you think you will keep up with that flag, even if I ride to hell?" Touching Kis cap visor. " With pleasure," said the orderly. " General, if you reach hell, just look out the window and you'll see the little blue trefoil fluttering behind you." On came the enemy, pecked by the little skirmish line retreating before it. The bugle now sounded the recall, and the skirmishers came dashing to our lines. Then Arnold's and other batteries opened with grape and canister upon the advancing line. Men were literally blown into the air, but the gaps were closed; no hurry, no wavering, but steadily moving onward, the movement eliciting admiration from those who were so soon to mow them down. When thirty yards distant general officers rode up and down the ranks, exhorting and inspiring our men. With a roar and a yell the enemy now rushed toward our position. Fences dis- appeared as if of pasteboard. There was silence in our divis- ion until the first line was just lapping the Emmittsburg road, when we heard the order, ''Fire!'' A sheet of flame, a clash of musketry, and the first line melted. On came the second, not in line, but in isolated groups, intent upon reaching the crest. The shouts of combatants, surging lines, and roar of artillery made a picture that cannot be imagined, much less described. Color Sergeant Cheeseman, of Camden, N. J., at this supreme moment leaped over the stone wall, ran hurriedly almost to the Emmittsburg pike, and with a fearful blow of his fist felled the color bearer of one of the enemy's regiments, 226 CAMP ANID FIELft-. grasped his flag, and gayly trotted back to tlie lines, waving it over his head, and this amid the heavy musketry tire of both lines. Brave fellow! He sleeps in the ^Vilderness. Mortals eouid not stand the territie fire that swept the valley. Pettigrew broke and ran. the line crumbled and gav(^ way. Pickett's divis- ion s-wept on and had a hand-to-hand conflict with the 'Mst and 7 '.Hi Penn. Regts. of the 3d Division, and then went reeling back over the valley into the woods, from which it had so bno3'antly and gallantly emerged. ^^^^^xv^\\v\\v^^x\\v\\Vv^xvAJ^ ♦|-^=r^(3=:^*-H|, ^X\\X\\X\\X\\X\\'V\\XN\V^XVN*N\V GRANDEST CHARGE. ^^^IIE grandest charge of the war is wj^r? si^id by General Sheridan to have S^ been made by General Crook, at Fislier's Hill. September. 1804. KUN O.K I^IClvHT POST. BY A LEWISTON (MAINE) MEMBER OF THE G. A, R. jHEN I was in the service, we used 5^ to tuoli it pretty hard to the raw recruits, sometimes. I remember one fellow in particular, who *** joined our regiment when we were in Virginia. He was a raw-boned fellow, who had come to the war to gain a big commission in the army. He w as about as green a chap in military affairs as T ever saw. This recruit w as always talking about how he wanted us boys to teach him all the ins and outs of a soldier's life. He had heard a good deal about picket post duty, and was awfully concerned lest he would bring up wanting in this capacity. Most of the boys found out, by what the raw recruit said about it. that his idea of picket post duty was being able to balance one's self on a picket post. So one day we knocked a picket off an old fence, stuck it in the ground, and told him to stand up on it and practice balancing awhile. Every man in the regiment kept his face as sober as a jiulgo, and the recruit worked away try- ing to balance himself on that picket post till he was all worn out. The captain of my company came up about dusk and saw what we were doing with the poor fellow, gave lis all a good blowing np, and comforted the recruit as best he could. Ever after that time that fellow went by the name of the Picket Post. But he was a brave sol- dier, and won a captain's laurels. With ^-^^ Kershaw sl at* Gettysburg. JULYS, W^ 1863. A Desperate Contest.— Confederates ^j|ja Win and Lose Little Round Top. ►E broke camp near Frederickslmrg, in June, 1863. Our march was through the towns of Culpeper, Win- chester, Martinsl^ui-g, and Chambersburg, and at the ^ latter j)lace we took a much needed rest of two or three days. On the morning of the 1st of July we started in the direction of Gettysburg, arriving near the battle field about dawn of the second, and halted in a clover field. After a short time we were ordered into line, and with beating hearts moved in the direc- tion of the enemy, thinking that we would soon l^e engaged in mortal combat. From some unexplained cause Kershaw's brig- ade was maneuvering near the Federal lines, until late in the afternoon. Just before sunset we were ordered to form line of battle on a slight eminence, in full view of Round Top, and also of the hills or ridge in the direction of Cemetery Hill, now occupied by Federal infantry. A level plain of half a mile or more was in our front, and near a peach orchard some eight hundred yards distant from our lines a battery was planted, commanding every foot of our advance. General Longstreet and his aids were in our front, scanning the strong and almost impregnable position of General Meade. The battery opened upon him, but the " old war horse" never flinched or changed his position until through with his observa- tions, when, shutting up his glass, and walking to the rear, he ordered Hood's brigade, on our immediate right, to advance. With a yell, the Texans rushed forward, sweeping everything before them, until they seemed to have reached the rummit of 228 CAMP AND FIELD. Little Round Top, when, for the want of support, tliey were compelled to retire. It has been years since I heard that yell, yet it seems to be now ringing in my ears. Kershaw's •brigfi.de moved over the level field in front of the battery near the orchard in perfect order, while grape and can- ister went crashing through the ranks. It seemed that none could escape. My face was fanned time and again by the deadly missiles. We arrived within one hundred yards of the battery with- out having fired a shot. The artillerists were limbering up their pieces to seemingly retire, for in a few minutes they would have been in our possession. At this particular minute we heard in a clear, ringing tone, above the din of conflict the command, "By the right flank!" True to our sense of duty we obeyed the command. Why it was given or by whom, the private soldiers and company officers could never learn. The artillerists, seeing our change of directions, returned to their guns and poured destruction into our fast thinning ranks. Tlie adjutant of my regiment was by my side when he was struck on the foot with a grape or canister shot, and painfully but not dangerously wounded. Wisliing to render him what aid I could, I asked what I could do for him. He said: "' Please cut off my boot." I immediately complied with his request, cutting it from top to toe. He took one swift, eager look at the battery, turned his back to the foe, and made the best time on record, until he reached a place of safety. I can see him run- ning now, with one foot naked, bleeding, and mangled, and the. other encased in a long cavalry boot. The gallant fellow sur- vived the war and has since been honored with public office. I have met him once only and when jestingly reminded of the great speed he made through the oat field, he did not seem to relish it. The battery of which I have been writing was after- ward captured by Barksdale's Miss, brigade, which was on our immediate left. Our troops were severely punished however. Night put an end to the conflict, and whien my regiment was reformed but a handful of men answered to their names at roll call. We bivouacked on the battle field and expected an early attack from the enemy, but no advance was made by either side until Pickett's tremendous assault and awful loss on the afternoon of the od. CAMP AND FIET.D. 229 UlvRIC Dahloren. A TRIBUTE TO A BRAVE OEKICER. REV. CHAS. W. DENISON. 'E met at Harper's Ferry, in the gorges of the hills, J™ Where, chasing the Potoinac, come leaping down the rills ; We stood in Union armor by Shenan- doah's tide, And ready for the battle ; Sigel was by our side. The frowning Heights of Maryland, with waving plumes of gray, Tln-ough the autunuial twilight bade grand adieus that day ; The table rock of Jefferson gloamed in the darkness there, And the spirits of the patriot seemed hovering in the air. O, scene of desolation ! The guilt and woe and shame Of slavery in rebellion had burnt the land with flame ; The sleep of Justice wakened by Mon- ticello's grave, And in conflict with the master she sided with the slave. In that historic temple where Wash- ington had stood, Before the shattered altars in old Vir- ginia's wood, Young Dahlgren raised his sworded hand and sacredly he vowed, " My country's banner shall prevail, or be my winding shroud." So spoke the boy that evening ; then dashed along the right, And in the name of Freedom put slavish hordes to fliglit ; At Fredericksburg embattled, he strode the crimson field. His watchword of the column, " To traitors nevej' yield ! " Through the dark haze of Gettysburg he flashed a living flame, And on the scroll of heroes wrote his own immortal name ; With the torn flag of Hagerstown his body shrouded round. He . fought oppression's myrmidons stretched bleeding on the ground ; Then, torn and nuiimed and weak, he rose as valiant as of yore ; He was of age that day of grace — he was a man before. O manful boy ! O youthful peer ! O Ulric, the brave ! The proudest of thy pa^triot deeds shall monument thy grave ; Around thy hidden sod at night the grateful slave shall cling, And in fond tones tln'ough Libby's cells thy requiem shall ring. Almost alone, without the ti-ump and blazonry of war. In darkness, hand to hand with death, thou wert death's conqueror. Above that spot our flag will float, but not thy shroud ; 'twill be The pennon call to avenge thy fall borne over land and sea; With Winthrop and with Lyon, with Foote and Shaw art thou, And Dahlgren shines with them hence- forth on Freedom's starry brow. THIRD DAY AT GETTYSBURG. General Pickett's Brave Charge and Repulse. JULY 8, 1868. WILLIAM MILLER OWEN, Colonel Battalion Washington Artillery. T daybreak, the 3d of July, 1863, we were awakened in front of Gettysburg by the booming of cannon over toward the peach orchard, where Longstreet's corps had fought on the afternoon of the 3d, Saddling our we rode in the direction of the firing, which ceased before we reached the battery engaged. I was acting on that memorable day as adjutant of the artillery division of Longstreet's corps, under Col. J. B. Walton, chief of artillery. We were with the artillery officers, Bitting upon our horses, in a little oak grove near the peach orchard, await- ing the opening of the fray, when a courier rode up and handed Colonel Walton a dispatch. It was from General Longstreet, requesting Colonel Walton to come TO headquarters on the field. We put our horses to a gallop, and when we reached the spot indicated, met there several division commanders and Gen. R. E. Lee. A plan of attack was being discussed. At a given signal — the firing of two guns by the Washington Artillery at the peach orchard — all the Confederate guns were to open upon the enemy's position, to prepare the way for our infantry to attack. The assaulting column was to consist of Pickett's division, sup- ported left by Heth's division of A. P. Hill's corps, and right by Wilcox's division. CAMP AND FIELD. 231 I was directed to notify the commanders of battalions to open fire upon hearing the signal. Upon my return to General Long- street I found him dismounted and talking with General Pickett. The general said: "'All right; tell Colonel Walton I will send him word w^hen to open." At 1.30 P.M. a courier dashed up in great haste, holding a little slip of paper, torn from a memorandum book, and addressed to Colonel Walton. Headquarters, July 3, 1863. Colonel — Let the batteries open. Order great care and precision in firing. If the batteries at the peacli orcliard cannot be used against the point we intend attacking, let them open on the enemy on the rocky hill. Most respectfully, J. Long street, Lieutenant-General Commanding. The order to fire the signal guns was immediately communi- cated to Major Eshleman, commanding the Washington Artil- lery, and the report of the guns rang out upon the still summer air. Then came a roar and a fiash, and 138 pieces of Confed- erate artillery opened upon the enemy's position. The deadly work began with the noise of heaviest thunder, echoing and re-echoing among the hills and valleys of Pennsylvania. The Federal artillery, numbering almost as many guns as the Confederate, replied immediately, and the battle of the 3d of July had opened. Shot and shell tore through the air and plowed great furrows in the fields, and crashed through batteries, tearing men and horses to pieces. It was a grand but terrific sight. For forty minutes the dreadful din continued, until the can- noneers, exhausted with their work, and fainting from the heat of that July day, slackened the fire, and finally hardly a gun w^as heard from either combatants. Then Pickett's brave Vir- ginians formed for the assault, their gallant commander rid- ing up and down his lines, talking calmly to officers and men. Longstreet could not bear to give the order to throw these men against the breastworks of the enemy, and when at last Pickett said, "Shall 1 go forward, sir?" Longstreet turned away his head. Pickett, proudly and impetuously said, with the air of an old crusader, " Sir, I shall lead my division forward." Orders from the officers now rang out, " Attention! " and the brave fellows could be heard calling out to friends and com- rades a few files from them, " Good-by, boys! good-by!" The 232 CAME' AND FIELR. final order came from Pickett himself, who, superbly mounted, seemed the very incarnation of war. '"Column for- ward! guide center!" and the brigades of Kemper, Armistead, and Garnett moved forward in common time, their battle flags fluttering as they passed over the greensward. It was nearly a mile they had to charge, and the enemy's artillery made great gaps in the ranks, which were closed up as fast as made. Heth's division, under General Pettigrew, emerged from the timber, and followed Pickett on his left flank and in echelon. Wilcox moved out upon his right. Pickett's lines were seen to halt, and u^ider a tremendous fire he changed direction by an oblique movement, beautifully, coolly, and deliberately made. They then advanced again and the Confederate artillery re- opened, firing over the heads of the advancing lines. Forward the brave Virginians went until they were within range of the Federal infantry behind the stone walls on Ceme- tery Hill. Then the blue line arose, and poured a deadly fire into the Confederate ranks. The Confederates responded with a wild yell and pushed on unfalteringly. A body of Federals were seen emerging from a clump of trees on the left of Petti- grew. Taken by surprise they faltered, and fell back, as the best troops will do when taken at a disadvantage. Pickett's men had crossed the Federal lines and had laid their hands upon eleven of the enemy's cannon, and were in the full flush of victory, when news came to Pickett, conveyed by Colonel Latrobe of Longstreet's staff, of the disaster that had befallen his supports. He galloped back to try and rally the fugitives, but they could not form under that storm. Finding himself unsupported, each of his flanks assailed, his generals, Kemper, Armistead, and Garnett, and all of his field officers killed or wounded, his men falling by scores around him, he gave his orders to fall back. "Wagram"had been eclipsed, and they had won undying renown. Whenever Gettysburg is spoken off. by friend or foe, the charge of Pickett and his men will be recalled with the same pride Englishmen feel when speaking of Balaklava. ^^s^^-i) Battle of Prairie Grove. A HIGHLY IMPORTANT CAMPAIGN IN 1862. THE PART PLAYED BY SOME OF THE WESTERN TROOPS. AN LNFAMOUS ADDRESS BY THE REBEL HINDMAN. COLONEL H. A. STARR, 20th WISCONSIN. JHIS battle was fought at a time when the eyes of the country were turned toward the East, and over- shadowed b}' the engagements around Fredericks- burg, Virginia, and Perryville, etc., in Tennessee. It was a battle of prominence and of great import to Missouri, Western Arkansas and Kansas, for if the Confederates had won the fight, there was nothing to prevent them from over-running Missouri from the w^est to St. Louis on the Mississippi river and no obstacles in their way to Western Arkansas or Kansas; but the God of battles decided otherwise, and now when we take a retrospective view of aftairs, we wonder that things are thus. Prairie Grove, or IllinoisCreek, about ten miles south-west of Fayetteville, is a vale of about a mile in length, from 300 to 600 yards wide, in shape like a horseshoe, with the creek running the north side of the vale; on the north side, the woods slope grad- ually to the creek, and on the south side is a high wooded bluff. The situation of the Arm\^ of the Frontier was as follows : General Pilunt, with the First division, at Cane Hill and Rhea's Mills. Colonel Houston, with Second division, was in camp 22 miles south of Springfield. Missouri, and General Herron, with the Third division, was at Wilson's Creek, Missouri, 110 miles awav. On the second of December, General Blunt, having reliable in- formation that the rebel Generals, Hindman andMarmaduke.had 234 CAMP AND FIELD. united their forces at Lee's Creek, 14- miles north of Van Buren, Arkansas, and numbering between 25,000 and 30,000 men, with the intention of attacking him, immediately dispatched couriers to the Second division (Colonel Houston) and Third division (General Herron) to come immediately to his support. In three hours after receipt of the order, the Third division was on the march and the Second division shorth' after. Determining to hold his position at Cane Hill, General Blunt established a strong picket force at the junction of the road from Van Buren and also where that road intersects the Cave Creek road from Fayetteville to Van Buren, which roads pass about six miles east of Cane Hill. On the morning of the fifth instant, this out-post, composed of the Second Kansas cavalry, was attacked by the rebel cavalry, but were repulsed. On the attack being re- newed the next morning, the Second Kansas were forced to retire three miles, when support having reached them, the\' held their ground during the day, but the rebs had got possession of the Cave Creek and Fayetteville road and were moving on the sixth with 15,000 men, and were making a flank movement to inter- cept Herron's division and prevent his junction with Blunt's iorces, rebel General Marmaduke at the same time making a feint in front of General Blunt to prevent him from assisting Her- ron, while the balance of Hindman's artillery and infantry, about 15,000 men, were moving to meet Herron. It was early in the morning of the seventh that Herron's advance cavalry imder Colonel L.R. Harrison, were surprised at breakfast, bv the rebels, and the majority of them captured, including Major Hubbard, of General Herron's stafi', who was immediately interviewed bv General Hindman, in the hopes of ascertaining the position, strength and quality of the Union troops, but the interview was not satisfactory to the rebel general, and induced him to be more cautious in his operations when he was informed that the Union troops were composed of Iowa, Illinois, Indiana and Wisconsin men, when he had been informed otherwise. The portion of the First Arkansas cavalry regiment who got awavcame flyingback, and, rushing into the First brigade of General Herron's ad- vance, were immediately stopped, and Lieutenant Colonel Bert- ram, commanding First brigade, instantly deployed two com- panies of his command, each side of the road, who gave a couple of volleys to the rebs in pursuit which sent them flving back. The First brigade was deplo3'ed to the right of the road and the Second to the left and moved forward to the Illinois Creek, where line of battle was formed and in support of battery "L" Missouri CAMP AND FIELD. ZoO light artillery, Captain Back of First brigade, Colonel Bertram commanding, and battery "E" Missouri light artillery, Lieuten- ant Foust supported by Second brigade, ColoneOrme, command- ing. Colonel Houston, commanding Second division, with two brigades formed on the right of the Third division. The rebels \vere well posted on the south side of the valley on the brow of the hill. Batteries "L" and "E" opened on the enemy for about half an hour, when Colonel Bertram of the First brigade, whose force at this time comprised the Twentieth Wisconsin Infantry, Major H. A. Starr, and battery "L" (his cavalry the Tenth Illinois, First Iowa, and First battalion of the Second Wisconsin, having been ordered on the fifth to report to General Blunt at Cane Hill) noticed a battery getting into position on the brow of the hill opposite; the order to advance was given, and leaving the battery, which they were supporting, marched across the valley. It was a fine sight to see this regiment moving in line of battle, not 400 strong, with colors flving, and bright arms glistening in the sun. The rebel battery was passed, its guns spiked, and forward they moved into an ambush of death; three thousand rebs awaited till they got within a few yards, and opened a terrible fire, which was returned by the regiment, holding their own as long as possible. The order to break to the rear was given, and they fell back and reformed on their first position, leaving 217 killed and wounded on the hill. It was there the entire color guard and two color bearers, and the brave Captain McDermott of Boscobel, and Lieutenant Bintlifif of Darlington, Captain Weber of Watertown, and Lieutenant G. W. Root of Ripon, were killed. Captain J. Ferguson of Milwaukee, Lieutenant Nathan Cole of Cheboygan, Lieutenant A. F. Blake of Racine, as well as eight other oflicers, were severely wounded. The Nineteenth Iowa followed the movement, en echelon, on the left of the Twentieth Wisconsin, and were driven back with loss of their Lieutenant-Colonel McFarland, five officers and 187 men. The Thirty-seventh Illinois, Lieutenant-Colonel J. C. Black, made the charge over the ground of the Nineteenth Iowa and ^vere forced back with a loss of three officers and 72 men. Colonel Black being severely wounded. The Twenty-sixth Indiana, Colonel J. G. Clark, followed the Thirty-seventh Illinois, and were driven back with a loss of eight officers and 193 men. These charges were desperate, but struck a terror in the rebel ranks and proved that they were not contending with Pin Indians or hired cut throats. 2^6 CAMP AND FIELD. The Twentieth Iowa, Lieutenant J. B. Leake, was active on the extreme right, and supporting Rabb's Second Indiana battery; charging forward into the wood the^^ held their ground for fifteen or twenty minutes, but were compelled to retire to position near the battery, the battery meanwhile firing over their heads. Per- ceiving a force approaching on their right, they changed front, but it proved to be General Blunt, with a portion of the First division, who, forming on the right of the Second division, opened on the rebs in a decided manner and at a most opportune mo- ment, for the rebs were massing a large body for the purpose of flanking General Herron's right when they were confronted by the reinforcements of the First division (General Blunt). The Ninet^'-fourth Illinois, Lieutenant-Colonel J. McNulty, was gallantlv engaged on the extreme left protecting the flank and successfully opposed several charges of the enemy ; their loss dur- ing the day was one killed and thirty-three wounded. Rabb's batter}^ opened the ball for General Blunt, and a few minutes after, Tenny's battery of Parrot guns, on the right ot Rabb, and Hopkins' battery on the left of Rabb, opened on a large body of infantry and two rebel batteries with shell and case shot, with terrible effect. General Blunt, observing that the enemf was throwing a large force on his center and right, directed the infantry of the First division. Colonel Weer, Tenth and Thirteenth Kansas ; Second Kansas, dismounted. Captain Crawford; right wing of the Eleventh Kansas, Colonel Ewing, Jr. ; First Indiana, Colonel Wattles; the Twentieth Iowa, Lieutenant-Colonel Leake, on the left of the Indian regiment, to enter the wood and engage the rebel force, wdio outnumbered the Union troops three to one. The contest was vigorous, and each of the forces swaj'^ed to and fro, alternately advancing and retiring. Lieutenant Stover was directed to advance into the wood with his two 12-pounder mountain Howitzers, and take position on a knoll and direct his guns across a field where a force of rebels Avere massed. He poured in canister and shell until his horses were shot down and ammunition exhausted, and was compelled to bring his guns off by hand. Lieutenant Tenn}^ advanced his battery to the edge of the woods, about two hundred yards in front of the rebel ranks. From his six 10-pounder Parrots he opened with terrible effect, and drove them with great slaughter. The First Iowa, Tenth Illinois, Eighth Missouri and first bat- talion Second Wisconsin cavalry, and Third Wisconsin cavalry, under Colonel Wickersham, were ordered to the CAMP AND FIT^LD. 237 extreme right to watch any flank movement of the enemy that might be attempted, and aiso guard the road to Rhea's Mills, and keep open communication with the First brigade (General Solomon). A heavy force of rebs massing on the right, General Blunt withdrew Lieutenant Tennv's batterv, and moved to an open field on the right, and the infantry from, the wood, in order to draw the enemy within range of the artil- lery, and at this moment General Frost's rebel division advanced to within two hundred yards, and opened a brisk fire with Enfield muskets, and were in the act of throwing down a fence to make an assault on the battery, when Lieutenant Tenny instantly wheeled his Parrot guns into position, and with his canister and shell sent the rebs back to the woods. At the same time, two mountain Howitzers, attached to the Third Wisconsin cavalry, Lieutenant-Colonel Calkins, were directed at them with good ef- fect (it was at this point the rebel General Steen was killed). A few minutes after this last repulse of the enemy by Lieutenant Tenny, a rebel battery of ten guns opened from their extreme left, w^hen Tenny 's guns were brought to bear on them, dismoimt- ing two of their pieces, and driving them from their position with heavy loss. While this demonstration was made on General Blunt's right, the same was made on Rabb's and Hopkins' bat- teries on his left, the rebels following up the infantry, as they fell back through the wood, with yells, when the two batteries, sup- ported by the Eleventh Kansas infantry, sent a storm of canister into their ranks, compelling them to retire with great slaughter. Darkness approaching, the firing, which had been incessant for three hours, gradually ceased along the entire line, and the differ- ent commands bivouacked on the field, read\' to renew the con- flict the next morning. The wounded were cared for during the night, ammunition dis- tributed, and General Solomon's brigade, which had been left at Rhea's Mills, ordered to the front. Before daylight, under a flag of truce, a note was received from General Hindman, asking for a personal interview, and the fol- lowing conversation was had : General Hindman — "Ah, General Blunt, it would please me to have a fight with your forces on an open field." General Blunt— "I will do it, sir; I am ready this moment." General Herron — "General Blunt knows that he is verv safe in making the proposition • his forces are at least twelve miles away in full retreat back over the Boston mountnins." General Hindman — " Iseevouareawarc of all our movements." 238 CAMP AND FIELD, The rebs did not stop their flight till they were across the Bos- ton mountains to Van Buren, on the Arkansas river. General Hindman admitted his force to be 28,000, while the Union forces engaged did not exceed 7,000, about 3,000 cavalry not being brought into action. The flag of truce and application for interview, made by Gener- al Hindman, was for the purpose of more efl'ectually covering their retreat, and during the interview the Twentieth Wisconsin and another regiment were moved forward over the battle-field. A large number of Enfield rifles and ammunition, with which their troops were armed, of English make, were gathered up. The loss of the rebs was about 3,000, and 1,000 killed were buried on the field by the Union troops. The Union loss in killed and wounded was 1,251. The work of the artillery in the battle could not be surpassed, and it was this superiority that won the fight; they were veter- ans, all having been in battle before, either at Pea Ridge, Wilson's Creek, or Cross Hollow. Each company- did its full duty. Cap- tain D. Murphy, battery F, First Missouri artillery, and Lieuten- ant J. Foust, battery E, First Missouri, fired over 1,000 shot and shell into the enemy's ranks. Three of the rebel batteries were totally disabled. The forced march of the Third division of 110 miles, and the Second division of 100 miles in three days, was a severe one, and on the morning of the seventh, when they had reached Fayette- ville, there was not a sound foot in the whole command, and many without shoes, and in ragged clothing; but the inspiring fife and drum, the firing of cannon and rattle of musketrv drives away all thought of personal discomfort, and aroused that hero- ism and valor to which the enemy succumbed on this occasion. The total casualties in the Army of the Frontier were : First Division — General J. F. Blunt. Loss. First Brigade, (General F. Solomon 1 Second Brij^adc, Colonel Weer 13S Third Brigade, Colonel W. F. AlcCloud 71 Second Division — Colonel D. Houston. First Brigade, Colonel J. F. Clark 343 Second Brigade, Colonel W. E. McE. Dye 154. Third Division — General F. J. Herron. First Brigade, Lieutenant-Colonel H. Bertram 223 Second Brigade, Colonel W. W. Orme 248 Escort and unattached 73 Total ,1,251 CAMP AND FIELD. 239 The following circular was printed and scattered by the rebel commander to his soldiers prior to the battle at Prairie Grove: Headquarters First Corps, Trans-Mississippi Army,\ In the Field, December 4, 1862. j Soldiers: From the commencement to the end of the battle, bear in mind what I now urge upon you : First. Never fire because your comrades do, nor because the enemy does ; nor because you see the enem_y ; nor for the sake of firing rapidly. Always wait until they are certainly within the range of your gun, then single out your man, take deliberate aim, as low as the knee, and fire. Second. When occasion offers, be certain to pick off theenemv's officers, especially the mounted ones, and to kill his artillery horses. Third. Do not shout except when you charge the enemy. As a general thing, keep silent, that orders may be heard. Obey the orders of your officers, but pay no attention to idle rumors, or the words of unauthorized persons. Fourth. Do not stop with your wounded comrades; the sur- geons and infirmary corps will take care of them ; do you go for- ward and avenge them. Fifth. Do not break ranks to plunder. If we whip the enemy, all he has will be ours; if not, the spoil will be of no benefit to us. Plunderers and stragglers will be put to death on the spot. File-closers are especially charged with this duty. The cavalry in rear will likewise attend to it. Remember that the enemy you engage has no feelings of mercy or kindness toward you. His ranks are made up of Pin Indians, free negroes, Southern tories, Kansas jayhawkers and hired Dutch cut-throats. These bloody ruffians have invaded your country, stolen and destroyed your property, murdered your neighbors, outraged your women, driven your children from their homes, and defiled the graves of your kindred. If each man of vou will do what I have here urged upon you, we will utterly destroy them. We can do this; we must do it; our country will be ruined if we fail. A just God will strengthen our arms and give us a glorious victory. T. C. Hindman, Major-General Commanding. 240 CAMP AND FIELD. All Oiiiet Alonof the Potomac To-Night. 7^-^i-^r << i| LL quiet along the Potomac to- The moon seems to shine as brightly ^It night," as when U^ Except here and there a stray That night when the love yet uu- YoP picket spoken Js shot, as he walks on his beat, to and Leaped up to his lips, and when low fi-o, murmured vows By a rifleman hid in the thicket. Were pledged to be ever unbroken. .n,. ^1 . • i. 4. A Then drawing his sleeve roughly over 'Tis nothing ; a private or two now and ^ » * -^ then ^""^ ''^^'' ■„».„ , i- • +v e ^t +i.„ He dashes off the tears that are Vi ill not coinit m the news ot the battle; welling, ■sj . on ' 1 4- 1 f +1 ,. ^, And oathers his gun close up to his Not an officer lost, only one oi the men, » & i Moaning out all alone the death rat- *^^ , , As if to keep down the heart s swell- ing. " All quiet along the Potomac to-night," ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^^^^.^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^^ pj^^ Where the soldiers lie peaceiully , , . tree J dreaming, , , , And his footstep is lagging and And their tents in the rays oi the clear •^ weary, autumn moon ,^ , , , ,, i ^i i i . , ^ , ^ Yet onward he goes, through the broad And the light of the camp-fires are . , f Tol f g earning. Towards the shades of the forest so dreary. There's only the sound of the lone sen- try's tread jj^rk ! was it the night wind that As he tranips from the rock to the j.^^g^^gg ^i^g leaves? louiitam, Was it the moonlight so wondrously And thinks of the two on the low flashino? trundle-bed j^. looked like a rifle. "Ha, Mary, Far away in the cot on the mountain. oood-bv^" And his life blood is ebbing and His musket falls slack ; his face, dark plashing, and grim. Grows gentle with memories tender, *'A11 quiet along the Potomac to-night." As he mutters a prayer for the chil- No sound save the rush of the river, dren asleep. While soft falls the dew on the face of And their mother — " may heaven de- the dead, fend lier." The picket's off duty forever. (irant mi tlu' Field. W//M//M//M//^//^//^//^//^//^//^' GRANT'S ■""f Quotations from His Speeches and Conversations. His Opinions of Generals and Great EventSi The Man's Common Sense and Modesty Illustrated. (THIRTY-EIGHT PARAGRAPHS.) ^■iC->5 ^-^-t^. During the puhlic careei' of this illustrious man, mid while on his tour around the world {such a journey no man of this generation can hope to parallel), he gave utter- ance to many expressions that will live for centuries. Here are a few of the promi- nent ones. ET us have peace. — First inaugu- ral address. If I can mount a hor.se I can ride hirn, and all the attendants can do is to keep away. — Private conversation. I voted for Buchanan because . ,, p . t i T 1 T^ i. r . • AH 01 it. I should like to live all oi 1 knew Jbremont. — Interview. my life over again. There isn't any I never had time. — To an officer ask- part of it I should want to leave out. — ing if he ever felt fear on the battle f eld. Conversation, hut before he met F. Ward. I propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer. — In the Wilder- ness, 1864. The young men of the country have a peculiar interest in maintaining the national honor. — First inaugural Labor disgraces no man ; unfortu- nately, you occasionally find men dis- grace labor. — To Midland International Arbitration Union, Birmingham, Eng. When wars do come, they fall upon the many, the producing class, who are the sufferers. — Newcastle speech. Although a soldier by profession, I have never felt any sort of fondness for fall upon war, and I have never advocated it ex- cept as a means of peace. — Speech at London. 242 CAMP AND FIELD The battle of Lookout Mountain is one of the romances of the war. There was no such battle, nor any action there worthy to be called a battle. It is all poetry. — Conversation. No terms other than unconditional and immediate surrender can be accepted. I propose to move immediately on your works. — Afessafje to General Buckner at Fort Donelsoji, 1862. I long to see a jjeriod of repose in our politics that would make it a mat- ter of indifference to patriotic men which ]iarty is in power. I never re- moved men from office because they were Democrats. I never thought of such a thing. — Conversation. Leave the matter of religion to the family altar, the church and the private scliool, supported entirely by private contributions. Keep the church and state for ever separate. — Des Moines speech, 1875. I don't believe in strategy in the popular understanding of the term. I use it to get up just as close to the enemy as practicable with as little loss of life as possible. Then, up guards, and at 'em. — In conversation. I am a soldier, and, as you know, a soldier must die. I have been Presi- dent, but we know that the term of presidency expires; and when it has expired he is no more than a dead soldier. — 7o the mayor of Liverpool. I regard Sheridan as not only one of the great soldiers of the war, but one of the great soldiers of the world — a man fit for the highest commands. No better general ever lived than Sheridan. — lalk icith Bismarck, 1877. Butler as a general was full of enter, prise and resources, and was a brave man. * * * Butler is a man it is a fashion to abuse, but he is a man who has done the country great service and is worthy of its gratitude. — In a conver- sation. I appreciate the fact, and am proud of it, that the attentions I am receiv- ing are intended more for our country than for me personally. — Letter from London to G. W. Childs, June, 1877. I yield to no one in my admiration of Thomas. He was one of the finest characters of the war. He was slow and cautious. We differed about the Nashville campaign, but the success of his campaign will be his vindication against my criticisms. — A conversation. It has been my misfortune to be en'- gaged in more battles than any other general on the other side of the Atlan- tic ; but there was never a time during my command when I would not have chosen some settlement by reason rather than the sword. — A conversation. The one thing I never want to see again is a military parade. When I resigned from the army and went to a farm I was happy. When the rebel- lion came I returned to the service be- cause it was a duty. I had no thought of rank ; all I did was to try and make myself useful. — In conversation loith the Duke of Canihridf/e. T never held a council of war in my life. I heard what men had to say — the stream of talk at headquarters — • but I made up my own mind, and from my written orders my staff got their first knowledge of wliat was to be done. No living man knew of plans until they were matured and decided. — Conversation. CAMP AND FIELD. 243 As a commander of troops, as a man capable of doing all that is possible with any number of men, there is no man living greater than Sheridan. I rank him with Napoleon and the great captains of history. He had a mag- netic quality of swaying men which I wish 1 had. — Talk with J. R. Young. The most troublesome men in public life are those over-righteous people who see no motives in other people's actions but evil motives ; who believe all public life is corrupt and nothing is well done unless they do it themselves. — Speaking of advocates of reform. There are many men who would have done better than I did under the circumstances in which I found myself. If I had never held command; if I had fallen, there were 10,000 behind who would have followed the contest to tlie end and never surrendered the Union. — Con versation. I believe that my friend Sherman could have taken my place as a soldier as well as I could, and the same will apply to Sheridan. And I believe that if our country ever comes into trial again, young men will spi-ing up equal to the occasion, and if one fails there will be another to take his place, just as there was if I had failed. — Philadel- phia speech, 1877. Speaking of the great men I have met in Europe, I regard Bismarck and Gambetta as the greatest. I saw a good deal of Bismarck, and had long talks with him. He impresses you as a great man. Gambetta also greatly impressed me. I was much pleased with the republican leaders in France. — Conversation. Lincoln was iucontestably the great- est man I ever knew. What marked him was his sincerity, his kindness, his clear insight into affairs, his firm will, and clear policy. I always found him jireeminently a clean-minded man. The darkest day of my life was that of Lincoln's assassination. — Conversation. I do not want to detract from other civilizations, but I believe that we [English-speaking people] possess the highest civilization. There is the strongest bond of union between the Englisli-speaking people, and that bond sliould and will serve to extend the greatest good to the greatest number. That will always be my delight. — Speech at banquet at Newcastle, Eng. I always had an aversion to Napoleon and the whole family. When I was in Denmark, I declined seeing the prince imperial. I did not wish to see him. The first Emperor had great genius, but was one of the most selfish and cruel men in history. I see no redeem- ing trait in his character. The third Napoleon was even worse, the especial enemy of America and of liberty. — Conversation. I never liked service in the army. I did not wish to go to West Point. My father had to use his authority to make me go. I never went into a battle willingly or with enthusiasm. I never want to command another army. It was only after Donelson that I began to see how important was the work that Providence devolved upon me. T did not want to be made lieutenant- general. I did not want the presi- dency, and have never quite forgiven myself for resigning the command of the army to accept it. — Conversation. 244 CAMP AND FIELD, We will not deny to any of those who fought against us any privileges under the government which we claim for ourselves ; on the contrary, we welcome all such who come forward in good faith to help build up the waste places and to perpetuate ovir institutions against all enemies, as brothers in full interest with us in a common heritage ; but we are not prepared to apologize for the part we took in the war. — Speech at Des Moines, 1875. Stonewall Jackson was a courageous, energetic, deeply religious man, and a fine soldier, but it is questionable whether his great reputation is justified by his campaigns in Virginia. He had very commonplace men to deal with. If he had met Sheridan, and had tried on him, or on any of our great gener- als, the. tactics which he attempted suc- cessfully on inferior captains, he would have been beaten and destroyed. — A conversation. My advice to Sunday-schools, no mat- ter what their denomination, is: Hold fast to the Bible as the sheet-anchor of your liberties; write its precepts in your hearts, and practice them in your lives. To the influence of this book we are indebted for all the progress made in true civilization, and to this we must look as our guide in the future. " Righteousness exalteth a nation ; but sin is a reproach to any people." — To Siinday-sclwol children, June, 1876. I believe Porter to be as great an admiral as Lord Nelson. He was- always ready for every emergency and every responsibility. The country has never done him the justice that history will do him. He has undoubted cour- age and genius. * * * Jt, would have been a great thing for Porter if he had never been able to read and write. — Con versatinn . I tried hard to be friendly with Greeley, and went out of my w'ay to court him ; but, somehow, we never be- came cordial. He had strange notions about the kind of men who should take office. He seemed to believe that,, when a man was a helpless creature, a burden to his friends and drifting be- tween the jail and the poorhouse, he should have an oflice. — From an inter- I am conscientiously, and have been from the beginning, an advocate of what the society rej^resented by you is trying to carry out, and nothing would afford me greater happiness than to know that, as I believe will be the case, at some future day, the nations of the earth will agree upon some sort of con- gress, which will take cognizance of international questions of difficulty, and whose decisions will be as binding as the decisions of our Supreme Court are upon us. It is a dream of mine that some such solution may be. — To Arbitra- tion Union, Birmingham, CAMP AND FIELD. 245 THE ADVx\NCK OUARD. BY JOH^f HAY. ^N the dream of the Northern poets, ll The brave who in battle die ^ Fight on in shadowy phalanx In tiie field of the upper sky ; And as we read the sounding rhyme The reverent fancy hears The ghostly ring of the viewless swords And the clash of the spectral spears. We think with imperious questionings Of the brothers that we have lost, And we strive to track in death's mys- tery The flight of each valiant ghost. The northern myth comes back to us, And we feel through our sorrow's night That those young souls are striving still Somewhere for the truth and light. It was not their time for rest and sleep ; Their hearts beat high and strong ; In their fresh veins the blood of youth AVas singing its hot, sweet song. The open heaven bent over them, ]\Iid flowers their lithe feet trod ; Their lives lay vivid in light, and blest By the smiles of women and God. Again they come ! Again I hear The tread of the goodly band, I know that flash of Ellsworth's eye And the grasp of his hard, warm hand ; And Putnam, and Shaw, of the lion heart. And an eye like a Boston girl's, And I see the light of heaven which shone On Ulric Dahlgren's curls. There is no powder in the gloom of hell To quench those spirits' fire, There is no charm in the bliss of heaven To bid them not as2:)ire ; But somewhere in the eternal plan That strength, that life survive, And like the files on Lookout's crest. Above Death's clouds they strive. A chosen corps — they are marching on In a wider field than ours ; Those bright battalions still fulfill The scheme of the heavenly power ; And high, brave thoughts float down to us The echoes of that far fight, Like the flash of a distant picket's guns Through the shades of the severing night. No fear of them ! In our lower field Let us toil with arms luistained. That at last we be worthy to stand with them On the shining heights they've gained. We shall meet and greet in closing ranks. In Time's declining sun. When the buglers of God shall sound recall, And the battle of life be won ! ,W stoNe River. THK STRUGGLE BETWEEN ROSECRANS AND BRAGG AT MTTRFREESBORO. THE EXPERIENCE OF A REGIMENT THAT WAS VERY MUCH "IN IT." BY W. F. HINMAN, 65th OHIO. ipN the last day of October, 1862, General Buell was relieved from the command of what was then known as the , . Army of the Ohio — a few weeks later reorganized as the 'Hii^r^^ Army of the Cumberland. Buell's campaigns had not been satisfactory to the government at Washington or to the peo- ple of the country, who were impatient for decisive results. He had organized a splendid army but had failed to accomplish with it what was expected. The new commander was General W. S. Rosecrans, who, as long as there are any of them left, will be affec- tionately remembered by the boys who fought with him at Stone River and Chickamauga as "Old Ros3^" After Chickamauga his star declined. He was sent to the rear "under a cloud," but his soldiers never ceased to regard him with the love that soldiers al- ways have for a brave and kind leader. The inconclusive battle of Penny ville had been fought and was succeeded by the fruitless chase after Bragg to the mountain passes of Eastern Kentucky, through which he successfully es- caped with his gray-coat/"^^ host into Tennessee. During Novem- ber the Union army was concentrated at Nashville and the Con- federate army at Alurfreesboro, some thirty miles to the south- ward. General Rosecrans was wearing fresh laurels as a fighter, won at Tuka and in Corinth. His operations in Mississippi had added much to the reputation he had gained in Western Virginia CAMP AND FIELD. 247 General Rosecrans was warmly welcomed by the soldiers. They had been campaigning for a year under Buell without any- thing visible having been accomplished. They believed that war meant fighting. They onh' wanted a leader. Six weeks were spent in putting the army in shape for an aggressive move- ment, marching orders were issued on Christmas day for the following morning. The sick and all surplus baggage were sent back to Nashville, arms and accouterments were put in order and everv man was supplied with sixty rounds of ammunition. All dav and night the soldiers were busy with the work of prepara- tion. Soon after daylight on December 26, the army in three columns — McCook's corps on the right, Thomas' the centre and Crit- tenden's the left — drew out on different roads leading toward Murfreesboro. The army was alive with patriotism and enthu- siasm for its new leader. The soldiers knew that the rebel army could only be conquered b}^ fighting. They were willing to face the storm of battle, with all its dangers to life and limb. Their long, weary marches under Buell had resulted in little except to deplete the ranks of the regiments and fill the hospitals with men worn with fatigue and exposure. They put their faith in "Old Rosev" and the splendid courage which they showed under his leadership was never excelled in the history of war. The Sixty-fifth Ohio, to which I belonged, was part of the Third brigade. First Division, Crittenden's corps. The other or- ganizations which composed it were the Sixty-fourth Ohio, Lieu- tenant-colonel Mclllvaine; Thirteenth Michigan, Colonel Shoe- maker; Fifty-first Indiana, Colonel Streight,; Seventy-third In- diana, Colonel Hathaway; Sixth Ohio battery. Captain Bradley. The brigade was commanded by Colonel Charles G. Harker of the Sixty-fifth Ohio, Lieutenant-colonel Cassil commanding that regiment. "Tommy " Wood rode at the head of the division. We marched on the direct road to Murfreesboro. Early in the day the advance stirred up the enemy's cavalry pickets, and there was constant skirmishing. The rattle of musketry and the occasional roar of artillery kept the boys pricking up their ears. They knew not what moment they would bump against some- thing solid and have a fight. Indeed, there were several sharp engagements resulting in a considerable number of killed and wounded on both sides. When pressed, the Confederates with- drew, slowly and stubbornly falling back upon their main posi- tion at Murfreesboro. Four days were spent in covering the distance to that place. 248 CAMP AND FIELD. There was a dash and a "get there " in the army, from Old Rosey down to the high private in the rear rank, that presaged success in the mighty grapple soon to occur. On the evening of December 29, Wood's division which was in the advance of Crittenden's corps, reached the bank of Stone River. A mile away, on the other side, we could see the spires of Murfreesboro. General Rosecrans ordered General Crittenden to occupy the tow^n immediately -wath one of his divisions, and Wood was directed to cross the river at once. It was a hazardous movement — one that would not have been thought of for an instant if the real condition of things on the other side had been known. There was a large force of the enemy under Breckenridge in an en- trenched position on the crest of the ridge half a mile from the river. But soldiers must obey orders, and, though not without some misgivings. Marker's brigade, which was leading, plunged into the water, in places hip deep, and went splashing over. The twilight was fast deepening and it was nearly dark as w^e hastily reformed and moved up the hill through a cornfield in which the stalks were yet standing. No braver man than Colonel Harker ever drew sword. He realized the extreme danger of the move- ment and the jeopardy in which his command was placed, with the darkness coming on, an unknown enemy in front and the river behind. Inspired by his example, the troops steadily advanced until about half way up the acclivity, Avhen there came a furious volley of musketry from a blazing line upon the crest. As usual, under such conditions, the aim was too high and but few of the balls took effect. But they whizzed above our heads and rattled among the dry cornstalks in a way that was not at all pleasant. By this time General Rosecrans had come in person to the river to direct the movement. A hasty view of the situation convinced him that the advance was a mistake and he at once ordered the troops to be recalled. HascalTs brigade and Bradley's battery were already in the river advancing to our sup]Dort. These were turned about and a staff officer directed Harker to withdraw and re-cross the river. This was successfully accomplished, thanks to Colonel Harker's consummate adroitness. We breathedfreelvonce more as we stood, with soaked and dripping garments, on the safe side of the stream. We moved back a mile to the rear, made fires, dried our clothes and prepared our suppers of coffee, hard- tack and swine's flesh. That night we picketed the river, exchanging occasional shots with the other fellows. Tuesda\', thirtieth, was given up to CAMP AND FIELD. 249 perfecting arrangements for the attack upon the enem}-, which was to be made at daylight of the thirty-hrst. Arms and ammu- nition were carefull\' inspected and put in order. Cartridge-boxes were filled, if lacking, and sixty extra rotmds per man were issued to be carried on the person. Hospitals were established with all the accessories and appliances for the ghastly work before them. Haversacks and canteens were replenished in readiness for the morrow. During these hours of preparation and anxious waiting, the men who were to meet the shock of battle for the first time were not in their wonted mood. There was an absence of the laugh and jest and song thatalwaysenlivened the camp and the march. I do not admit that, as the boys used to exjjress it, our "sand " was slipping away. We were not afraid of anything in particu- lar, but for some reason hilarity seemed out of place. It is de- clared upon Scripture authority that there is a time to laugh and a time to dance, but that time w^as not then. At night we lay upon the ground, with only our blankets be- tween us and the sky. I was then just out of my "teens,"' and I did not deem it "prejudicial to good order and military disci- pline," or inconsistent with my duty as a soldier, if I thought a good deal about home and mother and sister, as I lay there look- ing up at the twinkling stars. I wondered if I would be killed the next day; and then I thought of all the naughty things that I had done when a boy, and jiromised that if I got through the battle I would thereafter lead a model life. Many times during that long, long night, I wondered if I would "weaken " in the face of danger and death. Would m\' courage be equal to the de- mand upon it ? I wanted to be as brave as anyboch\ I had no intention of being otherwise, but when in the awful conflict would I be able to keep my toes turned the right way? Of course I fuDv decided that I would rather be killed a thousand times than be branded a coward; and yet I remember, as though it were but yesternight, how my heart thumped against my blouse as these thoughts, and many more, went wildly rushing through my mind. Two hours before dawn company officers passed along the lines and in w^hispered tones aroused the men to stand at arms till daylight. The air was keen and frosty, and all were chilled to the very marrow. A hasty breakfast, without coffee, and the movement began, in accordance with the plan ot battle. A strong force, of which Wood's division was a part, was ordered to cross the river, near the scene of our recent night exploit, and assail 250 CAMF AND FIELD. the Confederate right. I am not attempting to write a historical sketch of the battle, and have to do only with our own little part in it. Our attack, from the left of Rosecrans' line, was to be the initiative, supported at the proper time by an advance of the centre (Thomas) and right (McCook). The leading brigade of Wood was already in the stream, and ours was upon the brink ready to follow, when from the extreme right, two miles away, came the appalling roar of battle. Bragg had also decided to attack that morning, and his plan was the exact counterpart of his antagonist's. Massing a mighty force upon his left, he had hurled it with the utmost impetuosity against McCook. Rose- crans had not expected this, and he found it necessary immedi- ately to change his plans. Wood's division was recalled, and for a time lay upon the bank awaiting orders. Nearer and nearer came the awful roar of the conflict, as the wave swept along the line, enveloping one brigade and division after another. With bated breath and straining eyes and ears, with every nerve and fibre at its utmost tension, we lay there waiting for the summons that would tell us to face the deadly blast. Is it any wonder that cheeks blanched, hands trembled, and lips quivered? Let no one call it cowardly until he has him- self gone, without shrinking, through the fearful ordeal. A life- time brings no more crucial test than that of the moments just before going into battle. Now a staif officer dashes up to Colonel Harker and delivers an order. The colonel springs into the saddle. " Attention, battalion!" How his keen eye flashes as with clear and steady voice he gives command ! There is little need for the call to attention, for already every man is in line with the colors, and has taken the magic touch of elbow^s that is like a talisman to the soldier. ' ' Forward ! Double-quick ! March ! ' ' Ah! the need is urgent, and away we speed, to reinforce the riglit, which is crumbling beneath the blow it has received. . Just as we start a rebel gunner on the hill across the river, half a mile distant, sights his piece, and a shell comes shrieking through the air. The aim is all too perfect, for the missile strikes Com- pany B of the Sixt\^-fifth Ohio, and at the same instant explodes with a terrific sound. The rough fragments fly about doing their cruel work. Two men are killed and four or five others lie man- gled and bleeding upon the reddening ground. Little wonder that for a moment their comrades shudder and stand aghast at this first realization of the barbarity of war! "Stead}', men ! Close up!" CAMP AND FIELD. 251 It is but for an instant. The ranks are closed and the column move on. No time now to care for the wounded or speak a word to the dying. There are non-combatants whose duty it is to do this; soldiers must press on w'here duty calls. A brave man of Company B has a brother sorely wounded, one of the victims of that fatal shell. He casts one agonizing look of affection, hesi- tates, bends over the sufferer with words of tenderness, and then hurries away to his place in the company. On and on we go, across the Nashville turnpike and into a field where there is a wilder scene of chaos and demoralization than the mind can conceive. Picking our way through the confused and struggling mass, still at double-quick, panting and breathless, we push on, rapidly nearing the line where there is fierce fighting. A bullet, well spent by its long flight, with a droning buzz drops at our feet. Now there comes another and another, and as we enter a wood they fly thick and fast, and they have an uglier hiss. Possibly we try to dodge them at first; if we do it is because we cannot help it. Now we have changed from the column formation and are advancing swaftly in line of battle. ' ' Steady ! Guide centre ! ' ' There is no flinching. The rosy hue of cheek and lip has not returned, but paleness is not aKvays a S3'mptom of craven fear. Death is all around. To show no feeling would be less than human. Quickly we relieve a fragment of a regiment which has ex- hausted its ammunition. "Fire at will!" is the command, and we are in fast and furious. In the wnld intensity of excitement fear is forgotten. So intent is every sense of our being that we take no note of the flight of time. Scarcely five minutes, it seems, but it is probably an hour that we hold the position. Then there is a giving way on right and left, and we too, doubly enfiladed, are forced to retire. The rebels come on with loud, triumphant yells. Soon we come upon a blue-coated line that has been formed for our support. We pass over the Fifty-first Illinois which, with other regiments, is lying upon the ground with fixed bayonets. As we clear the line the men spring to their feet, deliver a volley and charge with a mightv shout. The enemy is driven back to his old position and ourfightingisoverforthedav. The ranks of the Sixty-fifth are sadly thinned. Ver}^ nearly half its men are killed or wounded. Three-quarters of Company B have been stricken down. Of all the officers of the regiment, field, staff and line, but five are untouched. Three of them are dead and nine w^ounded. We have longed to see a battle. We are more than satisfied. Cahawba • Prison, ALABANIA. A LONG EXPERIENCE OF CRUELTY AND HARDSHIP. One Thousand Nine Hundred and Sixty Hungrry, Ragged Skeletons Plung-ed into Hot Water, Steam, and Fire. H. C. ALDRICH. fWAS captured at Athens, Ala., on the 24th of September, 1864, by Forrest's cavalry, who robbed us of our blankets, watches, etc., and then took us to Cahawba, on the Ala- bama river, near the center of the state. There they searched us again, and confined us in a brick building 200x300 feet, with a roof over a part of it, the center being left open. I shall never forget the first glimpse I caught of the inmates as we marched in. The poor fellows had been there six months; they had cut their hair as close as possible in order to keep off the vermin, and some of them had nothing on but a pair of drawers — and were nearly all as black as a colored person. I asked one of them what had become of his clothes and he said he had sold them to the guard for something to eat. One of our company, finding his brother there, took the blouse from his own back and gave it to him. Soon after we got there we drew a skillet for every squad of ten men, and this was the only dish of any kind that they let us have. We had to make wooden spoons and sharpened sticks with which to eat our food. We had a small yard outside of the wall for a cook yard, and you can imagine what a place that was when we got one hundred and eighty fires or smudges started. The smoke was too thick to breathe, and one could not stay there long enough to bake his pone, but had to be relieved by some of the squad that remained inside of the walls. There was a dead-line around, inside of the wall, where the guards marched up and down, and we knew that CAMP AND FIKLD. 253 death would be our portion if we got across it. Being a sergeant I drew the rations for our squad and I knew just what we had. We got for rations, a pint of unsifted meal to a man per day. Sometimes, however, we would go two days without any, and every second or third day we had one forward quarter of beef (with the leg and shoulder taken off) for one hundred men. I drew my tenth of that for my squad. Once in ten or twelve days we drew a little salt (a spoonful and a half to a man). We drew some lard two or three times while I was there, enough to grease one or two pones. We had to spread it on with a stick. Once I had salt enough left to sprinkle on top of the lard. The rest of the time it was rather fresh eating. When Ave had meat we put it into the skillet, cooked it a little, and then stirred our meal into what we called fresh mush. We would sit on the ground around the skillet and each one take a spoonful when it came his turn until it was all gone. It did not last long. We got some pumpkins twice. I got four small ones once for our squad. They were quite sweet, and some of the boys ate theirs raw, while others boiled them with meat. These were all the rations we had for the six months I was there. When any of the prisoners got too noisy they were punished. There was a ladder standing against the outside of the prison, and when they took a prisoner out for punishment they made him go up on the under side of the ladder, put his toes on the third or fourth round, and reach up as high as he could with his hands and hang there twenty minutes. The guards were ordered, in case the Yank fell before that time, to run a bayonet through him. I have seen the boys so lame the next day that they could hardly walk. I shall long remember the looks of the sandy headed boy who stood guard at the door that we passed through to go into the cook yard. One of our men had been out into the cook yard with a little cup or pail he hap- pened to have, and which had a wire bail. He took a little stick about a foot long to hang it on while cooking his mush over the fire, and after the mush was cooked he started into the prison, out of the smoke, to eat it. As he did so the guard halted him, and said, ^' You can't go in here with wood." The man halted, and looked around, but not knowing that the guard referred to the little stick in question, started on, where- upon the guard struck him in the back with the bayonet and ran it through his body. He fell to the ground and soon 254 CAM? AND FIELD. breathed his last. The guard did not come back the next morning to his post, and we learned that they had given him a furlough for doing his duty and killing a Yank. Colonel Jones had command of the prison. One night, there came a heavy rain, and all the prisoners at the lower side of the prison had to get up and stand the remainder of the night. We were forced to sleep on the ground without blankets or anything to keep us out of the mud and wet. One day the colonel went through the prison and I saluted him and asked if he would let us have some straw to keep us out of the mud. He replied that he would send some the next day, and all the boys hurrahed in anticipation of the treat. The promise was never fulfilled. No farmer would put his hogs in such a pen as we were confined in. Many a time the tears ran down our cheeks on account of the cruel and unmerciful treatment which we received of our captors. On one occasion we had to stand nearly three days in the water during a freshet, but we were benefited by it in two ways; it drowned the rats out of their holes in the walls so that we got a few to eat, and it drowned out the graybacks. Some of the rebs got up a petition to let us out on an island that was near there. They got over sixty to sign it, and handed it to Colonel Jones, but he declared that the Yanks should stay in there until they were carried out to be buried, and that was not long for some of them. I have seen ten in one morning laid out on the sill we cut our meat on. The rebs would come in with the stretchers and four or five of our boys would help them carry our dead comrades out and bury them. After waiting long for an exchange, the spring of 1865 brought us our long delayed relief. But of the many who started on the homeward journey, few lived to tell the story. Fourteen hundred of those who survived the horrors were drowned by the explosion and burning of the steamer Sultana on the Mississippi river. Fortunately, I was one of the saved that night, but I shall never forget the horrors of the scene. I can still hear the pitiful cries of the victims for help. Imagine such a calamity if you can — 1,900 poor, hungry, ragged skeletons roused from their sleep at two o'clock in the morning by the explosion of the boilers, and plunged in hot water, steam, and fire! I was in the water six hours and picked up for dead, but recovered and am yet alive. ASSAULT ON FORT WAGNER. Famous Charge of the 54th Mass. (Colored). JULY, 1863. Capt. L. R. ElVrilvIO. ATTERY Wagner" ^^/j^ was of bold profile, ^x(cy:> and stretched from the sea to Vincent's creek, six hundred and thirty feet, its front, except thirty-three yards, covered by an easterly bend of that creek and its marshes, but a short distance south of the work. It was of irregular form, consisting of two salients at either extremity of the south- ern or land face, connected by a curtain, with a sea-face in rear of the southeast salient. Only an infantry parapet closed its rear or northerly face. Along its front was a deep moat with sluice gates. Its armament was three guns bear- ing on the sea, ten guns and one mortar bearing on the land, and some field-pieces. Upon that memorable 18th of July, 18G3, at 10 a. m., the first gun was fired from our mortar batteries, and soon the cannonade was general. The navy joined action at 12.30 p. M., and threw in a stream of shells. Sumter, Wagner, and Gregg replied with vigor the whole afternoon. Great clouds of smoke hung over the iron- clads, batteries, earthwork,, and Sumter's massive walls. Shells and solid shot crossed each other's course; and the air was rent with countless ex- plosions. By sunset the earth- work seemed to be beaten out of shape. Every shell that struck sent a column of sand high in air; great furrows^ scarred the slopes, while ava- lanches of sand were driven into the battery, burying the men, or obstructed the en^ trances, and half filled the ditch. It was the general opin- ion that every gun in the work had been silenced; that the garrison had been driven from their shelters and that any sup- porting force had been driven away. They were mistaken. 256 CAMP AND FIELD. The garrison, consisting of 1,700 men — South Carolinians, North Carolinians, and Georgians — under Brigadier-General Talliafero, still clung to the work, and despite the terrible fire had had but four men killed and fourteen wounded. The after- noon passed with ebb and flow of thundering cannon. At the summons of General Gillmore his principal officers gathered for a momentous conference, and it resulted in the determination that Wagner should be assaulted that night. General Truman Seymour was to command the assaulting column. Seymour or- ganized his force as follows: Strong's brigade of the 6th Conn., 48th N. Y., 3d N. H., 9th Me., and 7Cth Penn. was to storm the earthwork; Putnam's brigade of the 7th N. H., 100th N. Y., 62d and 67th Ohio was the support. Brig. -Gen. Thomas G. Steven- son's brigade of the 24th Mass., 10th Conn., 97th Penn., and 2d S. C. (colored) was the reserve. Our batteries were managed by regular and volunteer artillerymen, and the 7th Conn, battalion. At 6 p. m. a single regiment marched toward the front, along the road, which ran to the west of the sand-hills. Over the line fluttered the national flag, and nestling and caressing its folds was the great white banner of the Common- wealth of Massachusetts. While passing over the low ground to the left of our artillery line the long blue column drew from James Island several ineffective shots. The only response of the 54th Mass. (colored) was to double-quick, that it might the sooner close with the foe. On every side the killed and wounded were falling; still the survivors pressed on, stumbling over the pros- trate forms of comrades, or into the pits made by the great shells of our navy and batteries. Darkness had gathered, and the gloom was more intense from the momentary gleams of can- non explosions or the flashes of musketry. It was in rush- ing over the short distance separating them from the work and through the fierce line of fire from the light guns outside and the flanking pieces in the salients that probably the greatest loss was sustained. Every cannon flash lit up the scene and disclosed the ground strewn with victims. Over the sanguinary field, the indomitable Shaw had led the stormers; then down into and through the ditch, and up the parapet of the curtain. There he stood a moment shouting to his followers, and then fell dead. Both of the regimental colors were planted on the work, the national fiag carried and maintained there by the brave Sergt. William H. Carney of Co. C. e^wMP AND FIEI.R, 257 As the 54tli mounted the parapet, they were met with deter- mination by the brave garrison, and for a few moments a hand- to-hand struggle went on. Such contests, however, are not long protracted, and the result always favors the stronger fprce, if equal bravery is exhibited. The weakened ranks of the 54th soon gave way to superior numbers, and they fell back upon the slopes of the work. Hardly a shot had been fired by the 54th up to this time; but now were heard revolvers, and the louder reports of musket shots. It w^as seen that the garrison was stronger than had been supposed, that the supports had failed to take advantage of the fierce attack, and that the heroic attempt to take the work at the first rush had failed. Still, by encouraging the men to remain, it was hoped help would be afforded the other troops as they came up. While engaged in tliis, many brave men fell. Capts. Cabot J. Rus- sell and William H. Simpkins were killed, and Capt. George Pope wounded severely in the shoulder. The enemy supple- mented their musketry with hand-grenades or shells, which they threw down the slopes into the mass of men in the ditch below. All of these events occurred in a brief period of time. The 54th had been repulsed before the arrival of Strong's brigade. Those clinging to the bloody slopes and lying in the ditch with the dead and wounded, hearing fighting going on to their right, began to think of preserving their lives. Some crept through the ditch and entered the salient, taking part in the close fighting there. Among them were three officers of the 54th, — Captains Appleton and Jones, and Lieutenant Emerson, the two former being wounded. Others made their way singly, or in squads, to the sand-hills in the rear. INDIVIDUAL DEEDS OF HEROISM. Owing to darkness, individual deeds performed that terrible night are but little known. Sergeants Simmons of Co. B and Carney of Co. C, Corporal Peal of Co. F, and Private Wilson of Co. A, were mentioned in the report of the action as worthy of especial merit, and subsequently all received the Gillmore medal. Sergeant Simmons was wounded and captured; after suffering amputation of the arm in Charleston, he died there. Sergeant Carney and Private Wilson were wounded. The color-guard was almost annihilated, ajid the losses among 258 C.XMr \NU lu-i.r non-oommissionod oHicors woro vorv civat. l.iout. (."trin K. Smith was scvoroly wounded, ami ivmainod on iho tiold until I ho noxt day. Lieut. J. A. Pratt was also wouiulod. Init orawU^l from tho fort during- the night, lying Oimooalod in the marsh until rescued two days after, covered with mud and his own hlood. To retire was as deadly and daugerous a task as to advanee. Some of the regiment heUi positions in 1 lie sand-hills, until or- dereii to retire hy General Strong. Row Sergeant Carney kept the stars and stripes trying on the work until all hope of sueeess was gone, and then hrought kis flag away safely at the eost of grievous wounds, has heen the snhject of song and story. The writer went into the assault as the junior captain oi" the 54th. and hy the casualties of the tield can\e out in con\mand of the regiment. Finding a line of hreastworks entirely unoccu- pied, and helieving that the enemy would attempt a sortie, dis- positions were made to hold the line. (.Hher men were collected as they came in. and Lieut. R. H. L. Jewett and Charles E. Tucker of the 54th. hoth slightly wounded, also came to that point. That line was held until 1 a. m. of the 10th. when the lOth Conn, wa^ sent to relieve us. When Strong's hrigade ad- vanced, it was Uni by the t>th Conn. That regiment attacked the southeast salient, defended by the olst N. C. but they en- tered, supported by the 4Sth X. Y. The ;>d N. H. did not ad- vance beyond the mai'sh of Vincent's creek, and Strong's other regiments, the Oth ^le. and the "6th Penn.. did not gain a foot- hold on the work, so far as is known to the writer. General Strong advanced with his men. and exhibited the utn\ost bravery. General Seymour, perceiving the failure of his leading brig- v'uie. ordei-^d Colonel Putnam to advance his regiments, and (hat officer led a portion of his :th N. H. into the salient, fol- lowed by the G'Ai and 6rth Ohio. His liXnh X. Y. advanced near to the works, but in the confusion and darkness poured a volley into our own men in the salient, and then retired. All these regiments suffered severe losses. Fighting was continually going on over the inner parapet, and about the gun chambers. There we lost many of the bravest officers and men. among them Colonel Putnam and Lieutenant -C^olonel Green, of the 4Sth X. Y., who were both killed. Attempts to expel our men were successfully resisted for some time, and the position CAMP AND FIELD. 259 gallantly hoM in tlio lioj^o tliat support would come and win the victory which almost lay within their grasp. It was not to be, and at last Maj. Lewis Butler of the 67th Ohio, the ranking officer, sent the regimental colors out, and gave orders to retire. General Stevenson's hrigade advanced toward the work, but it was then too late, and his men were withdrawn. The Confederates lost 174 killed and wounded. The Federal loss was 1,517, which included over 100 officers, and embraced General Seymour, wounded; General Strong, mortally wounded; and Colonel Putnam, killed; of the ten regimental command- ers. Colonel Shaw was killed; Col. J. L. Chatfield of the Gth Conn., mortally and five others severely wounded. Such casu- alties stamp the sanguinary character of the fighting, and mark tlie assault as one of the fiercest struggles of the war, considering the numbers engaged. The o4th Mass. suffered more severely than any other regi- ment. Col. R. G. Shaw, Capt. William H. Simpkins, and Capt. Cabot J. Russell killed; and Lieut.-Col. E. N. Hallowell, Cap- tains Appleton, Jones, Pope, Willard, Adjutant James, Lieu- tenants Smith, Homans, Jewett, Tucker, and Pratt, wounded. Of enlisted men, the report gives 20 killed, 102 missing, and 125 wounded. Of the missing, some sixty men (about twenty of whom were wounded) were captured, and the remaining forty-two of those reported missing were prol>ably killed. Those captured were held in the hands of the enemy in Charles- ton jail and other prison-pens until the spring of 18G5, wheu the few survivors were released. ■^-^ THREE TIMES. FIRST f;UN AT SHILOH. npIIE 1st N. Y. Cavalry claim to have mUE first f,nin of the battle of Shhoh l)eeii the first to enter the war, the was probably fired by Robinson's first to lose a man, and the first to (rebel) battery, of Gladden's Brigade lose an officer. of Hardee's Corps. ISriTH CUSTER, At * Yellow * TaYern * and * Id * the * Raid » Around ^^ Richmond. L. E. TRIPP, ist Sergeant 5th Michigan. ■'3\T Todd's Tavern General Custer led his brigade with drawn sabers, driving the rebel line and taking their position, A battery in our right front, behind a knoll and near the woods, made terrible havoc Avith our horses. General Custer ordered our regiment (the 5th Mich. Cavalry) to the right, into the woods, where we dismounted and charged the battery. They succeeded in drawing the guns away, but left twenty-one dead and wounded; among them, I think, the captain of the bat- tery. After two days we started towards the rear wondering "What next?" Along in the afternoon we were cautioned against loud talking, and our coffee-pots had to be adjusted sa that they would not rattle. About this time we were passing around in rear of Lee's army, when, between sundown and dark, we struck Beaver Dam Station, gobbling up, among the rest, about four hundred of our men who had been taken prisoners. Yes, they were a happy lot of men and were glad to see the cavalry. They went to work and armed themselves from the captured arms that had been sent back there, ana took up the line of march towards Richmond with us. Just what regiment or brigade opened the fight at Yellow Tavern I do not know, our brigade being in the rear of the column. I well recollect the column being halted and our standing in the road, while some fighting was going on in front, and that some shells came over our heads rather too close for comfort. Finally our brigade was ordered to the front, where we found a large CAMP AND FIELD. ' 261 field with a rail fence running east and west through the mid- dle, with woods mostly on three sides. We supposed that some of our troops had been driven out of this field. We found several of Sharpe's carbine cartridges lying on fence rails and concluded they were left there when our men fell back. Our regiment and the 0th Mich, were moved down on the north side of the field in the woods, where we were formed and dis- mounted for a charge across the field. I well remember that when we were about to leap the fence into the field (for w^e were under fire at the time) the colonel said: " Now, boys, keep a good line, for General Sheridan is watching us." (General Sheridan and quite a body of troops were on an elevation to our right, overlooking the field.) I well remember that my tent-mate and friend (Daniel F. Miller) remarked: "Now, Tripp, let's keep together." We had not advanced over twenty rods, I think, before a murderous cross-fire was opened upon us out of the woods on our left and rear. Words cannot picture the scene that followed out there in that level field, without any chance of cover. We were trying to return the fire, shoot- ing in three different directions. Poor Miller received his death wound while on one knee shooting in the direction that the left of our line had come from. Gur brave and noble Custer rode up on his horse into that field among us — always cool — with the words: "Lie down, men — lie down. We'll fix them! I have sent two regiments around on the flank." His words of cheer and sympathy to the wounded were deeply appreciated. All of this was of short duration, but it seemed like an age then. Right there in that field I think General Custer decided on tak- ing that battery. Custer's brigade (the 1st, 5th, 6th, and 7th Mich. Cavalry) were now all engaged; but the 1st Vt. had for- merly belonged to our brigade, and to it Custer went for help. The story went at the time, that General Custer went over and told the 1st Vt, what he wanted, and it of course vol- unteered to go, but the commanding general objected to have General Custer fighting his troops and then Custer appealed to General Sheridan, who told him to take any regiment that was willing to go with him. The 1st Vt, went, and there was an advance all along the line. The battery was taken. General Stuart received a death wound while endeavoring to rally his men. Although on the next day a part of our forces were among the defenses of Richmond, (where we were once before 262 CAMP AND FIELD. on the Kilpatrick raid,) I don't think we were in force enough to capture Richmond. [Comrade R. says he could never con- ceive why we did not.] Now, I don't think I should have writ- ten this, but the comrade seems to have the impression that the first troops that crossed went over on the corduroy bridge. In the early part of the day Custer's brigade was ordered down toward the railroad bridge (which the rebels had not de- stroyed), our regiment in the advance. We met the regulars coming from there — some of them wounded. They said we would "find some work down there." This bridge was covered by the rebel battery and line of works spoken of. We dis- mounted and picked our way along under cover until we reached the stream and railroad bridge. Then came the tug of war, as the saying is. To get across the bridge, a few of us nearest the bridge resolved while the others kept up the fire (with the Spencers) to try and cross it. So, a few at a time, we crossed our whole regiment and worked off to the left, in the swamp, and were skirmishing there for hours while the corduroy bridge was being built. We had worked around on their flank so far that when the charge was made we could shoot lengthwise of their line of works. How they succeeded in getting that battery away I don't understand, but it was a race for dear life — they occasionally turning about and return- ing our fire. They had established a hospital at a house about a half mile in the rear of their works, showing that they must have had some wounded. We, of course, felt rejoiced when we had broken through the trap in which they boasted of hav- ing us. Their papers stated that the city officials were coming out to look us over: but we couldn't wait. I feel sad when I think of our brave comrades who laid down their lives in these engagements, and there were many who wore the gray equally brave, though in a mistaken cause. CAMP AND FIELD. 263 CHICK AMAUGA. [Written in commemoration of the de-perate cliarge of the 1st Ky. Brigade, by Db. J. M. Lydings, in Chattanooga Prison, 18C4.] ■'Jl mli^ADLY is flowing the red tide of 'Tis death without shrift to the das- Ij C battle, tardly foenian, ^^ Dark Chickamauga, thy sliad- And heaven have pity on sweetheart ows among, find w'ife. And true to thy legends,* with fierce i + v ^ . iiuc v^ J c On, on, like a wave that engulfs, do they roar and rattle, press The shadows of Death o'er thy bosom ^J^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^,^^ ^^^^.^^^ ^^^^ ^'■^^^"^S- dead; See, up yon hillside a dark line is sweep- Nor stop they till night— blessed night i,io- for the foe — Breasting the thick storm of grape- Her mantle of i)eace o'er the fallen shot and shell, hath spread. ShoutiiK'- like demons o'er abatis leap- ^, , ,,, . , i 4. i • u „ » The battle is o er ; but where is thy "'^' chief Sons of Kentucky, ye charge them ^, t. ' i r i ^^1 1 4^1 a . , ,, . The Bayard of battle, dauntless and rieht well ! ,0 ° brave i Up to the cannon's mouth, on to the There cold and uncofRned lies chival- rampart, rous Helm, Shoulder to shoulder they gallantly Where Glory's mailed hand hath press ; found him a grave. Steel into steel flashing fierce in the sun- wi.o..^ ° Where Hewitt and Daniel.'' Where -„ , . ^ ' ^ ,.,. 1 Ti • 4-, .,, trumpet-voiced Graves? Pulsing out hie-drops like wine from .,,.,, • ^.i *- ^ , , '' And where the brave men that they the press. n ., 1 j g gallantly led .'' Think they of far homes once sunny There voiceless forever and dreamless and bright, they lie Now blackened and dreary, swept by On the field they have won, immortal the flame — though dead. Fair sisters and sweethearts — God pity _ the s-fo-ht ! ^^°^' °"' Chickamauga, in silence flow Wandering outcasts, with heads "^'^ ,, , n ,, bowed in shame! Among the dun shadows that fall on thy breast ; Hark to the answer! That shout of These comrades in battle, aweary of defiance strife, Rings out like a knell above the fierce Have halted them here by thy waters strife, to rest. * Chickamauga means death, and its banks were said to be a favorite Indian battle-ground. BATTLE OF CHICKAMAUGA. AccoQDt of General Steedman's Gallantry on tbe Bloody Field, SEPTEMBER 20, 1863. J. W. DOVE, Captain Company G, I 15th Illinois V. I. jINCE the death of Gen. James B. Steedman, I have been a good deal interested in the various accounts published in regard to the general on the field of Chickamauga, the ever memorable 20th day of Septem- ber, 1863. Taking all the circumstances into consideration, I think it the bloodiest and hardest contested battle of the war, for the Union. General Steedman commanded a division of Granger's reserve corps of the Army of the Cumberland Gen. Walter C. Whitaker commanded a brigade of Steedman's di- vision, known as the Iron Brigade, of which he was very proud, as well he might be. It never turned its back to the enemy. It was composed of the 40th Ohio, 84th Ind.. It6th and 115th 111. I led Co. G of the 115th 111. into the fight that day, and led out what was left of it at night. Thirty-six of us went in on the right of Pap Thomas; we left nineteen killed and wounded on the field. Out of 368 men, as I remember, that went into the fight of the 115th 111., 172 were killed or wounded, Lieutenant-Colonel Kinsman being one. A braver soldier never faced an enemy. It has been said that the flag that General Steedman took was that of a regiment that was waver- ing, which I propose to dispute to the last ditch, and even after we get on the other side. It will be remembered that the re- serve corps, on the 18th of September, left its camps at Ross- ville, Ga., and moved out to what we understood to be the left of the army, not far from Ringgold, Ga., where it had a brush with the enemy. On the 19th we fought the rebs at McAffee CAMP AND FIELD. 265 Church. Early the morning of the 20th, not finding the enemy, we marched around to what we then understood to be the right-center of the line, passing just in rear of General Thomas's line of battle. We had to run the gantlet of quite a number of rebel batteries, which made it hot work, and we lost some of our boys. As we passed what I thought was the extreme right of Thomas's line, we filed out of an old field and halted just in the edge of a heavy piece of woods covering a high ridge. We had double-quicked for a long distance, and were pretty well blown. We were hardly given time to adjust our lines when I saw General Steedman riding towards us. He passed the left of the regiment and on to the center. The regiment was standing at parade rest in perfect line. We had not been in this position to exceed one minute, when the general came up and asked the color-sergeant for the regi- mental flag; he took the flag, shook out the folds in a dramatic manner; rode a few paces to the front (the color-bearer by his side) and lifting the flag high in air, rose high in his stirrups, and gave the command, ''Attention! Forward, double-quick, march!" and that in the loudest voice I ever heard before or since. At least, so it sounded to me and I think to others; for it appeared to lift the entire brigade bodily. It was one of the grandest dramatic effects that I ever witnessed, enough to make a hero of the most groveling coward. I did not comprehend, nor do I think any of us did at the time, the situation and circumstances that called out such an effort on the part of our gallant commander, but he did, and we were not long in finding out, for up the hill we went as one man, intent only to get there. Just as the line reached the crest of the hill, we comprehended, or could have done so, if there had been time to think, for we met the victorious legions of Longstreet coming up the hill on the other side. We met face to face, but no army could have stopped our advance after so grand a send off, and the enemy reeled, fell back, rallied again, and again was forced to retreat. The fighting here was terrific the remainder of the day. We held the ridge in spite of Longstreet's veterans till night closed in on the bloody scene. General Steedman's front was understood to be the key to the battle field, and. looking back over the scenes of that day and the heroic conduct of Steedman, I can see that he well under- stood the importance of his position, and no man could have 266 CAMP AND FIELD. filled it better than he did. No troops that ever lived did nobler work than his division that day. General Steedman exposed his life continually. He was just where most needed, and how he escaped with life the God of battles alone knows. After the sun had set, our regiment was deployed much as a skirmish line, the reason being that we were out of ammunition, and had been for some time using what could be gathered from the cartridge-boxes of the dead and wounded. The boys would find a box of cartridges, and then would hunt a gun of the same caliber as the cartridge. The 115th 111. was armed with the old Remington muskets (sixty-nine caliber), while most of the army were armed with fifty-eight cal- iber. The result was that we were fighting Indian fashion — without regard to tactics or alignment. At this juncture General Steedman rode up and ordered us forward to repel a rebel ad- vance. The cry went up, " We are out of ammunition! " but he dashed to the front, ordered us to fix bayonets and charge double-quick! Royally the boys obeyed that order. The bayo- nets were fixed quickly, and forward we went with characteristic hurrahs and cleared our front once more, which made it possi- ble for the army to make an orderly retreat to Rossville and Chattanooga that night. General Whitaker lost all but one of his staff that day, and was wounded himself. Col. J. H. Moore had his horse shot in three different places, yet that noble animal kept its feet and carried its rider back to Rossville before it died. Lieutenant-Colonel Kinsman was killed in the first onslaught of the regiment. His horse escaped to the enemy, but was recaptured at the battle of Missionary Ridge by our boys. The 23d Mich, served with Whitaker's brigade that day. The casualties among officers were unusually large — six killed and forty-six wounded. The brigade went into action 2,674 strong, and came out with 1,089, losing 985 in killed, wounded, and missing. Naval Contests. Life on the Monitor. A Seaman's Story of the Fight with the Merrimac. LIVELY EXPERIENCES INSIDE THE "FAMOUS CHEESE-BOX ON A RAFT." How THE Great Disaster off Cape Hatteras OccurreDi SAMUEL LEWIS (alias PETEK TEUSKITT). •ti '^ This man figured in the naval reports of the United States as Peter Truskitt, one of the heroic hand who stood in the turret of the Monitor when she drove the Merrimac out of Hampton Roads, and he is the sailor who ivas wounded by the concussion of a rebel shell just before the termination of the engagement. The name Truskitt ivas an cdias. OgIE sailors generally ^.-5^Z% ]V^ shipped under some ^^^^^Q%^^ other name on ac- count of danger of running foul of bad captains or bad ships, when we might have to decamp at the first port, and were not particular about leav- ing any clews behind. That was why I called myself Trus- kitt. I ain't much of a scholar, and can't put it as nicely as they do in the Century, but I think I can tell a few facts about the Merrimac fight that the mai^^a- zines missed. I and my part- ner, Joe Crown, were in Bom- bay when the war broke out. We had both served in the navy before, and were anxious to get into it again. I had medals for service on both British and Russian men-of- war, and the news that there was fighting over the water sort of fired men up. Well, the upshot of it was that Joe and I shipped for New York, and when we got there en- listed. We went on board the 268 CAMP AND FIELD, receiving ship North Carolina, and had followed the dull daily- routine for a week or so when Ericsson's Monitor, about which something had been whispered among the men, was completed, and a call was made for volunteers to go and man her. We understood that she was bound for Hampton Roads, and Joe and I concluded to go. So we stepped out, and were put with a lot of others on board the transport ship Knickerbocker and sent to Washington. The Monitor was then, I believe, lying in the Washington navy yard. "Next day we went on board. She was a little bit the strangest craft I had ever seen; nothing but a few inches of deck above water line, her big, round tower in the center, and the pilot house at the end. The monitors that were afterward built had the pilot house above the turret to prevent it being accidentally shot away by the vessel's own guns, but in that one it was a big bomb-proof structure, several feet in height, right above the deck. We had confidence in her, though, from the start, for the little ship looked S(3mehow like she meant busi- ness, and it didn't take us long to learn the ropes. Joe was made gunner's mate of the first gun and I was loader. The crew were exactly sixty strong, with the pilot. "We started at once for Fortress Monroe. From the first a good deal of trouble was experienced through leakage, but the story that it was difficult to keep the craft afloat is not true. Some water came in at the anchor well and some around where the turret joined the deck. The last we plugged up with swabs and got through all right, arriving near dusk. The situation at Hampton Roads was about this: The Minnesota was aground, the Cumberland sunk, and the Con- gress on fire. While we were there the Congress blew up — one of the grandest and most terrible sights I ever witnessed. Our first duty was to protect the Minnesota, and we steamed up along- side. The sailors were then taking out their hammocks and dunnage, and all preparations were in progress to abandon the ship. By the next morning this was done, and nobody was left on board. " Our first sight of the Merrimac was around the Rip-Raps. She had been described to us and there was no mistaking her long, slanting, rakish outlines. She evidently regarded the grounded vessel as her certain prey, and I don't think in fact that we were seen at first from on board. We were so small and had so CAMF AND FIKLD. 269 little above the water-line when we steamed out I guess she took us for some kind of a water tank. You can see surprise in a ship just the same as you can see it in a human being, and there was surprise all over the Merrimac. She fired a shot across us, but Captain Worden, our commander, said, 'Wait till you get close, boys, and then let her have it.' In a moment the ball had opened. Our guns were so low down that it was practically point-blank firing, and we made every shot as far as possible tell. ''At first the Merrimac directed her fire at the turret, and was evidently trying hard to put a shell in. That was impossible, however, for two reasons. The port-holes were protected by heavy iron pendulums, that fell of their own weight over the openings as soon as the muzzles of the guns were taken out, and when the guns were loaded they were put out at the far si4e, away from the Merrimac, and in that way there was no aperture for her to get a shot into. The din inside the turret was something terrific. The noise of every solid ball that hit fell upon our ears with a crash that deafened us. About that time an unexpected danger developed. The plates of the tur- ret were fastened on with iron bolts and screw-heads on the inside. These screw-heads began to fly off from the concussion of the shots. Several of the men were badly bruised by them, and had anybody been hit in the face or eyes they would have been done for. Luckily this did not take place, but that ex- perience caused them to build a metal sheath or plating over the screw-heads in monitors afterward. " The immense volume of smoke and narrow apertures to see through made maneuvering very difficult, and at times we nad hard work telling where the enemy was. Twice she tried to ram us, but w^e got out of the way. We looked for an attack by a boarding party, and had a supply of hand grenades to throw out of the turret if one succeeded in gaining the deck. Our men were confident and hopeful all through. Once Lieu- tenant Green called out, ' They are going to board us!' but in- stead of scaring anybody it seemed to please the crew. ' Let 'em come!' sings out one, 'we will amuse them some!' After the fight had been in progress for a couple of hours I was knocked senseless by a shot. " The gun had just been pulled in and the pendulum dropped when a ball struck it a few inches from the head. The shock 270 CAMP AND FIELD, was so fearful that I dropped over like a dead man, and the next thing I knew I was in the cabin with the doctor bathing my head. I soon recovered enough to go up again. Meantime the Merrimac had concentrated her fire upon the pilot-house, giving up the turret as a bad job, and I think made an effort or two to get close and board us. It was in the pilot-house that Captain Worden received the wound that blinded him for some time afterward, and Lieutenant Green took command. I do not think that a boarding party could have been successful, even had they reached the deck, because they couldn't have pene- trated the interior. There was but one hatch, and that had been closed and barred on the inside before the engage- ment. The tower was solid, and the only way to get below from it was to have the hatch in its floor on a line with the hatch in the deck. "The Merrimac turned tail after a little over four hours of fighting. The enthusiasm of our men was at fever heat. " ' Let's follow her,' said Joe Crown. '"You don't know what you're taking about,' says Lieuten- ant Green; ' we would strike a torpedo, sure.' " 'I guess we can go where she can,' answered Crown. "That was the feeling of all the men. They were disap- Dointed because they were not allowed to give chase, for they noticed that the Merrimac rode low in tlie water, and knew that she had been hit below the line and was filling. "That was the close of the fight. Next day we were the heroes of the hour. The presidential party came down with a lot of ladies, and they cheered and toasted us to the echo. The troops about the fortress all felt so proud over the victory that they started a contribution of $1 each for the crew of the Moni- tor. The sum they raised was sent to Washington, but for some reason Congress objected and it was never distributed. That made both the crew who manned the Monitor and the soldiers who contributed the fund very bitter, and they remem- ber it to this day, "That was not the end of my experience with the Monitor by any means. I staid right with her and never left her until she was lost off Hatteras. After the fall of Norfolk we were ordered to Wilmington, N. C. The steamer Rhode Island had us in tow, cind I don't believe the true story of the disaster that terminated the trip has ever found its way into print. The Monitor was CAMP AND FIELD. 271 not a seagoing craft. She was adapted to smooth water, but her model was not calculated to withstand a storm. Off Hat- teras we encountered heavy weather. The waves ran very high, and the ship took so much water that it was only with extreme difficulty that she could be kept afloat. Finally the hawser either parted or was cut — I don't think that point has ever been entirely settled — and realizing that we were sinking we sent up a rocket of distress. I afterward learned that all was excite- ment on board the Rhode Island, and the usual delay in lower- ing the boats was prolonged. Every minute was that much nearer certain death to us, and when our signals were not re- sponded to, the word was passed among the men that it was the intention to abandon us to our fate. This made them des- perate, and the sailors insisted that we fire upon the vessel. Before they could do so, however, we saw the boats coming, but by that time the Monitor was so near gone and the sea so high that sixteen were lost before they could be taken in. I was on the companion ladder, just behind my messmate, Jack O'Brien, and we were both dodging the third waves, which are always the biggest. One had just passed, when he sprang for the boat, and missed it. I heard him shriek, 'Oh, God!' and then he was swept away forever. I caught the boat upon th? gunwale, and managed to pull myself in, but it was a close call. The ship doctor, who sat in the stern, had the end of his hand jammed off by striking it against the pilot-house plates. As we pulled away I saw in the darkness some black forms - knew to be men clinging to the top of the turret. They were drowned, poor fellows, when a moment later the Monitor gave one last pitch and went down like a shot. The boats reached the Rhode Island all right, and there we got food and clothes, for the fire had been out and we had had nothing to eat for a day. That was my experience with the Monitor — beginning with a battle and ending with a shipwreck." An Incident of Peaoh Tree Greet jN the twentieth of July, 1864, was fought the battle of Peach Tree Creek. It was one of the fierce engage- ments brought on when Sherman closed in upon Atlanta. Newton's division of the Fourth corps re- ceived a desperate assault of the enemy. It lay behind a barri- cade of logs and rails, and was able to withstand the shock. The enemy was repulsed with severe loss, and fell back into the woods. Immediately, details of Union soldiers were sent out to bring in the rebel wounded, who lay thickly upon the. field. A wounded boy is no longer an enemy. Among those brought in \v^as a boy not above sixteen, belong- ing to a Georgia regiment. A bullet had crashed through his thigh. Pale and suffering, he was laid in the shade of a treeupo.i a blanket. It was some little time before a surgeon could be found, but meanwhile we gave him water from our canteens and food from our haversacks. Evidently he had not expected kind treatment at the hands of "Yankees." "They told us," he said, "that you would kill us if you took us prisoners," and tears trickled down his cheeks as he looked into our faces. A surgeon came and examined his wound. " Is it bad, doctor ? " asked the sufferer. "I hope not, my boy," was the answer, but it was plam that the surgeon knew there'was little hope. The bul- let had crushed the thigh bone, and there was small chance for him. "If mother could only be here," he said, in a sad, feeble tone, and the tears flowed afresh, while our own eyes moistened in sympathy. Faint from loss of blood, he sank into unconsciousness. He was revived by stimulants, and again he spoke of "Mother" in an agonizing way that touched the very heartstringj? of those who stood around him. We did what'we could— little enough at best— to minister to his comfort. Then the bugles sounded and we marched away. We never heard of the poor boy again. It is more than likely that his young life went out in a few hours, per- haps a day or two, and that he was buried in an imknown grave, as were thousands upon thousands of others during that long and bloody conflict. "War is cruelt3% and you cannot refine it," General Sherman said in his letter to the mavor of Atlanta. re:minisce:nce:s of FRANK E. AIORAN, CAPTAIN 73ki) NEW YORK. «o|os5il BELIEVE it is true that every soldier who served through the war for the Union has had an experienee that essenti- 10) ally differs from that of the nearest comrade of his com- ?b*ej pany, and constitutes an independent and interesting history by itself. It is to this diversity of experience, as well as the varied light in which events are observed and described, that war history owes its most attractive charm; as the vari-colored warpin the loom unites in graceful figures and flowers, imparting strength as well as beauty to the finished fabric. The cluster of reminiscences which I purpose to narrate con- trast so sharply with each other that their grouping seems incongruous, and renders it perplexing to choose for them an apt and covering title. All, how^ever, can be fairly catalogued as curious, all are true, and none, I feel assured, will fail to kindle and hold the in- terest of the reader. The breaking out of the Rebellion found me, a smooth-faced and somewhat delicate stripling, at the age of 17, residing in the city of New Orleans, whither I had drifted in a boy's whimsical but ever-hopeful search of a fortune, in 1860. It was my unhappy lot to be caught one night in April, 1861, in a frenzied crowd of howling men in the rotunda or large bar- room of the St. Charles Hotel, where I had gone for my employer to deliver an important verbal message to a gentleman from Mississippi, a guest at the house, but who was absent when I called. On one side of this room, which was level with St. 274 CAMP AND FIELD Charles street, to which a wide hallway led, was an elevated platform, from which on that afternoon I had seen a number of slaves sold, among them a remarkably handsome mulatto girl, whose age I judged to be about my own. Although it was not the first time I had witnesssd a slave sale from the same platform, it was, I believe, the first instance in which the iniquitous institution of human slavery was so impres- sively presented to my understanding in all its suggestive and repelling features, for heretofore the sales I had seen were gener- ally confined to males and sturdy and stoic fieldhands ; and as I looked upon the neatly attired and graceful girl.in whoselustrous eyes a discerning observer might see the muteconsciousnessof her wrongs and a solemn accusation against her oppressors, and as I faced the gaping bystanders and complaisant bidders and hstened to the coarse jests and profanity of rum-scented ruffians wearing broad-brimmed hats surmounting mattresses of hair that had seemingly long been neglected alike by scissors and comb, I felt that I could not endure to witness the consummation of the iniquity, and turned from the crowd with a bitter curse upon the baneful "institution," which, had it been audible, would have probably secured me a prompt suspension by the neck to a con- venient lamp-post, or a costume of tar with the regulation feather einbroidery. On the evening of that day I again went to the St. Charles on the same errand, and recognizing the gentleman of whom I was in search, engaged in a game of billiards with a friend, I took a seat near the table to await an opportunity to deliver to him my message. Seated beside me on the right was a well-dressed, elderly and strikingly-handsome man, whom I now remembered having seen at the slave sale a few hours earlier. He showed that the recogni- tion was mutual by a pleasant smile, and responded to the bow I felt impelled to give him, by a graceful incHnation of the head. , There was a genuine air of good breeding, grace and dignity about the man that instantly and strongly attracted me, and I certainly would have yielded to my inclination to address him in the respectful freedom which his years and kindly manner seemed to encourage, and my own youth appeared to warrant, had I not found him engaged at that moment in making an entry in what I took to be a diary or small account-book. Suddenly, there was a great noise from without, and I stepped into the hallway just in time to be swept bodily into the bar- room bv a yelling mob that poured in from St. Charles street. CAMP AND FIELD. 275 The occasion of the excitement was soon disclosed. A man mounted the platform from which a few hours before I had seen the slave girl face her pitiless audience, and in a stentorian voice, of which he was manifestly proud, read a telegram from Charles- ton announcing that Beauregard's guns had opened fire on Sumter. My whole heart was in the North and for the Union, and the exultant shouts of the boasting and half-drunken bullies that jostled me helplessly about as 1 struggled to reach the street door, set every drop of blood boiling in my veins, and I felt every un- avoidable touch as an aggravated personal affront. In that hour — nay, in that very moment — I resolved to leave the South and enlist as a Union soldier. I burned to carry this design into immediate excution, but an honorable engagement with a kind employer induced me, on cooler reflection, to defer my departure until June. The crowd was now increasing at each minute, and the sound of flying corks and breaking glasses mingled with the pandemo- nium, while half-a-dozen drunken orators were on platform and chairs tearing the North into metaphorical "smithereens." I made a temporary escape from the jam bv being forced back into the billiard-room, which wasnow deserted. Cues, balls, hats and coats were strewn on the tables. Indeed, the only person I saw in the room with me now was the gentleman I had left writing. He had evidently not left the room during the excite- ment, but of course had been appraised of its cause. As I entered, he rose, and replacing his pencil and book in his pocket, he walked briskly by me, bowing as he passed, and disappeared in the street throughthecrowd, that had now been reinforced by a band, that set the mob screaming afresh with the then new and idolized "Dixie." As I felt that I could no longer endure the sight and sound of the rebel carousal, I determined to escape, and started again toward the street. As I was leaving the room, I noticed a small leaf of paper lying near the chair just vacated by the gentleman who had been wanting, and thinking it might be memoranda of importance, which I might 3'et restore to its owner, I picked it up, and, penciled in a clear, neat hand, read these words: "I witnessed to-day the sale of the mulatto girl Lucy, to a man from Mississippi, for $1,500. " What a spectacle of shame in a free Republic. Heaven helpand deliver her. A telegram just read confirms to-day's ominous rumors. The first gun has been fired on our fiag by the traitors 276 CAMP AND FIELD. in Charleston harbor. That gun is the sentence of Secession — - and God grant of slaver^', too — in this country. Now for home.'* My friend then was a Union man. I can scarcely sav the dis- covery surprised me, surprising as it was to find one in New Orleans just then, but the assurance gave me a glow of pleasure, and my heart warmed to him, so when I reached the street I made an eager search in the crowd, but he had vanished like a spirit. I concealed the memoranda, fully conscious of its compromising character in the then fierce temper of the community toward ])ersons holding the sentiments expressed in the stranger's hand- writing. I kept it in the lining of my hat, and on many succeed- ing days went to the St. Charles and eagerly scanned the faces I met in the crowd, hoping to find my li^nion friend, whose confi- dence and friendship I felt I could now fairly claim bv returning the talisman I possessed. My eagerness to do so may excite the surprise of most persons in these peaceful days, but mv feelings and conduct will be perfectly intelligible to those of Union senti- ments who found themselves as comparative strangers caught in the whirlwind of Secession that swept the South in the Winter and Spring of '61. Lincoln's election was no sooner announced than the National flag disappeared from public sight, and outrages shameful and lawless were perpetrated not only unchecked, but with popular applause upon those who were known Unionists. The branch store of Singer's Sewing Machine Company was completely gutted, the furniture and property flung into the street, the sign torn down and the windows smashed, all be- cause a press dispatch one day announced that the emplovees of I. M. Singer & Co., New York, had presented a National flag to the Seventh Regiment, that famous command, the darling of the Gothamites, having signaled its patriotism by a prompt tender of its service to the Government immediately after the firing on Sumter. This outrage, a mild type of many others daily occurring in every Southern city, was committed on Canal street, the chief thorough- fare and promenade, and but a few steps from where the statue of Henry Clay looks toward the Mississippi. No attempt whatever was made to investigate, much less to punish villainies of the kind, and this one is only cited to show the malevolence of the Secessionists toward the North at the time, and will rationallv account for the easrerness of the lover of the Union to seek communion with kindred spirits. CAMP AND FIELD. 277 But I failed to find the friend I sought, and at last destroyed the scrap, which indeed I would have gladly perserved, but have cherished the niemor}' of a Union man whose penciled words re- call a momentous event, and recorded a patriot's prophecv. Nor have I failed to derive pleasure from the hope — during the, generation that has since Lipsed— that the prettv slave girl lived to see her race delivered and herself to walk in peace and security under a flag that patriots have borne on a thousand battlefields since I saw her on the auction-block; a flag , though scarred by shot and shell, no longer — thank God — bearsaround its forty-four stars the blighting stain of human slavery. The inclination is strong upon me to recite the many stirring events that transpired in New Orleans between Lincoln's election and my departure for the North on the first of June, 1861, such as the passage of Jefferson Davis through the citv on his way to be inaugurated £it Montgomer\' ; the ovation to General Twiggs — then a w^hite-haired man — after his perfidy in Texas; the scenes around the bulletins that announced the "invasion of Virginia;" the killing of the "Yankee circus tumbler, Ellsworth," by the "patriot " Jackson, at the Marshall House, Alexandria; the arm- ing and drilling of troops day and night in the streets; the grand- iloquent speeches and dazzling predictions of orators in halls and public squares; how our boatloads of Union refugees for an ex- citing week ran the gauntlet of curses, insults, and even brutal blows from drunken ruffians at every landing from New Orleans to St. Louis; our wild delight at the first sight of the Union flag at Cairo, which was then held, I think, by the Twenty-first Illi- nois, whose Colonel was a tanner's clerkfrom Galena. That clerk I had often met in my boyhood in Detroit, coming and going from his modest home on Fort street, and a square from my own home. The countr\^ and mankind now venerate his memory — the peerless commander and patriot, Ulysses S. Grant. I arrived in New York from New Orleans about the middle of June, going by river to St. Louis, thence b}^ rail to Cincinnati, by boat to Pittsburg, by rail to Philadelphia, and finished the trip by steamboat to New York, thus completing the longest river journey I had ever made. Within a week thereafter 1 w^as enrolled as a private in Captain William McCauley's company (H) of the Second Fire Zouaves (Seventy-third New York), being the Fourth Regiment of General Daniel E. Sickles' renowned "Excelsior" Brigade, which formed a part of Joe Hooker's Division, Army of the Potomac, and w^as mustered into the service at Staten Island, July 21, 1861, that 278 CAMP AND FIELD. hot and fateful Sunday that witnessed the disaster to our army at Bull Run. On the day our regiment left for the seat of war, and while waiting at the landing for the boat, there was witnessed the affecting and familiar scenes of farewell between the soldiers and the dear ones they were leaving in anxiet}^ and tears. For my own part I looked upon these parting caresses wnth a feeling of mingled sadness and envy, such as I had never felt so keenly as now, for my parents had died in Detroit while I was still a small boy. I was, in fact, a total stranger as yet, even to the members of my own companj^ except to one faithful friend,. "Billy" Lackey, who had shared in many of my wanderings, and whose acquaintance I had formed while I was a bell-boy at the Biddle House, Detroit. My predecessor there on the office-stool was the tragedian Lawrence Barrett, who had resigned his po- sition as bell-boy to assume the really lucrative but more en- chanting duty of carrying out dead Romans at Macfarland's Theater, just opposite the Biddle, the proprietors of which to this day point with pride to the modest throne once occupied by "Larry" and myself. But pardon for this digression. Two brothers and two sisters, whom I had not seen for years,, were widely scattered in Michigan, Illinois and Minnesota. I had myself drifted to New York some years before the war — the per- fect type of a rolling stone. The same insatiable passion for travel and thirst for change so common to boys deprived of their protectors and adrift from the beneficent and wholesome restraints of parental authority, had taken me by a stormy sea voyage, in which I narrowly escaped shipwreck, the year before, to New Orleans, from whence the breaking out of the war and a consuming desire to be a Union soldier had now recalled me. I found the great city aflame w^ith gay bunting and floating banners, the crowd sprinkled with officers and soldiers in be witch- ing uniforms, and the scjuares and streets resounding with martial music — sights and sounds that so enchanted me that verily as I marched clown Broadway in my bright C^hasseur uni- form to the sweet, gallant music of the band, I felt full}' assured that I was at once an object of admiration to the country and of tender and personal solicitude to everv pretty girl that waved a handkerchief from a window or tossed a rose from her bosom. Indeed, my amazement was not that so manv were going forth to save the Union, but that any j-oung man who had ever heard CAMP AND FIELD. 279 of George Washington, Bunker Hill, or Mexico, could exist and endure lite at home without wearing a mask. But we were now at the pier; the music had ceased, and I was about to take part in a scene for which no meditation or rehear- sal had prepared me. The soldiers broke ranks to take their farewell of relatives and friends, who now flocked about them until it seemed that every one except myself was the center of a weeping female group. Never in all m^' wide w^anderings amid the world's wilderness of strangers did the sense of my own utter loneliness sink with so deep and keen a pain into my heart as at this moment; and as weepingsisters and sweethearts pressed their thoughtful little gifts into the hands of the soldiers and gave them their tender Godspeed and kisses, and as mothers with streaming eyes pressed their boys to their throbbing hearts with "God bless and bring vou back to me, my darling son !" my memory flew to the one adored, sleeping far away, who might have been there too, to give me her farewell kiss and blessing. I w^alked apart from the crowd to shed the secret tears of the motherless boy, wdiich even the new-born pride of the soldier was powerless to stem. But the quick eye of a noble woman detected my ill-concealed emotion and withdrawal from the crowd, and with a woman's divine and unerring instinct swiftly read the cause. I felt a touch on my arm, and, turning, saw a sergeant of my com panj^ (George Reamer), who, pointing to a waiting carriage about thirty vards distant, said a lady in it wished to speak wnth me. The unex- pected call instantly recalled me to myself, but mvstified some- what, inasmuch as I was not much accustomed to social greet- ings from carriages, except at occasional funerals. Mv suspicions that the sergeant was indulging in an ill-timed practical joke vanished when I saw one of the ladies beckon to me with her hand. So I promptly advanced, and, presenting myself at the carriage, respectfully doffed my cap and bowed to the occupants. The eldest of the two, a lady in middle life, richly and tastefullv attired, bent forward, and extending me her hand, apologized, with the sweetest of smiles, for the libertv she had assumed, as a stranger, in summoning me, and proceeded to explain that she felt the deepest interest in the cause of the Union, and a corre- sponding concern in the welfare of the brave voung fellows who were leaving those they loved and by whom thev were loved, to face danger and death for the countrv. With rare kindness and delicacy she added that, as I appeared to be the youngest of the soldiers present, and apparentlv alone, 280 CAMP AND FIELD. she bad taken a mother's privilege to speak with me, andthatthe same feehng now prompted her to inquire if I were going to the war with the knowledge and consent of my jjarents. In short, would I tell her who I was? To encourage candor and remove any embarrassment, she handed me her card, which bore the name of Mrs. Hall, and resi- dence in a fashionable street up town, and at the same time in- troduced me to the exceedingly pretty girl beside her as her niece. As may be surmised, I was not disposed to withhold a confi- dence so graciously invited by a noble lady whose gentle words and manner at once bespoke her refinement and rare kindness of heart, and with unreserved frankness I told her the story of my early orphanage in the West, the resulting separation of the children, of my varied employments and wide wanderings up to the present time, and concluded by telling her that, as I had not a relative within a thousand miles, and but a few acquaintances in the great city to which I had but just returned from the South, after ajourney of fifteen hundred miles, there was no one to know, still less to care, should I meet a soldier's death. That my story had touched her kind heart deeply was manifest- ed in the close attention she gave to every word of the narrative, and by the tears that glistened in her fine eyes at its close. She carefully entered my name, company and regiment upon a leaf of her pocket tablet, and taking my hand, looked steadfastly at me, and with an earnestness that strangely stirred me and that has left an ineffaceable imprint on my memor}', she spoke these words : "Frank, you are going aw^ay to the war, and I fear that it is to be a more cruel and also a much longer struggle than is gen- erally believed ; but our cause is a righteous one, the Government has boundless resources, and eventuallv must triumph. Thou- sands of noble lives must be lost and bitter privations endured. You will see a hard time, and many of these poor fellows are now taking their last leave on earth of those thev love. Yet I feel as- sured you will be spared and returned. I shall keep track of you ; and now mark this : You say you are a private, and as yet a stranger in the regiment. I want you to come home the Captain of your company, and I firmly believe you will." The last bell was now ringing, the soldiers tore themselves from their weeping relatives and sprang on board ; in a few hurried words I expressed my fervent gratitude to my new-found friend for her kindly interest, assured her that I would treasure and try to deserve words that were most welcome to me then if ever. She pressed my hand cordially, and her eyes filled with tears as CAMP AND FIEI.b. 281 she said; "Good-by, dear bo}^; God bless and protect you." I bowed low, said good-by, and walked briskly on board the steamboat, the gang-plank was drawn in, the paddle-wheels lashed the water into a foain, the crowded boat swept free from her moorings, the soldiers swarmed to the upper deck, and while the band struck up "The girl I left behind me," the boys sent up a lusty cheer, swung their caps and shouted a last good-by to their friends on the receding pier, which was now a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and the Seventy-third was away for the war ! The service rendered by that gallant regiment for the four years that followed, with their flood of mighty events, rightlv entitles it to a shining page in the history of the restored Union. Its colors, borne by stalwart Harry Bell, were the first over the rebel works at Yorktown, and my own company captured the first rebel flag in the Peninsular campaign, a trophy still pos- sessed by the surviving veterans. It fought with conspicuous valor under McClellan from Williamsburg to Malvern Hill ; with Pope at Bristow Station and the second Bull Run; with Burnside at Fredericksburg, and Hooker at Chancellorsville. Immediately in its front on that memorable Saturday night, May 2, 1863, fell Stonewall Jackson ; it faced the furious assaults of Barksdale's Mississippians in front and bore unflinchingly the murderous flank fire of Longstreet's artiller}^ and infantry in the bloody Peach Orchard at Gettysburg, and its men bore their gallant corps commander. Sickles, from the field when he fell. In all the battles that left their crimson track from the Wilder- ness to Appomattox, their torn colors were ever in the van of victor}', and when peace dawned at last over a restored Union, a handful of bronzed and scarred veterans were all that returned of the thousand bright young volunteers who waved good-bv to mothers, sisters and sweethearts on the pier at New York in the Mid-summer of '61 . Every survivor brought home the remembrance of a thrilling- experience, and fortune had marked me from the first for adven- tures and cruel experiences beyond the usual pale of a soldier's life. A mere passing glimpse only of that experience can be em- braced in this narrative, and is touched upon only because it is inseparably woven with the incidents that form the central and special subjects 6f interest that inspired me to preserve them in this memoir as they are imprinted in my memor\'. In this record it is enough to say that I was four times wound- ed in battle, and by the explosion of a rebel shell at Gettysburg 282 CAMP AND FIELD. the sight of one of im- eyes was totally destroyed. Strange to say, the organ has not been in the least mutilated, and its blind- ness eannot be detected now except by the powerful aid of the oculist's glass. I received this injury and a wound of the ankle besides at the critical moment of the second day's battle, when our regiment, posted in front of Joseph Sherfy's house, near the Emmitsburg road, with Randolph's battery, the Sixty-eighth and One Hundred and Fourteenth Pennsylvania, for our nearest neighbors, was or- dered to retire by General Humphreys toward Hancock's line, and under a terrific artillery and infantry fire from front and flank that struck down hundreds of men in the space of a few minutes. This was the fateful moment for me — when every man needed his head as well as his feet — that one of Longstreet's shells burst in my face, killed ahorse beside me, and killed and wounded a dozen men. It was as if I had been struck by lightning, and I fell as unconscious as if my head had been taken from my shoulders by the blade of the guillotine. The horse falling w^ith his neck over my face, I must have soon smothered had I not been rescued by a lieutenant of Barksdale's Mississippi Brigade, which passed over me a few minutes before its leader was killed. The lieutenant, when he dragged me from under the horse, supposed me dead, but was attracted by my new sword-belt, which he could not detach without releasing me. He subsequent- ly showed his kindness by assisting me to the shade of the old cherry-trees at the side of the Sherfv house. Airs. Sherfv still shows visitors a Union shell buried almost from sight in one of those old trees, that had been fired from Cemetery Hill, and jealously protects it from relic-pirates by a wiresereen, assisted at night by a belligerent and loyal bulldog. I was for a time quite dazed, and could scarcely realize that I was in the enemv's hands; nor did I know, until I tried to walk unassisted through Sherfy's gate, that I was also wounded in the aukle, and that my shoe was full of blood. The appalling sight of the dead and wounded of both sides from the position of the First Massachusetts, to the right of the Sherfy house, to and through that bloody Peach Orchard ! Would that I could banish the recollection of the cruel sight ! On that day I met with the fate which of all others I had dread- ed and more than once escaped by a hair in Virginia — I was taken prisoner! I felt my misfortune the more keenly for having met it in our own territory — Pennsylvania. That I had reason to dread such a misfortune, the fearful experiences of the year and CAMP AND FIELD. 283 eight months that followed dreadfully proved. One of my broth- ers, \'Ounger than myself, a private in the Eighty-ninth Illinois, sleeps \vith the 14-, 000 Union martyrs of Anderson ville; while my eldest brother, of the Fifth Michigan, carried to his grave the marks of his cruel sufterings in the death-pens at Salisbury and Florence. 1 spent ten months within the walls of Libby prison, and ten more in the prisons at Danville, Macon, Charleston, Columbia, and Charlotte. During this long captivity I made five escapes, but was each time retaken. I was one of the 109 Union officers who, with Colonel Thomas E. Rose, escaped through the tunnel at Libby prison on the night of February, 9, ISG^, and was re- taken near Charlottsville, with Lieutenants William L. Watson and Charles H. Morgan, of the Twenty-first Wisconsin. The former still lives in New York, and the latter, who has served sev- eral terms since in Congress from Alissouri, still lives at Lamar, in that State. I was savagely punished by confinement in a narrow^, dark and freezing dungeon under the sidewalk at Libby, until I was on the verge of death. But youth and hope sustained me through it all, and I returned to the Union lines a month before Lee's surrender. I saw the war in all its most terrible phases for those four memorable years, and ^rom both sides of the lines; shared in the joy of the restored Union, and in the happv, glorious return. The fortunes of war which, indeed, had brought me back home with four wounds and the far deeper scars of a fearful captivity, and with a captain's bars upon my shoulders, had still showed me little tenderness, and finally it denied me one long-coveted wish : I never saw or heard again of the kind and noble lad v whose gen- tle and sympathetic words and mothcrlv blessing had ever been with me on the w^eary march and lonelv picket ; had inspired me with a soldier's ambition in camp, nerved me in battle, brighten- ed even the cold, dark dungeon of Libbv, and whose confident prediction was so singularly fulfilled. The incidents that I am about to relate are within my personal and positive knowledge, and the actors I shall introduce were conspicuous figures in, and known to everr survivor of, my regi- ment. My company (H) Avas the first in line, and Company C, Cap- tain John Downey, was the second. As a consequence, the ac- quaintance formed between such near neighbors was both intimate and agreeable. Among the bovs of C were two young brothers, Thomas and George Dennen, who were twins. I had 284- CAMP AND FIELD, often noted with pleasant interest the close resemblance between twins while they remained children, but in no other instance did I ever see this resemblance so perfectly preserved to maturity; nor was the likeness merely facial, but in form, height, weight, walk, gesture, carriage, tone of voice, articulation, and even peculiari- ties of laugh. Nature, in their make, seemed to have perpetrated a practical joke, for all features conspired to make them perfect counterparts of each other, and a source of endless and ludicrous perplexity to their friends, who could never feel satisfied in their minds that thev were not imparting secrets to Tom that were strictly in- tended for George. Finally, Tom was made a lieutenant, and his twin orderly-sergeant. The colonel, "Mickey Burns," ahvays declared that he had asked the governor of New York for a commission for Tom, not because he was a better or braver soldier than his twin, but be- cause the interests of the service — in fact, the peace of the regi- ment — demanded that he should have a distinguishing mark, so that he "could tell the d things apart." This mark, however, did not alwavs serve the intended purpose as was shown" in the instance I am going to relate. One night down on the Rappahannock, George (the sergeant) entered his brother's tent, and found him sleeping soundly, after a hard tour of duty that had engaged him many miles from camp for a week, and for which task he had been specially chosen by the colonel, who happened to be absent from his headquarters when he returned. George had not accompanied his brother on this expedition, but a conference with him immediately after he came back to camp, soon acquainted him with all the material facts relating to the enterprise. It was now several hours alter dark, and George finding his tired twin soundly sleeping, gave up the idea that brought him to the tent for one of greater brilliancy that suddenly dawned upon him, and which was all the more fascinating because the execution of it was attended by no or- dinary risk to himself- Hastily dofiing his sergeant's jacket and cap, he put on tho^e of the lieutenant, leaving his own exactly in their place, and buckling his sword upon him he retired, carefully securing the flies of the tent, and a few minutes later boldly presented himself at Colonel Burns' headquarters. Now, the colonel was keenly interested in the expedition on which he had sent his subordinate, and as he was anxious to hear his report, he gave orders to the sentinel in front of his tent CAMP AND FIKLD. 285 that no one else should be allowed to disturb him that night. The light in the tent was dim, and made somewhat dimmer by a judicious shift by the "lieutenant" of the single burning candle into the tent in rear, and communicating with the one in which the two now took seats. The "lieutenant" was w^armh^ greeted b}^ the colonel, for no man in the arm^-- had a higher repute for solid hospitality than the ever-lamented and genial Mickey Burns, w^ho, it is safe to say, was as well known in the Army of the Potomac as its then com- mander. A fresh canteen was produced, sampled, and pronounced good by the "tired lieutenant," w-ho now philosophically concluded that as he was in for it anyhow, he "might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb," lit a cigar, settled himself comfortably, and proceeded to fill himself up with "commissary" and the colonel with picturesque lies, that so greatly delighted the latter wnth the prowess of his subaltern, that at last a second canteen and more cigars w^ere produced. The colonel was no singer, but this did not prevent him from singing on this happy occasion, and the bo^'s still lingering around the company camp-fires were entertained, if not charmed, by a vigorous duet of voices roaring out from headquarters : " 0, we'll all drink stone blind, Johnny fill up the bowl." Indeed, it was plain that the colonel and his guest were having a time of the monkey and parrot order, w^hich might have been prolonged until reveille had not a very natural though unpro- vided for circumstance transpired. The twin, whom we left sleeping in his tent, awoke, and as the darkness prevented him from discovering the change of cap and jacket, he put on those he found without the remotest suspicion. Although it was now nearly midnight, he determined to call on the colonel, in whose tent he still saw a light, and as he ap- proached headquarters he was astounded to hear a voice, which he instantly recognized as that of his twin, roaring out in a demoralized strain the camp song, that the trumpet voice of Don Glacken, of Company I, made a special favorite on the march: "0, I belonu^ to the Fire Zouaves; 0, don't you think I'd oughter, 0, I'm going down to Washington to fight for Abraham's daughter," while the colonel yelled his approval of the singer and song with, " Good boy, Tom ! Whoop her up again. Pass the canteen ! " 286 CAMP AND FIELD. The real Tom now discovered that he had sergeant's stripes on his arms, and the sentinel let him approach near enough to recon- noiter. One peep ^Yithin fully revealed to him the situation, and he retreated in the darkness to enjoy his laughter undisturbed. He had tigured in too many pranks with his twin to be surprised bv this one, and he now determined to take part in the last act of this comedy. He hunted up Captains Downey, Shine, LeFort and several other officers always eager for a lark, and in a few Avords explained to them the trick of his twin, and invited the party to accompany him to headquarters to witness its exposure and enjoy the big joke on Colonel Burns. The proposition was received with enthusiasm, and the partv proceeded to headcpiarters. The colonel was summoned, and amid a peal of laughter Tom revealed the fraud. Burns, though thunderstruck for a solemn moment, and visibly fuddled with his revel, still retained his ever-ready wit, and as he was but too appreciative of a good practical joke himself, he re- solved that this one should not pass without sharing the honors with another victim. Working himself up into a well-simjilated rage, he poured out a territic tirade that startled the party, and indignantly de- nounced the "sergeant " before him as an impudent villain, boldlv seeking to insult and injure his brother, who was a superior offi- cer; and instantly summoning the otncer of the guard, with a detail of men, the paralyzed and innocent lieutenant, in spite of his vociferous protests that he was the lieutenant and not the sergeant, was ignominiously hustled away to the guard-house, wherehespcntthenightamongthe common batch of campoffend- ers, while the fraudulent "lieutenant," now a physical wreck from his prolonged wrestle with the colonel's canteen, was given a parting toast by Burns, in which the roaring delegation joined with perfidious enthusiasm, after which he was escorted bv all hands to Tom's tent, where he slept the sleep of the just on the snug couch and in the stolen uniform of his outraged twin. To recite all the pranks which a marvelous resemblance enabled these brothers to play upon each other and their friends, would present a mirth-provoking comedy that would bear no mean comparison to the ludicrous perplexities of Shakespeare's two Dromios in the bard's "Comedy of Errors." * A melancholy interest attaches to this particular camp-plav of the Dennen brothers, for fate decreed that it should be the last. A month from then poor Tom lay among the slain of our regi- ment at Chancellorsville, and within a few vards of where Stone- CAMT AND FIELD. 287 wall Jackson fell, immediately in our front, and his twin was weeping over him with a grief that made the stoutest of the sol- diers weep with him. The bereaved brother and myself were promoted to second lieutenants immediately after the battle, and we thenceforth be- came messmates, shared the same tent and blanket, and were in- separable and affectionate friends. But the soldier's pride of promotion, the colonel's generous approval, and thetenderest as- surances of a comrade's sympathy were powerless to rouse the heart-broken brother from the deep melancholy into which the death of his twin had sunk his once bright spirits. He shunned his old associates, nor sought to mingle socialh' with the new companions which his advancement as an officer offered him, and would sit in his tent for hours at a time with Tom's photograph in his hands and tears glistening in his eyes. To me alone he gave his company and confidence, and spoke ever of Tom with touching affection, for his name was woven with ever}^ tender memory' of his life. When I greeted him on his first appearance in the uniform of an officer, he faintW smiled, and said: "I shall not wear it long; I shall follow Tom, and be killed in the next battle." I soon saw that this conviction so completely dominated his mind, that any effort to dissuade him from yielding to a morbid fancy, induced by a severe bereavement, tended only to irritate him, and on the long march in June from the Rappahannock into Pennsjdvania after Lee. I seldom ventured a comment on his prediction of impending death; yet no dav passed in that campaign that he did not revert to that subject, bewail his loss, and repeat his prediction with unchanging ear- nestness. An hour before midnight, July 1, 1863, our regiment, after a severe, hot and hungrj^ march from Emmittsburg, Md., went into bivouac in the low^ swale between the Round Tops and Cemeter}' Hill at Gettysburg. The First and Eleventh corps at bav around the slopes of that providential hill, had on that afternoon, after a bloody encounter and heroic struggle of many murderous hours with most of the rebel army, under Hill and Ewell, abandoned the town to the exulting rebels. The lamented leader of the First corps, Reynolds, lay dead near by. The Third corps, under Sickles, and the Fifth, under S\'kes, had reached the ground, and the magnificent Sixth, wnth its idolized "Uncle John," leading, was coming at a run, and by one of the most remarkable marches ever made during the civil war, and daylight found the two great 288 CAMP AND FIEI.B, armies stripped for what every private knew^ was to be the migfhtiest and most momentous battle of the war. For a generation the painter, historian and poet have exerted their genius in vain to give the country a true picture and satis- fying record of the three days' struggle that has made this field immortal. This imperfect reminiscence necessitates that I should present at least a passing glimpse of the second day's battle, for it is inseparable from my theme. The day was far spent and the sun was low when the action began in Longstreet's desperate effort to seize the coveted and commanding Round Top on Meade's left, a design which Sickles had even before noon warned the commanding general was cer- tainly meditated by Lee, and which, fortunately, was in the last supreme moment frustrated b}^ the unerring judgment and swift action of Warren, and the heroic defense of Vincent and Hazlett, who died together in the fierce struggle for possession of the for- ever-famous hill. George Dennen and I were beside each other that day constant- ly, as we had been during all the severe long march from the Rappahannock. We were far ahead of our supply trains and without a cracker, but our loyal friend, " Sheep}^ " White, who had charge of our mule, had followed us pluckily to the field, and gave us all the refreshments he had, poor fellow, a cup of coffee and two cigars. For this fidelity our mess granted "Sheepy," who was nearly in tears, not only a vote of thanks, but a full pardon for the loss of our mule, a sad-eyed but hardened and malevolent villain, for whom "Sheepy " had regularly stolen rations on the march, even when horses of good repute had gone without, and who crowned a long series of crimes by ungratefully deserting the very first night he found himself on the soil of a free state, and with all our baggage. Nothing, in fact, could attach the ingrate to his home but a trace-chain. Now that the two armies were facing each other, and the great battle imminent, I closely observed George Dennen, to note what effect the prospect had ttpon him, now that his gloomy prediction v^as to be put to the crucial test. If the nearness of the battle wrought any visible change in his demeanor, it \vas observable only in a greater vivacity of spirits than I had seen him exhibit on any day since the death of his brother, whose name for the first time seemed absent in his conversation. What his secret thoughts were must be left to conjecture. For several hours before the fight opened, our regiment lay CAMP AND FIELD. 289 in a little orchard of apple-trees around Smith's house, en the Emmittsburg road, while the sharpshooters m front of the house exchanged shots with those of the enemy concealed at the border of the wood south and west of our position. It was during this lull that my friend drew a sealed letter from his pocket that I knew him to have written several days before while we were bivouacked on the skirt of Frederick, and which, for some unexplained reason,«he refused to entrust to the mail, which was then accessible to him. This letter he now handed to me, and I was not in the least surprised to see that it bore the name and address of one whose name he had often mentioned in the confidence of friendship. He now for the first time that day reverted to the subject of his brother's death at Chancellorsville, to the now impending battle, and his own fate, which he declared was foreordained, but which he said he did not fear. He exacted from me then one special and final favor as his comrade and friend, which was that, if it were in my power at all, in the near future, to deliver in person the let- ter which he now gave into my hands ; and if this were found im- possible, I was empowered and charged to destroy it. Strangely enough, it did not seem to occur to him that my chances of being able to gratify this wish, at least for a long time, even if I sur- vived the battle, were somewhat remote. But I did not express this thought, and gave my promise, and in the utmost good faith. With this the subject was dropped, much to my relief, and as we were now reminded that we still had the cigars given us bv "Sheepy," we lounged under an apple-tree, out of range of the stray bullets that clipped the branches now and then, and abated our hunger somewhat in the solace of a smoke. \_We had but just finished our cigars when the rattle of musketry and shriek of shell near the Roimd Tops signalled the "opening of the ball," as the boys termed these ominous preludes, and soon the battle spread with the speed of a prairie fire through the weird rocks and masked pathways of "Devil's Den," and up to the border of the wheat -field, and finally to Sherfy's peach-orchard. Major Tremaine, "of ours,'' of Sickles' staff, came toward us from the left at a gallop. We knew his message well before he reached us, and the men sprang into line, and facing left we moved toward the orchard at double-quick through a shower of bullets and bursting shells. The One Hundred and Fourteenth Pennsyl- vania, stretched along the Emmitsburg road from the gate of the Sherfy house and past the barn, were hotly at work and sorely pressed, but facing their foes gallantly, as were the First 290 CAMP AND FIELD Massachusetts to their right, andRandolph'sbattery totheleft, a^ the edge of the orchard. We came to a halt in front of the barn, faced to the front, and as the charging Mississippians rose to view abov^e the crest, traversed at that point by the Emmitsburg road, we poured into their faces a hot and ringing volley that stretched them over the ground in scores. They staggered, but closed up, and with the familiar " Hi-yi ! " returned our fire and pressed forward with the savage courage of baited bulls. The whole Third corps was now in, and its angled front could be traced by a line of fire and wav- ing flags from where Humphrey's right brigade aligned itself along the road leading to the town from the right of Sherfy's to where the lane intersects it in the peach-orchard, and where later bending there led by the wheat -field and the "Den" to the base of Little Round Top. The batteries of Randolph, Smith, McGilvery and Bigelow were belching forth shot, shell and grape into the faces of Longstreet's charging columns ; showers of branches fell from the peach-trees in the orchard in the leaden hurricane that swept it from two sides. Every door, window and sash of the Sherfy house was shivered to atoms. The barn close by was riddled like a sieve from base to roof, and cannon-shot at every instant split its boards and timbei-s into showers of kindling-wood. A shell burst under a load of rails beside it, and whipped them through the air like straws in a whirlwind. Couriers and aides dashed right and left with orders; officers brandished swords and pistols, and shouted commands which could not be heard twenty feet away. Shells burst over the heads of the firing infantr}^, and sent up volcanoes of sand in the front and rear of the fighting line. In- numerable balloons of smoke floated over the field and marked where shells had burst and sent their deadU' messengers for vic- tims below. Torn flags and guidons along the line fell and rose again through the thickening powder-fog. Soldiers blinded withbloodfromghastlyheadwotuids, streamed in hundreds from the orchard, lane, road and wheat-field toward the low swale in rear of Sickles' line. Riderless horses, quivering from fright, plunged madly over the dead and dying that dotted the field from the battle's front to Cemetery ridge. Devil's Den, and the dead among its ghastly caverns, now faded from sight under a canopy of smoke, but the rattling volleys and rino-in*'«'»^'''€i^^ )URING the summer of 1864, the army under Sherman liad fallen back from its position before Atlanta and swept around to Hood's rear, General Logan leading' the advance. We were not molested until we neared Flint river. There the enemy had planted a masked battery, and, as we approached, it enfiladed our line. You could scarce encounter more disagreeable companions than shot and shell, and the boys were not long in taking to the timber. General Logan at once ordered u\) a field battery of brass "Napoleons," and accepted the challenge for an artillery duel. There was nothing to direct the fire of our gunners save the white puffs of smoke; but they soon silenced the rebel cannon, and cleared the way for the column. We then rode forward again. Just as we turned a bend in the road we emerged suddenly into a small clearing. A rude log cabin stood in the clearing, and hanging from one of the bushes we noticed a yellow cloth. It naturally occurred to us that this was an improvised hos- pital, and we rode up to inquire. At the door of the cabin an old woman, evidently of the "cracker" type, presented her- self, but, on seeing that we were "Yankees," beat a hasty re- treat. We were not disposed to be so easily baffled, and calling her out began to ply her with questions. She told us " there wa'n't no wounded men thar," and when asked why she had put out a yellow flag reijlied: " Waal, yer 306 CAMP AND FIELD see, my gal is sick, and I reckoned ef I put out that yer hosp't'l rag, you'ns wouldn't be pesterin' 'round." '' What's the matter with your child? " said I; " we are med- ical officers." " Waal, now," she responded, " ef you'ns is real doctors, just look in and see. Time my gal was sickest, two of yourn shells come clar through my cabin, and, I tell you, it was right skeery for a spell." We accepted the invitation and walked in. The cabin, built of rough pine logs, afforded but one room, about twelve feet square. A small log meat-house was the only outbuilding, — the cow stable having been knocked to pieces by our shells, — except a small bark-thatched "lean-to,"' in which we found a loom containing a partially completed web of coarse cotton "homespun." Aside from this loom, the only household arti- cles were an old skillet, a dilapidated bed, two or three chairs without backs, and a queer collection of gourds. The shells had indeed played havoc with the interior. The roof had been badly shattered, and a stray shot had pierced the walls. A SAD SPECTACLE. It had cut one of the logs in two, and forced one jagged end out into the room so that it hung threateningly over the bed upon which we saw a young girl, by whose side was a babe just born. It was a touching spectacle. Here, in this lonely cabin, stripped by lawless stragglers of both armies of food and clothing, and shattered by the flying shells of artillery, in the storm and fury of the battle, had been born this sweet innocent. The mother was the wife of a Confederate soldier whose blood had stained the "sacred soil" of Virginia but a few months after marriage, and the child was fatherless. The babe was still in its own innocence, but the writer with his jackknife cut from the unfinished web in the old loom a piece of coarse home- spun, in which it was soon deftly swaddled. Fortunately we had our hospital knapsacks with us, and w^e did all that our limited stores permitted to relieve the wants of the young mother and child. A CHRISTENING IN ORDER. But by this time quite a number of officers had gathered about the cabin, and they amused themselves by listening to the old lady's account of this stirring incident. One of the officers had CAMP AND FIELD. 307 given her some "store terbacker," with which she had filled a cob pipe, and the fact that she was spitting through her teeth with such accuracy as to hit a fly at ten paces, nine times out of ten, showed that she was enjoying herself after the true " cracker " style. Presently some one suggested that the baby ought to be christened, and it being duly explained to her, she replied, " Oh, yes! baptised, I reckon, if you'ns has got any preacher along." This was all the boys wanted, and an orderly was at once sent back with the compliments of the surgeon, requesting that a chaplain might be allowed to return with the messenger. The general asked the orderly for what purpose a chaplain was wanted, and the orderly replied that the doctors were going to have a baptism. SOME DEVILTRY ON HAND. Upon this General Logan (for he it was) significantly re- marked that the names mentioned were sufficient to satisfy him that some deviltry was on hand, but that the chaplain might go. Then, inviting the colonel, who happened to be rid- ing with him, he set out himself for the scene, and soon joined the party at the cabin. "General," said the doctor, "you are just the man we're after." "For what?" "For a godfather," replied the doctor. "Godfather to what?" demanded the general. The matter was explained, and as the doctor led the way into the house, the boys noticed there was something in Black Jack's face that they were not wont to see there, and that in his eyes there was a humid tenderness far different from their usual flashing brightness. He stood for a moment silent, gazing at the mother and fatherless child, and their pitiful sur- roundings, and turning to those about him, said tersely: — " That looks rough." Glancing around at the ruins wrought by our shells, he called out: " I say, boys, can't you straighten this up a little? Fix up that roof. There are plenty of ' stakes' around that old stable; push back that log into place; help the old lady to clear out the litter, and — I don't think it would hurt you any to leave a part of your rations! " 308 CAMP AND FIELD. The boys leaned their muskets against the logs, and, while some cut brush, others swept up the splinters and pine knots that the shot and shell had strewn over the floor, and not one of them forgot to go to the corner of the cabin and empty his haversack! It made a pile of commissary stores, consisting of meat, coffee, sugar, hard-tack and chickens (foraged from her next door neighbor), surpassing any that this poor "cracker" woman had probably ever seen. This done, the next thing was the christening, and the chap- lain came forward to perform his sacred office. " What are you going to give her for a name? I want suthin' right peart, now," said grandmother. She was told that the name should be satisfactory, and forth- with she brought out the baptismal bowl — a gourd — full of water fresh from the spring. THE CHRISTENING. General Logan now took the baby, wrapped in its swaddling clothes of homespun, and held it while the chaplain went through with the ceremony. The latter was brief and solemn, the spectators behaving with becoming reverence, and the battle- born babe was christened " Shell Anna." The party now turned to leave the cabin and resume the march, when General Logan, taking a gold coin from his pocket — a coin that he had carried as a pocket-piece for many a day — presented it to the old lady as a " christening gift " for his godchild, and the officers and men added one by one a " greenback," until the sum was swelled to an amount greater than this brave-hearted "cracker" had ever handled. Before parting, the general cautioned her to put the money in a safe place, lest some " bummer should steal it, in spite of every- thing," and then, ordering a guard to be kept over her cabin until the last straggler had passed, he rode away. The old lady's good-by was: "Waal! them thar Yanks is the beatenist critters I ever seen! " /T)i55io9 ^}d6<^. A MAGNIFICENT ASSAULT THAT WAS MADE BY SOL- DIERS WITHOUT ORDERS. "LET 'EM GO," vSAID THOMAS TO GRANT, AND THEY WENT. BY JAMES C. RODMAN, 51st ILLINOLS. f>T was at Mission Ridge that we got even with the John- W^ nies for the way they treated us at Chickamauga. For ■^ two months we had been completely bottled up in Chat- Js^e) tanooga. From the Tennessee river at the north end of the Ridge, away around to the peak of old Lookout, on the river below the town, stretched the line of rebel entrenchments. There was no communication with Bridgeport by rail or water. Meager supplies could only be obtained by hauling them over the mountains. The wagon trains were constantly harassed by rebel cavalry. Rations for men and animals became more and more scanty, until we were compelled to live upon a quarter of the regular allowance. For weeks we were hungry all the time. Men became gaunt and weak. Horses and mules died by hun- dreds. It was ''hard lines" for the Army of the Cumberland. The rebels had not a doubt that the army would soon be starved into surrender. They felt certain of their prey, confident that it was only a question of a few daj^s when we would be theirs, bag and baggage. The starving soldiers exhibited the utmost pa- tience and fortitude. Without complaint they did their daily round of duty, in camp or on the picket line, with an abiding faith that in some way they would get out of the scrape. In the meantime Thomas had superseded Rosecrans. Then came 310 CAMP AND FIELD. General Grant. Soon afterward, Joe Hooker, with two corps from the Army of the Potomac, marched down from Bridc^eport and opened up our "cracker line." I never heard such yelling as the boys did when the whistle of a locomotive was heard and the first train laden with food and clothing pulled into Chattanooga. "Uncle Billy" Sherman arrived with several divisions of his army. All these things gave a decidedly different aspect to the situation. Grant at once laid his plans to dislodge Bragg from the position he had so long held, and so much to our discomfort. It was now near the end of November, 1863. I will not undertake to describe the days of fighting which cul- minated in the grand charge upon Mission Ridge. It will be suf- ficient for the purpose of this article to say that the Union forces crowded the eneni}^ at every point. Hooker scaled Lookout Alountain and drove the rebels from it, while Sherman operated against Bragg's right at the north end of the Ridge. The Army of the Cumberland was in the centre of Grant's line. Grant was just a little bit fearful that Chickamauga had taken the "sand " out of that army and that it wouldn't fight. Thomas told Grant quietly to wait till his boys got a chance and he would see whether the}' would fight or not. It was on November 25 that the grand assciult took place. The regiment of which I was a member belonged to Ilarker's Brigade of Sheridan's Division of the Fourth corps. This corps had been formed by the consolidation of the old Twentieth and Twenty-first corps— formerly commanded by McCook and Crit- tenden — of the Army of the Cumberland. General Grant had de- termined upon an attempt to dislodge Bragg's rebel arm^^ from its troublesome position on Mission Ridge. Longstreet, who brought west a corps from Lee's army and fought at Chicka- mauga, had gone to attack Burnside at Knoxville, while the Union army had been largely augmented by the troops of Sher- man and Hooker. The ])rcliminary operations of the two com- manders last named have already been alluded to. At the same time Wood's Division of the Fourth corps had driven the enemy from Orchard Knob, a high hill and an important strategic point, halfway betw^een Chattanooga and the Ridge. The early part of the twenty-fifth was occupied in getting the army into position to operate in harmony with the movements of Hooker and Sherman. These maneuvers put the enemy on the alert, and bv the aid of glasses it could be seen that he was actively engaged in preparing to resist a possible attack. Bragg believed his fortified position on Mission Ridge to be impregnable. He would have been fully justified in this opinion had not subsequent ;amp and field. 311 events shown that nothino^ was impossible to brave men. It was between 8 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon when six suc- cessive cannon shots, fired from a battery on Orchard Knob, gave the signal for the Army of the Cumberland, occupying the centre of the long line, to advance. Marker's was the centre brigade in the formation oi' Sheridan's division. The order from Grant to Thomas was that his troops should dislodge the enemy from the rifle-pits and entrenchments at the base of the Ridge. For the time being he contemplated no advance bcA^ond that. To occupy the rifle-pits was the order given to division and bri- gade commanders. When the order was given to move forward, the soldiers re- sponded with the greatest alacrity. It was clear that they were ready and eager to avenge Chickamauga, and that there was plenty of fight in them yet. As soon as the magnificent lines started across the intervening space, the rebel batteries on the Ridge opened upon them with great fury, their fire being returned by the heavy guns in the forts in front of Chattanooga. The soldiers broke into a double-quick, to pass as cjuickly as possible inside the range of the enemy's guns. The rebel skirmishers were soon met and brushed awa\^ like a line of cobwebs. Thev broke for the works at the foot of the Ridge with the soldiers in blue close upon then heels. Without stopping for an instant, the as- sailants stormed the lower line of works, 2foind it was all over for him on this side of the Great River. That is all. I never knew even his name. In some home they may mourn him yet as missing. Perhaps his bones have been gathered up and in some of our cemeteries they are interred under the designation, "Unknown." What that man's past life had been, I know not. It may have been wild, and his speech may have been rough. I know that he was unkempt, unshaven, his clothes soiled with dirt and stained with blood; not at all such a picture as you would welcome, at first sight, into your parlor, or at your dining table. But this I have often thought, that in that last act of his he exhibited so much of what I consider the purely Christ-like attribute, that in the day when you and I 318 CAMP AND FIELD o shall stand before the just Judge, to be judged for what we have been and not for what we may have pretended to be, I would much rather take my chances in the place of a man who had so large an idea of practical Christianity, than in the place of many more pretentious persons I am acquainted with, I am, sir, very truly yours, James Tanner. a^S^-^J ^S^vS HOW IT SEEMS TO KILL A MAN. GENERAL MANDERSON, OF NEBRASKA. 1^1 HE first man I killed was before ^^ Richmond, when McCIellan was ) in command. I was doing picket J duty late one night near the bank of a creek, and had been cautioned to be specially watchful, as an attack was expected. I carried my musket half- cocked, and was startled by every rustle the wind made among the trees and dead leaves. It was some time after midnight that I saw a Confederate cavalryman dashing down the opposite side of the creek in my direction. As he was opposite I fired upon the horse and it fell. The cavalryman regained his feet in a moment and had drawn his pistols. I called him to surrender, but his only reply was a discharge from each revolver, one bullet inflicting a flesh wound in my arm. Then I let him have it full in the breast. He leaped three feet in the air, and fell with his face down. I knew I had fin- ished him. I ran and jumped across the creek, picked him up and laid him on his back. The blood was running out of his nose and mouth, and poured in a torrent from the ragged hole in his breast. In less time than it takes to tell it, he was dead, without having said a word. Then my head began to swim, and I was sick at my stomach. I was overcome by an indescribable horror of the deed I had done. I trembled all over, and felt faint and weak. It was with the greatest difficulty that I man- aged to get into camp. There they laughed at me, but it was weeks before my nervous system had recovered from the shock. i^~^^^ CONFEDERATE MONEY. ^^*^HE Confederate government did W^ not lack for money. In 1861 it "^ S^ issued $100,000,000, and until the last ye^r of the war continued to send out bills of every convenient denomina- tion, from iPlOOO to 25 cents. There were green five-cent postage stamps, with profile of Jefferson Davis on them, and these were sometimes used in mak- ing "change," but the man who did it was always pitied as a penurious, ras- cally fellow. Confederate money is handsome. Of course the paper is in- ferior, but some of the designs are well executed. It has a blue back, on which are intricate curves and circles and curls, and its value is denoted by a single word in letters an inch and a half tall. There is no uniformity in the designs. On some bills there will l>e imaginary heads and sketches, a woman, a pile of arms, a rush to battle. On others appear likenesses of Confed- erate heroes and Confederate state houses, — as Jefferson Davis on the fif- ties, and Alexander H. Stephens on the twenties; the Xashville, Tenn., state house on the tens, and the Richmond, Va., state house on the fives. The face of Confederate money is colored pink around the likenesses. The first bills were simple notes, payable in six montlis. The second and all subse- quent issues were made payable at dif- ferent times " after a ratification of a treaty of peace between the Confed- erate States of America and the United States." Confederate money was not long in going below par. During the war it was not the extortion of merchants which ran up prices to fabulous figures, but? it was the depreciation of the cur- rency. In some sections calico sold for ten dollars a yard, good shoes at eighty and one hundred dollars a pair. Fifteen dollars would purchase a spool of thread or a paper of pins. Medicines and all luxuries were not in the market for that sort of paper. A silver dollar was worth at least thirty Confederate dol- lars. The Confederacy understood that it had to protect its currency as well as its rights, and an act was passed mak- ing it treason for moneys to be ex- changed at different values. There has never been a craze among the curiosity collectors for Confederate money. The flOOO bill is scarce, and readily finds buyers at two or three dollars each ; the .f .500 bill can be bought for twenty or thirty cents ; the other denominations can be had for a song. Soon after the war men and women began to know for a certainty that their money was valuable only as paper. The ingenious housewives began to use it as money never before was used. They would paper their walls with old journals and periodicals, and put on a border made of Confederate money. Screens were made of bonds witli money borders — in fact, everything susceptible of ornamentation received its supply of paste and pink treasury notes. Siege of Knoxville. ATTACK UPON FORT SAUNDERS. NOVEMBER '29, 1863. Deeds of Heroism and Bravery Rarely if Ever Surpassed. GENERAL LONGSTREET COMPELLED TO FLEE FOR SAFETY. CAPT. CHAS. W. -VVALTON. [HE Confederate commander knew well that unless the /^^V^ place was soon reduced and our little army captured, y^ all hope of regaining East Tennessee would be lost, so the final attempt was made on Sunday, the 29th of No- vember, and the rebel troo])s' courage was raised to the high- est pitch, at the assurance of their leader that they should dine in Knoxville on that day. That Burnside had a voice in this matter I will presently show. Sunday came, and in a few hours Longstreet and his brave men were expecting to dine in Knoxville. The church bells had ceased ringing for morn- ing service, prayers were as- cending for continued protec- tion from different altars, while in the Episcopal church a hearty response came forth, "Good Lord, deliver us," as the minister read from the Litany, " From all assaults of the enemy, from battle and murder, and from sudden death." CAMP AND FIELD. 321 Hardly had the benedictions been pronounced in the churches before the '' assault of the enemy " was made, and Fort Saun- ders, made strong by every available means known to the engineer's profession, was the point assailed. Benjamin's and Buckley's favorite batteries of six guns each were mounted in the openings on solid floorings, the trees were €ut down in the immediate front, and, by an ingenious plan of Lieutenant Benjamin's, thick wires were stretched from stump to stump about knee-high to trip the enemy as they approached, while a deep ditch, almost impossible to leap over, encircled the fort. It was a sad scene, those rebel troops hurled against such a tower of strength, for we felt certain it could only end in dis- aster to them. Across the railroad, up the gentle slope, and through the stumps they came, while our guns were making havoc among their ranks. On they came, never faltering, with that well- known yell; the stumps that the wires were attached to are reached, and down they fall amid charges of grape and can- ister, while the steady fire of the infantry from the adjoining rifle-pits, although destructive, did not deter them from rushing forward. They filled the ditch, and every foot of ground gave evidence of their great courage. Lighted shells with short fuses and hand grenades were thrown over in the ditch, and in another moment through the smoke we discovered another brigade closed en masse rushing on to meet the same fate. Our guns opened on them with renewed vigor. Yells mingled with groans filled the air as they fell. and. unable to stand such a scorching fire, they broke and fled to the rear; the few who returned were truly fortunate. One or two leaped the ditch, climbed the parapet, and planted the colors on our fort, but it was only for a moment, as they were instantly hauled in by our men. Such deeds of heroism are rare, and we could not help but admire their pluck as they were marched off as prisoners of war. Before the smell of powder and smoke had passed away, I, with a few others, passed out of the fort, over the ditt;h on a plank, and looked on that scene of slaughter. Such a spectacle I never want to witness again! Men literally torn to pieces lay all around — some in the last throes of death, others groaning, and their faces distorted under the severe pains from their ghastly wounds. Arms and legs, torn from their bodies, lay 322 CAMP AND FIELD scattered around, wliile at every footstep we trod in pools of blood. The ground also was strewn with split guns, bayonets, and equipments, not to speak of hats and boots. Over a hundred dead bodies were taken from the ditch alone, while vast num- bers of wounded were being carefully carried within the lines to receive the best of care in our hospitals. Three hundred prisoners fell into our hands, representing eleven regiments, and it was evident that the enemy had met with a fearful loss, wliile ours was comparatively slight. A flag of truce having been granted the enemy until five o'clock, burial parties were sent out, and for an hour or two they were busy burying their dead, who were laid in rows and covered over with the soil. At the appointed time the signal gun from the fort was fired, the truce was at an end, and Fort Saunders resumed its work. This was Longstreet's last attempt to dine in Knoxville, and when he heard that General Sherman was coming to our aid with 55,000 men, he at once decided to raise the siege, pass on to Virginia, and join Lee. Thus ended the siege of Knoxville, after a period of six weeks, and, in a few days after, that section of the country was again free from the presence of the enemy. First Battery, Tort Gibson. 'ISTORY will accord to the 56th Ohio, and Slth Ind. Regt.'s the capture of the first battery at the battle of Port Gibson, and consequently the first victory of the Vicksburg campaign, under the orders of Col. James B. Slack, commanding 2d Brigade, 2d Di- vision, 13th Army Corps. Capturing: New Orleans. JXt>^nRAL PORTER says that h") "^ was the first to ui-ge upon the author- ities at Washington the importance of opening the lower Mississippi, and cap- turing Xew Orleans, and that it was he who suggested that Admiral Farragut be selected to connnaud the naval ex- pedition. •I-T=S l.'j^^S^*^- ^©gaRg Brouer^ at KemegQOJ. VETERAN. fWAS with General Logan all through the war, and in all that time I never saw him shrink in battle. While the battle of Kenesaw Mountain was in progress I saw Logan ride at full speed in front of our lines when the bullets seemed to fall thioker than hail. Bare-headed, powder-stained, and his long, black hair floating in the breeze, the general looked like a mighty conqueror of inediseval days. He did not know what danger was. Standing upright in the stirrups of his saddle I have seen him plunge to the head of a charging col- umn and bury himself in the smoke and flame of the enemy's guns. A few moments before the good McPherson fell at Atlanta, a shell burst within twenty feet of General Logan. Turn- ing to McPherson, who had been slightly stunned by tlie explosion, Logan coolly remarked : — " General, they seem to be popping that corn for us." Twenty minutes later McPherson lay bleeding on the field, while Logan, who had assumed command of the troops, was hurling his battalions against the enemy with the skill of a born soldier. First Shot at dJettysbnrg-. '*¥''HE battle of Gettysburg was begun by Archer's Tennessee Brigade striking a part of General Reynolds's Corps. MEDALS OF HONOR. SIGNS OF TREASON. Tip' HE first occasion of the presentation of Medals of Honor to enlisted men in the Army of the Potomac, occurred September 15, 1864, when medals were presented to Sergeant John Shilling, Co. H, 3d Del. Regt. ; Private T. C. Anderson, Co. H, 18th Mass. Regt., and Private George H. Reed, Co. E, 11th Penn. Vols. ■^^IIE first instance (said the Rich- mond Examiner) of the surrender of any post, large or small, by a Con- federate ofiicer to the enemy, in which the marks and signs of treason were unmistakable, was the surrender of Fort Gaines, Mobile Bay, to Admiral Farragut, by Col. Charles Anderson of the 21st Ala. Rest. Reminiscences of General Opdycke. A CONFEDERATE CAPTAIN SHOT ON HIS OWN DOORSTEP. J. D. REMINGTON, Company I, 73d ininois. x^^"\.v^^:^.VvX\^x^^■v^w\\xvi EN. E. OPDYCKE was a man that all the boys of the ■i^ 1st Brigade, 2d Division, 4th Corps, learned to love, — and as brave as the bravest. I well remember that the 1st Brigade had been the rear-guard all day on Novem- ber 30, 1864. It skirmished with the rebels from Spring Hill to Franklin, Tenn,, and when we got to Franklin the works were full of the troops which had marched in ahead of us. We were ordered to the rear and told to get our supper, for it was late — near sundown. We soon got supper, for we knew we would not have long to stay, as Hood was forming to charge and we could see his troops preparing for it. Some of us did not get an opportunity to eat before we were ordered to fall in, I had a tin can of coffee and a slice of pork, but not the time to eat it then. I handed the can of coffee to a comrade, and we were soon in line, awaiting orders. When the enemy made the charge and drove the troops out of the works on the turnpike, in front of Carters house. Major Motherspan gave this com- mand: "73d, fix bayonets and charge!"' We did so, and the rest of the brigade with the 73d gave a yell, and we all charged at the same time, General Opdycke in the lead. We all w^ent in — even Major-General Stanley, commanding the corps. As he rode past us gome one near me yelled out, in the language of Marmion, "On! Stanley, on!" I wonder if General Stanley remembers the incident, for he raised his hat and said, " Come on, boys!" I wish to say a word about Captain Carter, of the Confederate army. It was not a hundred yards from his house that he was killed, but on his own doorstep. Carter's house was inside of our lines. The enemy had charged and got inside our lines and CAMP AND FIELD. 325 Carter had almost got to the house, when a comrade at my side ordered him to surrender. His reply was, "I will die first I" This comrade told me in case he missed the Johnny I was to shoot at him. My comrade fired and the rebel kept running towards the house. I raised my 16-shooter and fired, and as he got to the door he fell. From some of the boys who were wounded and captured we learned afterwards that Carter fell dead on his doorstep with two bullets in him. Truly did he come home to die! Gen. Pat Cleburne rode at the head of his troops. His horse was killed on our works, and, as the horse fell, Cleburne pitched headlong into our works, mortally wounded. He died in about ten minutes. He fell near the cotton-gin, east of the pike. General Cleburne's home was in Nashville. Carter's house was on the west side of the pike. At the beginning of the fight the 73d lay west of the pike, but was crowded to the east. At the time Cleburne was killed the 73d lay on both sides of the pike. The 1st Brigade captured thirteen rebel fiags, instead of ten. General Opdycke cZ/rf fight with the men, and the men loved and honored him. After we got to Nashville, and were wandering around in the rain look- ing for a place to camp, some of the boys tore some boards off of a fence. The man who owned the place — an old, crippled- up butternut — told General Opdycke about it and wanted him to stop them, to which the general replied: " Go in the house and shut your mouth, or I will turn my brigade loose on you. They are heroes, every one of them! Look at those thirteen rebel flags they captured at Franklin last night." The old man went in the house and said no more to Opdycke. Butler's Conimaud. First Officer Escaped from "Libby." '♦JP'HE first to designate General But- 'CJP'HE first officer that made his escape ler's command as tlie "Army of from Libby Prison was Captain the James," is said to have been Qiiar- Skelton, of the 17th Iowa Regt. Ha termaster-General Ingalls. was twice captured and twice escaped. m .c^- 'fie Fort Piirooj (|}esse(Bre. APRIL 12, 1864. BY THE PILOT OF THE "NEW ERA." PRIL, 1864, I was a pilot on the United States gunboat New Era, of the Mississippi squadron, and was patrolling the Mississippi river in the vicinity of Fort Pillow, which was situated on a bluff on the east side of the river, some forty-five miles above Memphis, Tenn, The fort was built of logs and dirt, with port-holes for mus- ketry and artillery. It was not considered formidable, but with the assistance of one or more gunboats, it was thought to be strong enough to repel any ordinary force. Its artillery consisted of three eighteen-pound guns. It was garrisoned by colored troops principally, and was commanded by two as brave officers as ever fought a battle, namely, Majors Booth and Bradford. On the 10th of April, 1864, Major Booth received news from Memphis that Forrest, with a division of cavalry, was coming with a purpose to attack the fort. The orders were to hold the fort at all hazards, and he communicated the same to Cap- tain Marshall, who commanded the United States gunboat New Era, which was lying there at that time. The cavalry kept constantly on the lookout until the evening of the 11th, when Forrest's advance was reported within six miles. At 6 A. M., on the 12th of April, General Chalmers's brigade at- tacked and drove in the pickets, and our gunboat was called into action. Captain Marshall took position in the pilot-house to communicate with the fort and to direct our fire. They were in plain sight, four hundred to six hundred yards distant from our boat, forming a half circle around the fort. They opened fire with musketry, their artillery not having yet arrived. At 6.30 the gunboat began firing, using fuse shell with terrible effect. The artillery of the fort opened with canister, shot, and shell. CAMP AND FIELD. 327 making dreadful havoc in their ranks, and causing them to temporarily disperse. During the lull in the fight Major Booth ordered all inside the fort, and directed that all tents outside should be burned, in order that the view of the garrison might be unobstructed. It was while setting fire to a tent that he fell, mortally wounded. Major Bradford then assumed command. He, too, was a brave officer. The quartermaster of the fort refused to go into the fort, but went into a log house contain- ing commissary stores situated near the river — and remained there. This house was burned with the quartermaster in it, and his charred remains were found the following day while we were gathering and burying our dead. The fort, with the assistance of the gunboat, kept the rebels at a safe distance until ten o'clock, when Forrest arrived with a four-pound gun, with which he opened on the gunboat and struck the pilot- house two glancing " licks."' Captain Marshall and I were both severely stunned, and just as soon as the captain could get his breath he ordered me to "sheer off," but when the second shot struck he scooped down the ladder and shouted back to me to take care of the boat. Observing that the farther out into the river we got the better range they had on us, I brought the boat in close to shore, where they could not depress their artil- lery sufficiently to hit us. The rebel sharpshooters had by this time cleared the upper deck, and I was the only person able to see what was going on. Captain Marshall ordered me to direct the firing, which I did quite successfully, silencing the rebel battery. About twelve o'clock, Forrest sent a flag of truce to the fort, which I reported to Captain Marshall, who ordered me to come to anchor. I ran the boat within speaking distance of the fort and anchored. We had been there about forty-five minutes when the flag returned to the rebel lines. During this time about two hundred rebels came down to the quartermaster's house and dressed themselves in Federal uniform, and then re- turned to their own line — all of which I reported to Captain Marshall, and insisted that he should open on them, for they were violating a truce that they themselves had asked for. But no; he would not do it; he said he was bound to respect a flag of truce. Another flag of truce was presently sent to the fort, and, at the same time the rebels— part in Federal uniform — got so close to the fort that it hid them from my sight. Im- 19 o28 CAMP AND FIELD. mediately after the flag had disappeared from my sight, the rebels came pouring over the works into the fort with a volley of musketry and a rebel yell, and Major Bradford immediately surrendered. The flag of the fort was taken down, by the rebels and firing ceased. In about three or four minutes the rebels rehoisted the flag and then a general slaughter ensued. Major Bradford, with all his living soldiers, ran down the blufl and jumped into the river and tried to swim to our boat, but the most of them were shot in the water and disappeared from view. Major Bradford, although the rebel bullets struck the water all about him, was not injured, and being assured by a rebel officer that if he would come ashore he would be treated as a prisoner of war, he did so. By this time the surgeon, the nurses, and the wounded had all been slaughtered at the hospital tent and the firing ceased. The gunboat was still lying at anchor, within four hundred yards of the fort, and in plain view of the artillery in it, with- out a possibility of being reached by the rebel four-pounder. Our armor was proof against musketry, and, as Ensign Charles E. Schetkey informed me, the boat had plenty of ammunition for several such fights left. Nevertheless, Captain Marshall ordered the boat gotten under way and headed up stream, and the order was promptly obeyed. The rebels thought to make short work of us, for as soon as we got in range of the guns in the fort, they fired three shots, all of which struck very close to us. As the rest of the ammunition for the guns was concealed in the bluff, where they could not find it, they were unable to con- tinue the fire. It was a narrow escape, for had the boat been crippled we should have become an easy prey to the merciless rebels. At that time, of all the troops that occupied the fort at the beginning of the battle. Major Bradford and Captain Young were the only ones alive! It was 4 p. M. when we left the fort, and we did not come to anchor until midnight, having made about thirty miles. On our way up we took the wife of Captain Young aboard. April 13, at 7 a. m., we started back for the fort, arriving at 10.30 a. M. We found Chalmers's brigade under a flag of truce — Forrest, with his force, having left immediately after the slaughter. Captain Young was permitted to come aboard on his parole to dine with his wife. He said Chalmers had told him that Major CAMP AND FIELD. 329 Bradford bad forfeited his parole, and if caught would suffer death. Captain Young, at the time, believed the report. I then accompanied a detachment of the crew which bad been detailed to bury our dead, and a horrible sight awaited us. The first body we found was the charred remains of the quar- termaster, lying in the burned wreck of the house, and on the bluff we fecund many dead Union soldiers who had been burned in their tents. We buried these and passed on to the fort. There we found tliat the rebels had stripped the dead and robbed them of valuables, and had thrown them into the ditch and partially covered them. After tarrying there we went under the bluff where the hospital tent had stood. There we found about seventy dead Federals. These men had been sent to the tent to have their wounds dressed. Imagine, if you can, our feelings while contemplating this horrible butchery. Major Bradford, we learned from a citizen, had been shot that morning in the latter's dooryard by the order of General Chalmers, because he commanded negro soldiers. He told us that the major had pleaded hard for mercy, claiming the priv- ileges of a prisoner of war and declaring that he had only done his duty as a soldier. But no mercy was shown, although he had surrendered with the understanding that he was to be treated as a prisoner of war. After the massacre the wife of Major Booth desired to recover his body, and a detachment of soldiers went up from Memphis to recover it for her. They found a grave under the bluff marked "Major Booth." but on opening it they found the body of a negro. Major Booth's body was never found. First Military Organization. Confederate General Killed. ■CfHE Ringgold Light Artillery, of V^BE first Confederate General killed Reading, Pa., claim to have been in the war was General Garnett, the first military organization to pre- killed at the battle of Rich Mountain pare for the war, and the first to tender in 1861. He is said to have been killed their services to General Scott for the by private John Manson, 16th Ohio In- defense'of the National Capital. fantry. ?-? GENERAL THOMAS; The Gunboat that Did Great Service at Decatur* G. NORTON, Essex, Vt. ►HEN the rebel General Hood started back for Nash- ville I commanded the gunboat " General Thomas," on the Tennessee river, and v^as stationed on the '*' first sixty miles above Decatur, where we had sup- plies for the army commanded by General Granger. I had on board some of General Thomas's scouts, whom I would land at dark with one of my officers, Cassius M. Booth, who volun- teered to help reconnoiter the rebel movements, so as to give General Thomas information of where Hood intended to cross the river. After a long week of sleepless nights our scouts brought the news that Hood was on the march down the river, and we soon heard the roar of his cannon attacking Decatur. I was lightening the ship to get over the shoal when dispatches arrived from General Thomas to go to Decatur as fast as possi- ble, and thanking me for information sent in the morning. As I had to land our coal, and (after we got over the shoal water) take on rails for fuel, it was 4 p. m. before we reached the bend four miles above Decatur, where we met an army transport, the captain of which told me that we could not go down there, for Hood's whole army was posted along the banks; in fact they commenced to fire on us as he was reporting to me. I simply said: '' Captain, I am ordered by General Thomas to go to Gen- eral Granger's assistance, and lam going. A^ou follow me!" I also said: " A man has one chance during life, and this is ours! " I ordered full steam, and told the engineer all depended on our clean heels, and down past Hood's army we went, close to the bank, at the rate of fifteen or twenty miles an hour, and we stirred up a nest of hornets. The whole bank was ablaze, but, flying past them so rapidly, they did not keep our range, and in about the time it takes to write it we were past all the rebels, heading up stream in front of General Grangers works. We soon silenced Hood's lower earthworks. I reported to General Granger on top of the large brick house, north of the town. The CAMP AND FIELD. 331 general said to me, '' Captain, if you had been sent from heaven you couldn't have come more opportune, for all my outer works are taken! '' While I was at General Granger s side one of his aides reported that the enemy had ceased firing, and seemed to be moving down the river. Hood says in his report that " the enemy having at 1 p. m. received re-enforcements of his gun- boats, I deemed it would cost too dearly to force a crossing at this point." Our prompt action saved our valuable stores from falling into the enemy's hands. Those stores were just what the Johnnies needed, for the poor fellows were in a sorry condition. We captured and paroled many a one of them when they came back after their failure at Nashville. They had awful long faces, and said, "But for your miserable gun- boats we would have whipped you."' After the fight all was quiet as we lay at anchor. We were expecting a good night's sleep, which we all needed, when, about 8 p. m., orders came from General Granger to proceed up the river four miles to Limestone creek, where it was reported the rebs were getting ready to cross the river. We weighed anchor and obeyed orders; found everything dark and still, — no sign of an enemy, — and I anchored close over under the thick underbrush on the north side of the river. All hands lay down by their guns. I was lying on my berth, when, about midnight, there came a volley of small arms, the balls rattling against the inch-iron like hail, and I sang out, " Give 'em the broadside," and the eight-inch guns, loaded with grape and canister, blazed away. The way those bushes rattled was a caution. When the report of our guns died away we could hear cavalry galloping down the river. What it all meant we could not tell, as we supposed no enemy had crossed the river. About an hour after the mystery was cleared up by the arrival of one of General Granger's staff officers, who said this cavalry had come in on the train after dark, and were ordered up the river to see what was going on. The country was new to them, and all sorts of stories being afloat of what had become of the rebs, of course they crept up carefully, and at last got the outlines of a black something on the water. Of course, our lights were all shut in with closed ports, so they took a shot at us. Tliey must have opened their e3^es when up went our ports, showing lights at quarters. Lucky for them they were so far astern before we fired, or somebody would have got hurt. FORAGING. -f An Interesting Trip After Rations in the Heart of South Carolina. 4- FRED REITZ, Company I, 21st Wisconsin. WILL tell of a foraging trip that about forty of us made while on our march through South Carolina. On the morning after we reached the Catawba river at Rocky Mount ford, four from every company were detailed, under command of a lieutenant, to go ahead foraging. We crossed the pontoon bridge and took the road leading towards Lancaster Court House which some of our squad took on their own hook, and we did not see them again for a week. The greater number remained Avith the lieutenant and we stopped the first night at a plantation belonging to some rich planter. The fine brick mansion had been burned, and the inmates were stopping at the house of the overseer. On the next morning we came to the home of Colonel Macllwain, formerly a captain in the United States Light Horse Dragoons, but then a colonel in the rebel army. Here we found a fine plantation with nice buildings, but nearly everything gone except some sweet potatoes and a little bacon; but we learned that all their valuables, such as clothing and jewelry, and also their smoked meat, had been buried. About noon, we saw a negro going across the land, and, in order to bring him in. shot at him. He soon came, and on being asked where the meat was buried, said he had been absent when it was done and did not know; but we did not believe him and made him agree to show us. He soon led the way into the woods, and showed us the spot, where we found a large box put into the ground, filled with hams and shoulders, which we carried to the house. There were with us a couple of Winnebago Indians, belonging to the 21st Wis., who had found a large sack of corn meal, a wagon, and two neck-yokes in the woods. CAMP AND FIT^.LD odvi We liitcho'l two yoke of cattle to the wagon, which we loaded up with our pnjvisions, and we proceeded on further to a little mill about a mile from Lancaster Court House. Here we found jjlenty of corn, and some of the boys went to work to imt the mill in running order, Comrade John King, of the 21st Wis., acting as miller. We got all the negroes to work shelling corn, and myself, being a tailor, made a number of sacks out of sheets brought to me by some of the boys. The mill ground very slow, being one of those one-horse concerns, and we staid two days, during which time we got about thirty bushels of meal. Another yoke of cattle was found and secured, making three yokes. On the second day some of the boys came back from a scout and brought twenty-two chickens and one goose, which were cleaned, and, being something of a cook, I boiled the chick- ens in a big soup kettle and baked Mrs. Goose in a bake kettle. General Kilpatrick was then at Lancaster with his cavalry, and being ready to proceed onward, sent us word to make for our commands. In the morning our lieutenant had left us for the purpose of finding out when our corps (the 14th) w^ould come up and on which road. In the afternoon we held a con- sultation with some of the mounted foraging parties, who had come after us and were also grinding corn, as to our remaining over night, and they agreed to remain, but afterwards changed their minds and left. I then insisted on our also leaving and making our way towards the main road to Cheraw, for which place I had learned that our corfjs was heading. Several of our squad were determined to stay another night, as we had a good time, plenty to eat, and a dry place to sleep. Our ser- geant, who had been left in command, was also inclined to stay inasmuch as he expected our lieutenant back, but I fjointed out the probability of getting captured by Wheeler's cavalry, who were near Lancaster — only a couple of miles away. The question now arose which way we should go, and as I had a piece of a map of South Carolina, I pointed out to the sergeant the road for us to take to strike the main road, on which our left wing was coming. Just about dark we started with our wagon, drawn by three yoke of cattle, with a rear guard. About twelve o'clock at night we came to a f)lantation, where we found some more of Sherman's bummers, and we concluded to stop for the night, and, after posting some pickets down the road, the rest of us went to bed — some in the house, some in 334 CAMP AND FIELDo the fence corners, others in the negro cabins. In the morning- we saw a small house standing a little way from the mansion, and found its occupant to be a rebel soldier — a young man with a verj^ pretty and young looking wife. She was the daughter of the planter. The rebel had been wounded in front of Peters- burg, and was home on a furlough. To show j^ou that even Sherman's bummers respected the soldier who was manfully fighting us in front, I will say that nothing had been disturbed around his little home; even his chickens were left untouched. I asked him and his pretty little wife if she would not cook us a nice dinner and spread the table. She replied that they had very little in the house to cook a good meal of. I had carried on my gun a ham to bring to my own squad in the company, but I went and got it, gave her some coffee, meal, sweet pota- toes, sugar, etc., and we had a very enjoyable dinner together, and when we left in the afternoon the young couple had a much better idea of Sherman's Yankees. The next morning our division, which had been delayed on account of the terribly bad roads, came along, under the command of General Carlin, and we took our places in our companies and our train joined the division train, having been gone from the command eight days. THE TREE OF DEATH. (Frovi the Athxiita Coiistitntiofi.) fN the New Hope battle field was a out and fire. Confederate sharpshooters tree upon which the soldiers nailed went along the Confederate line for the inscription, " Tree of Death." Sev- nearly a mile in each direction, and then era! Federals were killed behind the being so far from the side of the tree that tree by Confederate sharpshooters. The they could see behind it, by a cross firing tree was in advance of the Federalline, made it as dangerous to stand behind and was about three hundred yards the tree as to stand in front of it. Seven from the Confederate works. It was Federals were killed behind the tree, used by Federal skirndshers, who would and it came to be known as the " Tree stand behind it and load, and then step of Death." Rainbow Bluff, North Carolina. A REBEL COLONEL'S CRUEL DISAPPOINTMENT. By W. F>. DERBY, 2 7th Nlass. lECEMBER, 1864, an expedition left Plymouth, N. C, with Rainbow Bluff and Tarboro as its objective point. The force consisted of the 27th Mass., 9th N, J,, 17Gth Penn., detachments of the IGth Conn., 85th N. Y., 12th N. Y. Cavalry, 2d Mass. Heavy Artillery, and Battery A, 3d N. Y. Artillery, the latter armed with muskets. This last force under Captain Russell, was temporarily attached to the 27th Mass. , under Col. W. G. Bartholomew. This force under Col. Jones Frankle left Plymouth December 9th, and after several light engagements, reached the vicinity of Rainbow Bluff at midnight the 12th. At this point the enemy contested the advance so warmly that it was concluded they were present in force. It was decided to attempt to flank this force, and if possible get to their rear and capture them; and this work was assigned to the 9th N. J. and the 27th Mass. Regts. This work was quite to their taste; and after more than three years' service — much of the time in the same brigade — it is not too much to say that they had un- bounded confidence in each other. The night was bitter cold; the ground frozen and rough, and the water froze in the canteens. The moon threw a flood of light, requiring great care and secrecy to prevent discovery. The way lay to the right across wooded fields, some of the time through a deep dry ditch, then through a ravine shaded by overhanging cliffs to a stream over which the bridge had been destroyed. The stream was a roaring torrent, at flood height, but by the aid of floodwood and brush lodged against the pier a crossing was effected. As the column neared Fort Branch upon the bluff the sky became heavily clouded so that we passed it and reached the Hamilton road without opposition. 336 CAMP AM) FIKLI). As the column reached this road it was discovered by Colonel Hinton, commander of the post. Thinking we were re-enforce- ments Colonel Hinton mounted his horse and rode up to Cap- tain Russell, who was at the rear of the 27th, and accosted him, "Good morning, Captain I never so glad to see any one in my life; ■' then turning to the men said, " Had a pretty rough jaunt, hain't you, boys?" There was not enough of light to discern colors, but Captain Russell scented the fun and replied, "Good morning! colonel is just ahead and wants to see you/' Reach- ing Colonel Bartholomew, Hinton extended his hand saying, "Good morning, colonel! Justin time! There's fun ahead!'* Colonel Bartholomew had walked just far enough to particularly admire the gray steed before him, and besides, he had a con- siderable bump for good horses. He grasped Colonel Hinton's hand and the horse's bits most affectionately and responded, "Ah! Good morning! I'm awful glad to see you! You may get off that horse; you won't need it any longer, as you are my prisoner!" "Wha— what!'' exclaimed the astonished rebel officer. "What regiment are you?" "37th Mass.," was the prompt reply. "The d 1 you are! I thought you were the Weldon Junior Reserves," was the disconsolate rejoinder. We had it now; we not only had the commander, but the key to the position also; we would be the Weldon Junior Reserves. The 9th N. J. was at the front. Advancing to some log bar- racks a short distance ahead the sentinel was saluted, "Turn out the guard for the Junior Reserves." They came tumbling out, disgruntled by the disturbance, and without the firing of a gun were seized as prisoners. We were now in the rear of and near to the rebel intrenchments. Captain Huft}'-, of the 9th, was challenged by two sentinels, but he continued to advance saying in a drawling tone, "Come ah-n, boy-es; come ah-n! We uns are Weldon Reserves; they uns won't hurt we. Come ah-n!" and before the sentinels could decide what to do they too were prisoners. It was now reported that there was a body of troops approaching from the rear (it was the Junior Reserves), and Colonel Stewart, of the 9th N. J., who was in command of our force, deployed his troops, the 9th facing the approaching col- umn and the 27th Mass. in an opposite direction facing the intrenchments, and gave the order " Charge! " The Junior Re- serves broke in all directions before the impetuous charge of the Jersey boys and the Johnnies abandoned the works before the CAMP AND FIELD. 337 charge of the 27th and took to the woods and a cross road con- necting with the Tarboro road. It was expected that the force remaining under Colonel Frankle would occupy the intersec- tion on the Tarboi-o road, but this they failed to do, so that most of the enemy escaped. The result of this movement was the capture of Colonel Hinton and 138 prisoners with arms and equipments, and the destruction of their barracks. OUR SOLDIBRS' ORAVBS. MARY B. HOSMER. ftVVlNE lovely wreaths to deck the This be our Mecca, where our soldiers liouored graves rest '"'^^ Wlicre sleep the ashes of our Shield we from impious liands each iiol)le dead ; sacred mouud. Wreathe the dark laurel, green as ocean waves, i5ut not alone to him of high renown With reverence place them o'er each -"^hall pasans rise and words of praise patriot head. be given ; Bring brightest laurels for the dead " un- Briiig our loved ensign, o'er them let it known, ^g^yg AVhose i-ecords, lost to earth, are The dear " old flag," beneath whose '^'"'Si'* '" heaven. folds they fell ; r,., i • . ^ i • , , ,1 ,• ,• ., 1. 1 , J^'is solemn nunute-gun, the warriors J>ong may the nation live they died to , ,, ^ •' •' knell, For them is booming over land and sea. While o'er their graves the winds, that ^ ,, , .r, J- 1 • sjgb and swell, J or the dear sacrince so freely given mi • ,-. i r- , ,, , . ,, ^- , '■, M- , i heir soit and mourniul requiem Here let the nation bow itself and , ,, , save, Bright be their memory who died so well. weep shall be. Gently let fall tears, like dews of heaven, Rg.fc^ .^^j^^, patriots, in your narrow Water each mound where our brave l)eds patriots sleep. While all about you Nature's voices ring. Place a white tablet o'er each noble Far brigliter crowns await your noble breast, heads And let their glowing record there be Than the sweet tributes which we found ; hither bring. 338 CAMP AND FIELD The Crutch in thh Corner. [Written jiist after the war, by John McIntosh— " Old Vermont."] (^(^lOr^HY, Billy, your room is as r^^^'j^ cold as the hut ^>^i cj We had by the swamp and river, Where we lost our JNIajor, and Tim, you know, And sixty more with the fever." " Well, Tom, old fellow, it's hard enough. But the best at times knock under ; There's ne'er a stick of wood in the house But that crutch in the corner yonder! "Sorry T listed? Don't ask me that, Tom ; Tf the tlag was again in danger, I'd aim the gun with an aching stump At tlie foe, were he brother or stranger. But, I say, ought a wound from a shot or shell. Or a pistol bullet, by thunder ! Porever doom a poor fellow to want. With that crutch in the corner yonder? " That crutch, old comrade, ought ever to be ♦ A draft at sight on the Nation For honor, respect, and a friendly hand. For clothing, and quarters, and rations ! My wife — she begs at the Nugget House, Where the big-bugs live in splendor, And brag, o'er their wine, of the fights that brought Such as that in the corner yonder ! " And Charlie — he goes to some place up-town Some ticket-for-soup arrangement; All W'ell enough for a hungry boy. But, Tom, it'% effect is estrangement; I'd sooner have kicked the bucket twice o'er, By a shell or ;i round t('n-]tounder, Than live such a life as I'm doing now, With that crutch in the corner yonder. " There's ne'er a thing lefl to pawn or to sell, And the winter ha.s closed on labor; This medal is all that is left me now. With my pistols and trusty saber; And those, by the sunlight above us, Tom, No power from my trust shall sunder Save the One that releases me at last From that crutch in the corner yonder. "I can raise this arm that is left to me To the blessed heaven aViove us, And swear by the thi-one of the Father there, And the angels all, who love us. That the hand 1 lost and the hand T have Were never yet stained by plunder. And, for love of the dear old Hag, I now Use that crutch in the corner yonder. " Do I ask too much when I say we boys Who fought for the Nation's glory. Now that the danger is past and gone, In comfort should tell our story? How should we have fought when the mad shells screamed And shivered our ranks, I wonder. Had we known our lot would liave been to beg, With that crutch in the corner yonder? "There's little we hear of nowadays But pardon and reconstruction. While the soldier who fought and bled for both Is left to his own destruction. 'Twould be well, 1 think, in these nipping times. For those Congress fellows to ponder. And think of us boys who use such things As that crutch in the corner yonder." ©lr€^mgtrospect that we would be able to reach the Minnesota in the shallow water where she lay, our captain gave the order to return to Norfolk, where we immedi- ately went into dry dock for repairs. It was fully a month before we were ready to go out again, and meanwhile all sorts of reports were circulated among the Federals about us. It was claimed that we were afraid to show ourselves to fight, all of which we only laughed at, feeling that we should soon be able to give a good account of ourselves. I think that if the two vessels had again met we should have made short work of the Monitor. Every bit of our armor had been replaced by plates two inches thick, and we had also a large number of shot for the seven-inch guns in the form of bolts about two and one-half feet in length, pointed with steel, with which we intended to make certainly an impression upon the Monitor. Besides all these things we had organized a boarding party, which was divided into several sections. It was the plan for the proposed engagement that the Merri- mac should at once run alongside of the Monitor. We could easily do this, for our engines were more powerful than hers and we could make greater speed. Then one section of the boarding party would immediately put down gang planks, by which the men would speedily get on board the 370 CAMP AND FIELD Monitor, one section of them taking sledges and iron wedges to drive between the turret of the ship and her deck, so as to prevent it from revolving and pointing her gmis at us; another party was to run around the turret with a hawser made fast to our bow and which was to lie coiled upon deck ready for the emergency, and after the circuit had been made of the turret the plan was to fasten the other end of the hawser to the Merrimac and thus bind the two vessels together. While this was going on another party was to rush to the turret and every- where else that an opportunity was offered and pour oil down into the hold of the Monitor and then set fire to it. Another force was to be ready with large tarpaulins to extinguish the flames should the crew of the Monitor surrender and it be desired to save the vessel. But we were disappointed in all this, for when at last we were ready and steamed out of Norfolk we found that the Moni- tor was, with a number of other Federal vessels, under the shelter of the land fortifications. We felt ourselves a match for any or all of the vessels, but in no condition to stand the com- bined force of the fleet and the fortifications, so we withdrew. Then when Norfolk surrendered and there seemed no longer a chance for the Merrimac to be of service, she was blown up and destroyed. These are a few of the facts connected with that fight that have never before been published. First Federal Troops in Sayannah. Greatest Raid of the War. ]gr ENERAL GEARY'S division, the 2d, of the 20th Corps, was the first to enter the city of Savannah at the time of its capture by General Slierman, and General Geary was made military commander of the post. gf ENERAL STO NEMAN'S raid into Virginia, in December, 1864, and the destruction of the saltworks at Salt- ville, is said to have been the greatest raid of the war, and perhaps the great- est ever made in the world. ^Re: Battle of (floMoeacE^. JULY 9, 1864. GKNKRAIv EARLY DKFEATED. A Gallant SJtof.—A Hot Pursuit. LEADEN MISSILES OF DESTRUCTION FLY THICK AND FAST. A WONDERFUL ESCAPE. W. T. McDOUGLE, Contpany K, I'^dth O. V. I. ,ISr the evening- before the battle of Monocacy we landed at the Junction and camped near by. I was on the detail for ^^^ picket, and was placed in charge of the post on the Fred- erick City and Georgetown turnpike. During the night noth- ing occurred to disturb our peace. The morning dawned with a halo of sunshine and beauty. The birds never appeared to be so joyful. The large farm house on the hill to our left seemed almost a paradise, with its surroundings of horses, hogs, cattle, fowls, etc. These things, in the absence of our accustomed routine for the past two months, were to me most impressive. We could scarcely believe it possible that before the setting of the sun this beautiful place would be the scene of such deadly strife. At length the clouds began to gather. The refugees were coming in in great numbers — men, women, and children, old and young, black and white, all with their household ef- fects. Firing was heard in the direction of Harper's Ferry, and we were told by the refugees that the rebs were coming in great numbers. Nearer and nearer came the sound of the distant guns, till at length we heard the shrieks of the shells as they pierced the air. The enemy massed in our front, and were pre- paring for a charge. Their batteries having opened, we were greeted with a volley. A cannon ball struck the tree by which we were posted; another dropped a few' feet to our rear and went bounding across the valley like a schoolboy's rubber ball; another buried itself in the earth a few feet to our front. All was now commotion. The orderlies were galloping from place 372 CAMP AND FIELD. to place, the officers hurrying hither and thither with their com- mands. The pickets were ordered in. I found my regiment down on the right, near the river bridge. The regiment was immediately ordered to the left of the 1st Brigade, and near the picket post we had just vacated. An incident occurred on our way which I think will bear notice. The enemy, perceiving our move, brought their bat- teries to bear upon us. A high board fence was to be crossed. As I took hold of the top board I was crowded back by a more anx- ious comrade. As he swung himself over the fence his knap- sack was riddled with a grapeshot. Again I made the attempt, with the same success. But this time my predecessor, as he swung himself over the fence, was struck in the left arm above the elbow by a grapeshot, his arm falling by his side. I again made the attempt and cleared the fence, barely escaping a large cannon ball that struck the board from which I had just alighted. We found the enemy bearing down hard on the left of the 1st Brigade. They halted on a hill in our front. A large wash- out, with a stiff growth of weeds on its banks, extended up the hill. I was among the nine who crawled up in this to surprise the rebs, two of the number receiving severe wounds. Judge of my surprise when, in a short time, I discovered that the rebs had flanked us on the right and gobbled up the most of our reg- iment and held undisputed control of the field. I crawled on the bank, but could see no chance of escape. I had my gun loaded, but in the excitement it occurred to me that I could not surrender with a loaded gun. A rebel flag, surrounded by fif- teen or twenty of its followers, was on a knoll near by. The Confederates did not appear to notice me as I raised my gun and sent my best wishes into their midst. I then threw my gun and sat down. A prisoner! It was the most horrid thought that had ever entered my mind. Never before had I realized the blessings of liberty, and now I had a fair prospect of being sent to Anderson ville, Libby, or some other prison. I could not stand it, and springing to my feet and seizing my gun, I started for the North. They ordered me to halt, but without effect; they sent shot after shot after me, till the air appeared alive with missiles, but still without effect. One of them then undertook to run me down; but, after throwing away my knap- sack, in which were my diary and the picture of "the girl I left behind me," I managed to make good my escape. THE GREAT MINE ADVENTURE. TUNNELING UNDER A REBEL FORT. BY A. 3[EMBER OF THE 4Sth PENK. INEANTRF VOLS. lEUT.-COL. Henry C. Pleasants, of the 48th Penn. Regt., originated the expedient of a mine. The distance between our line and the nearest most important rebel force was over four hundred yards — too great to hope for success when the difficulties to be encountered in the way of quicksands, marshes, and discovery by the enemy were taken into consideration. Col. Henry C. Pleasants, how- ever, cherished the idea. The rebel fort loomed temptingly in front, and being a man of energy and practical experience in mining operations, and knowing that he would be ably sup- ported by his regiment, which was mostly composed of miners, he secured permission to commence operations. The work was commenced on the 25th of June, 18G-4, and with such secrecy was it conducted that for a long time the project was unknown even to those at whose side it was going on. Reports were in circulation, but nobody could speak with certainty of the mat- ter. One soldier, by whose side a ventilating shaft emerged, told his comrades in the most surprised ntianner that there were a lot of fellows under him "a doing something." He knew there was, for he could "hear 'em talk." To guard against any meeting of our soldiers with rebels, our pickets were or- dered to fire continually; hence the never-ending fusillade in front of the 0th Corps so incomprehensible to the other corps. The enemy suspected at first that the undermining was going on, but when several weeks elapsed their suspicions began to vanish, especially as their engineers thought the plan unfeasi- ble. The progress of the work was very slow, and it was not until the 25th of July, 1864, just one month after its inception, that it 374 CAMP AN1> FIELD. was completed. One of the most important points was to ascer- tain the exact distance and bearing of the rebel fort. Working under ground is literally working in the dark, but the distances were laid off upon the ground behind our works, and from these lines as bases, and with the angles formed by lines extending in the direction of the fort, a simple geometrical problem was formed, the solution of which gave the required distance. The different triangulations gave a result of five hundred and ten feet. The excavation was commenced in the side of the hill whereon our exterior line of works ran. The '* gallery" was about four and a half feet high, nearly as many feet wide at the bottom and two feet wide at the top. The usual army pick was not suited to the work, and this diflficulty was overcome by filing down the flukes to the size of the mining pick. Water was met not far from the entrance, and for a time gave no little trouble. The floor, however, was planked, and the sides and ceiling shored up, A quicksand was also met with, and to ob- viate it the range of the tunnel was curved upward, so that the latter half was several feet higher than at the entrance. It was easy from June 25 to July 25 to recognize a 48th man by his muddy boots. The earth, as fast as excavated, was con- veyed in cracker-boxes or half-barrels, to the mouth, where it was emptied into bags, which were afterwards used on the top of the breastworks. In this manner a suspicious accumulation of earth was avoided. The ventilation of the tunnel was effected by a shaft sunk to the side of the tunnel, at its junction with which a fire-place was built, with a grating opening into the gallery; one end of a series of tubes made of pine boards was inserted through the earth into this fire-place, where, as the air became rarefied and ascended, it created a " suction " or draft in the tubes connecting with the gallery. As fast as the tunnel progressed, additional tubing was jointed on, and fol- lowed the workmen step by step. The smoke from the fire could not be concealed; but, to withdraw attention from it, fires were kept burning at various points along the line. The light- ing of the tunnel was effected by placing candles or lanterns along the walls at a distance of ten feet apart. At length the end was reached, and the triangulation was verified by the noises heard overhead. The nailing of timber and planks could be distinctly heard, and left no doubt that the men were directly beneath the rebel fort. The enemy were CAMP AND FIELD. 375 evidently making a flooring for their artillery. As soon as it was apparent that the fort had been reached, the construction of the mine was commenced. The angle of the fort projected toward our lines, and under this angle the tunnel diverged into two galleries, each running, as near as could be ascertained, under each side. It was the intention that the mine should consist of eight magazines, placed at intervals along these branch galleries, so that the entire length of the fort might be blown up in place of one spot. The mines were eight in num- ber — four in either branch gallery. They were two by two, and the explosion resulted in four craters. The explosion of the magazines was effected through tubes of pine wood, six inches square, half filled with powder. They ran along the bottom of the tunnel, and entered the magazines through openings made for them. Between each pair of magazines and over the tubing was the "tamping" of sand bags and logs. The tubes extended only one hundred feet from the mine; thence they were connected with the mouth of the tunnel by fuses — the reg- ular " sure-fire" coal mining of Pennsylvania. The mine was charged on the 37th day of July, 18G4. The quantity of powder used was six tons! Think of it. Twelve thousand pounds! After thirty-two days and nights of constant toil the work was complete and only awaited the lighting of the fuse. First Men Arrested by Order of First Colors Planted at Chapin'8 War Department. Farm. JQANIEL FISH and Dr. Sabot, both jgAPT. CHARLES BLUCHER, 188th of New York, were the first men Penn. Regt., planted tlie first na- ai-rested in the North by order of the tional colors on the rebel fortifications War Department. This was on the in the charge of September 30, 186-i, at 24th of April, 1861. Chapin's Farm. HIGHEST MARINE RANK. First \t. Cavalry, Cedar Creek. ''Jp'HE rank of vice-admiral, conferred ^jVO regiment captured so nnich on a upon Farragut, was a higher rank single charge as was captured by than had ever before been known in this the 1st Vermont Cavalry at the battle country. of Cedar Creek, October 19, 1864. A HOT FIGHT. BATTLE OF PEACH TREE CREEK, BEFORE ATLANTA. JULY 19, 1864. MORITZ TSCHOEPE, Company C, 24th >A/'is. -.^^ FTER a whole series of battles, charges, skirmishings, etc., we arrived on the evening of the 19th of July, 1864, on the bank of Peach Tree creek, and occupied some old breastworks. To the right of our division camped the t^Oth Corps. Hooker in command of it. On the morning of the 30th we were aroused by artillery firing on our left. I saw a whole lot of soldiers standing on the breastwork, and I ran up too, to see what was up. A battery amused themselves by shelling the rebel picket- pits. At last, two pieces of that battery dashed out in full gal- lop on the road right in the rebel picket-line, limbered off right and left, and shelled the pits. I thought that was a great piece of braver3^ In the afternoon the bugles •'fall in," and shortly after we saw the corps advancing in line of battle — skir- mishers in front, artillery in the rear — in grand style. We crossed the bridge, formed line of battle, and advanced until we got in line with the 30th Corps. Om- division was more in the timber, while Hooker's corps was in open field. Soon our skirmishers, who had advanced through the woods, discovered Hood's armj^ massed for a grand attack. Skirmishing com- menced, and we went to work to build a kind of barricade. We did not need to wait long. Our skirmishers ran back, the rebel column after them. We received them in good shape. On came the enemy again and again, and I could not help admiring their bravery, but it was all in vain. They had to retreat with terrible loss. Two davs after they were more sue- CAMP AND FIELD. 377 cessful on our left wing, and had it not been for John A. Logan, the Atlanta campaign might have had a far different ending. We thought the fun was over, when, all of a sudden, a tremen- dous noise broke loose in our rear to the left. Our brigade adjutant ordered us back on our left flank, which was only covered by a skirmish line till clear l^ack to the bridge, and here the rebels were determined to break tlirough, cut us off from the bridge, and give us fits. We double-quicked back through a regular hail of shot and shell, and re-enforced that thin line behind a fence. On the road behind us, ambulances, wagons, and stragglers hurried to the rear. We put in the best we had, but I believe the rebels would have broken through if it had not been for a brass battery, which came on in a gallop, posted itself right behind us upon the road, and the boys, throwing off their jackets, rolled up their sleeves and labored with a will, firing over our heads. We repulsed every onslaught until the rest of our corps put in their appear- ance, when the battle ended. 43.»^ TO MY WI KB. B/ P. WHITNEY, 1st Mass. Cavalry. Written in Andersoiiville Prison, where lie soon afterward died. CARE not for the rising storm. My gentle wife, my darling wife ! T do not heed the cold, My soul's own joy and pride ! ^ Nor listen to the angry wind Ten thousand blessings on the day That roars around the wold ; When you became my bi-ide. I only know my journey's o'er, I've never known a weary hour For just ahead I .see Since I have held your hand — The light that tells my little wife I would not change my worldly lot Is waiting there for me. For any in the land. Oh ! sweetly from her loving lips. The blissful welcome falls ! There is no happiness for jne. Outside our humble walls. Ah ! sad indeed would be my heart, And dark the world would be, If not for this dear little wife, That ever waits for me. Kindness of Jlrs. Ann C. Whitney, Mitchell, Dak. Ol liSGAN At AriANtA. Gkneral IVIcPhkrson's death, '*WILL YOU HOLD THIS LINE WITH ME?" JULY 22, 1864. By A. O. S. ^v^^WXNW^-^NW^^V^WNWVvXWVNX X X. X. ^ -X. ^ X XwXWVWXNN'VsVXWXWVvWWXVCV ^^ "^-^^l: ^ 'URING the terrible slaughter amidst the 17th Corps, General Logan was en- gaged along his front with a heavy charging column of the enemy. While directing op- erations on his right, which had become extremely hazard- ous by the withdrawal of the 16th Corps, he received the sad intelligence of the death of his commanding officer, General McPherson, and the order from General Sherman to assume command of the Department of the Tennessee. With sad- dened heart and tearful eyes he heard the sad news, and, reading the order, bowed his head upon his breast for a mo- ment in deep thought. Then, looking up, he exclaimed, " Would to God I were better qualified to fill the place he so filled to perfection." Realizing the immense responsibility now resting upon him, he gave a hasty order to the general com- manding his immediate front, put his spurs to his gallant black steed, and rode rapidly towards the 17th Corps. Lying across the railroad was the 2d Division, 15th Corps, com- manded by Gen. Morgan L. Smith, one brigade of which, with the batteries of Captains De Grasse and Woods, held an advanced line. A heavy charge made on this advance line, captured the artillery and a good many of the men. The rest precipitated themselves upon the main line so suddenly as to seriously af- fect their morale, causing dire confusion, and a stampede. General Logan reined in his foaming steed so suddenly as to set him back on his CAMP AND FIELD. 379 haunches. Taking in the sit- uation at a glance and compre- hending the terrible result that would follow the break in the lines, he rode, with bared head, swiftly among that confused mass of soldiers. The super- human efforts of General Smith to halt his men had proved abortive, but now an- other character was in their midst — an idolized leader was there. Witness General Logan as he rides among them — hat in hand, hair blown back be- hind his ears by the wind, his long mustache standing out almost straight, those eagle eyes flashing like flames of living fire! Standing in his stirrups he presented a figure of determination and irresist- ible force that carried courage and new strength to every heart. That famous black stallion, his war-horse, was infused with the same spirit as his rider. "Halt!" he cries in stentorian tones. Riding up to a color bearer, he seizes the colors, and his voice peals forth, " Halt! are you cowards? Would you disgrace the proud name of the 15th Corps? Remember Mc- Pherson and avenge his death! Will you hold this line with me?" "Yes, yes, yes," came from all parts of the line, and back those panic-stricken men turned—panic-stricken no more, but a brave, determined force that under Logan could not be moved. Nor were they moved again that day, though assailed by fearful odds. The dead and wounded along their front and within their lines showed how brave and efficient men could be under a leader equal to the emergency. The dreadful car- nage soon ceased. The enemy were completely routed at all points. What was a well planned attack, and promised so much, had turned into a ter- rible, crushing defeat. The 2d Brigade, 1st Division, 16th Corps, were now brought over from their position, where they had met heavy losses, and put in battle order to charge the outer lines, which the enemy captured from Gen. M. L. Smith. Right gallantly they went to the charge, recapturing both lost batteries and a goodly number of prisoners. This charge ended the fighting for that day. The 14th Corps' Credit. First Union Officer Killed in the War. '*]r''HE 14th Corps was first in the fight before Buzzard's Roost, and wound up the Atlanta campaign at Jonesboro'. Jf lEUT. JOHN T. GRF:BLE,M'ho fell at Big Bethel, was the first Union officer killed in the war DEATH OF CAPTAIN GLENN, Followed by that of his Servant Mat, who Died from Grief at His Loss. BY E. T. B. GLENN. ^T<^^- TOUCHING incident in real life is afforded by the death of Capt. Chalmers Glenn, of Rockingham County, N. C. , and his faithful servant. Mat. Reared together from childhood. Mat had shared in all the boyish pranks and frol- ics of his master, and in later life had been his constant attendant and faithful servant. On the morning of the battle of Boonsboro', Captain Glenn called Mat to him and said: '"Mat, I shall be killed in this battle. See me buried, then go home and be to your mistress and my children all that you have ever been to me."' From behind a rock the faithful fel- low watched all day the form of his beloved master, as the tide of battle ebbed and flowed over that eventful field. At last he missed him, and, rush- ing forward, found the predic- tion too truly verified — life was already extinct. Assisted by two members of his com- pany, a grave was dug with bayonets, and soon the cold, silent earth held all that was dearest in life to Mat. Slowly and sadly he turned his face homeward and delivered all the messages and valuables with which his master had entrusted him. From that time it seemed his mission on earth was accomplished. Though con- stantly attending his masters children and promptly obedi- ent to the slightest word of his mistress, he visibly declined. Finally he was taken sick, and despite the best medical atten- tion and kindest nursing, he died February 4, 1863. Best Fought Battle of tlie War. Maryland's Brave and NoWe Step. g|.ENERAL THOMAS'S battle before Nashville was the best fought battle of the war, and the victory was the most complete of modern times. ^V^ARYLAND was the first state that ventured by immediate process to put an end at once to the institution of slavery. The 78tli Oljio at Battle of Bald llill. JULY 31 AXJ) 33, 1864. HOT Firing at Short rangk. stars and Stripes Captured and Retaken by Hand-to-Hand Fighting. W. S. AYRES, Company A, 78th 0. V. V. I. ■ANY of the G. A. R. boys remember the desperate struggle of the 78th at Bald Hill. At a critical point . ~ - of the fight our regiment changed front at the angle in company with the 30th and 30th 111., and we formed (Ai the left of the G8th Ohio, which had been away that mornmg from the brigade on detached duty, but had arrived during the early part of the fight, and had been stationed on the left of the fort, facing south, and had thrown up breastworks in the shape of a prolongation of the apron of the fort occupied by the 30th 111. We had just formed, with the 20th Ohio on our left and the noble old 4th Division on its left, when General Cleburne s division made those several assaults which were the forlorn hope of General Hood's plans, but which, thanks to a kind provi- dence, did not succeed. We were in an open field, about fifty yards from the woods, lying flat on the ground, when the John- nies came up with their accustomed yell. We waited unti they got within twenty yards of us before we opened fire; and when we did, such slaughter I never saw before or since. Their first fine was wiped out, but by the time we had sprung to our feet and reloaded, another line had come up. We opened on it, but it was soon re-enforced by a third line and closed in on us. We fixed bayonets and then and there we had it with clubbed muskets, fisticuffs, and wrestling. Once they got possession of our flag, but it was retaken by the most heroic fighting. Again, a big fellow got hold of the switch of the flag and tried to take Comrade Russ Bethel along with it, but Russ 382 CAMP AND FIELDo was not to be outdone that way, and jumping forward he landed on that fellow's jugular and sent him to grass in one round; and McBurney, of Co. H, ran him through with the bayonet, which was perfectly excusable in that kind of fighting. Still another rebel tried the same tactics, however, and, alas! poor Russ had got hit in the shoulder and could not now resort to the same defense. His disabled arm was slung in his waist-belt, and he was holding on to the staff with his other hand while Mr. Johnny was taking the flag and bearer right along when fortu- nately, Captain Orr, of Co. H, perceived the situation of affairs and rushed up to Mr. Rebel and gave him a crack over the head which disposed of him effectually. We succeeded in holding that line, but at a frightful cost. The morning report of our regiment on the 32d of July showed about three hundred men for duty. That of the 23d showed less than two hundred. ^^^s:^i-^\f^->'i' ■i—^^v AN UNFORTUNATE VICTIM. "dl^UT one man was executed in the Army of the Potomac up to Febru- ary, 1863, for a flagrant crime, and that was a case of attempted desertion to the enemy. First Coufedenate Arrested for Treason. President Lincoln and Hiram Wal- bridg'e. JJON. Hiram AValbridge, of New L York, was the first person to rec- onmiend to President Lincohi the im- portance of securing Beaufort and Port Royal, S. C. First Confederate Gun at Bull Run. "♦DPHE first arrest for treason by the '•DjP'HE first Confederate gun fired at Confederates was tlaat of J. W. the battle of Bull Run, in 1861, Merriam, collector of the port of was fired by Lieut. George S. Davidson, Georgetown, S. C, January 7, 1861. of Latham's battery. CAMP AND FIT^LD. 383 CONIPANY K. By J. W TEMPLE, Victoria, II!. AY up in the North, where the giant pines stand, 7r~^^Jr^ Tall sentries of Time set on guard o'er the land Ere the Genoese sailor, Columbus, was born, Or Magellan had made his first trip round the Horn, In the land of the hills, where the breeze from the sea And the breath of the pines fill the lungs of the free, When the echoes from Sumter had scarce died away, Those hills saw the nuister of Company K. Wouldst know, curious reader, of what stuff 'twas made? Odd sort of war timber you'll think, I'm afraid ! Its captain, a deacon, mild-mannered and pure. Esteemed by his neighbors, beloved by the poor ; Two stout young lieutenants, brought up on their farms, Untutored in tactics, and war's stern alarms ; But who " guessed if square fightin' e'er came in their way, They could git along somehow with Company K ! " For " the boys " were their neighbors, their schoolmates of yore. From the plow and the anvil, the work- sliop and store ; Broad of breast, stout of limb, full of frolic and fun. Skilled with axe, saw, and spade, — knew the use of a gun ; Thought that " mebbe them fellers " (so nuich talked about. Who bragged of the " Yanks they could chaw in a font," And what crack shots they were) might happen some day, To see " pooty fair shootin ' by Com- pany K " ! Ah, God only knows of the hearts well- nigh broken, When the home ties were snapped, and the brief farewells spoken, And the shrill fife but half drowned the sobbing that day, As the drum-beat marked time to the marching away. And the boys noticed then what they ne'er saw again, 'Mid the shrieking of shells or the bul- lets' fierce rain, (Though he led every charge, and braved death in each fray,) A pale cheek on the captain of Com- pany K ! Frank reader, confess you'd be bored, should I tell All the haps and mishaps to their fort- unes that fell. 'Tis said though, that once, in a world- famous fight, Where the rebel works crowaied every hillock and height. When the order was given to charge, in the face Of the death shower poured through the brush-tangled space. The captain made pause just one mo- ment to pray, But the first o'er the breastworks was Company K ! 384 CAMP AND FIELD. There came, too, a crisis, — you've read Ah, needless to tell to my comi-ades in it, no doubt, — blue. When the rebels had flanked us and Who served the tried Nation's long life- put us to rout, struggle through, When one veteran chief, like a rock in How^ deep was their grief vfhen a shell the main, tore away Braved the fierce tide of battle that From their ranks the loved captain of raged o'er the plain ; Company K ! Checked the foe, saved an army, and gave one name more How gentle those powder-grimed hands To the bright roll of heroes evolved by as they bore the wai-, — The captain, all mangled and covered 'Mid the proud Spartan band who stood with gore, firm on that day To the rear ; how they questioned the With their dead piled around them surgeon, to know stood Company K ! If hope had yet fled — if " the captain must go ! " When " duty " was done, and the battle How breathless they watched, as in had sped, tears they stood by. How the good deacon-captain would To catch his last words : " For my grieve o'er his dead ! country I die ! How he'd tenderly watch with the God help my poor wife ! Boys, I'm sink- wounded, and stay ing away ! In the hospital wards with his sick, Good-by, and my blessing on Company night and day. K ! " And when, in reward for his courage and skill. Long years have rolled by" since that Promotion and honors awaited his will, sorrowful scene ; He sent " thanks to the gin'ral, but The graves of our martyrs are hid 'neath guessed he'd best stay the green. With the boys, and be capting of Com- The country they died for we lived on to pany K " I see Triumphant o'er treason, united, and And " the boys " — bless your soul, they free ! , just worshiped their " pap " ! Let us hope that the brave who to battle When the "old man" said "Come, went forth boys ! " 'twas " Here's with you. Are enshrined in the warm, grateful Cap ! " hearts of the North ; No lagging, no shirking, no " playing it And that memory holds 'mong her fine," treasures to-day When their ears caught his quiet, " Boys, Proud legends of many a " Company fall into line 1 " K " ! Women in the War. INVALUABLE SERVICES IN THE TIME OF NEED. Woman's Help in the Home, the Hospital, and Upon the Battle Field. MRS. HELEN N. PACKARD. I'-^J^*! '■''■i^/:!'''Kl{ >V. SELFRIDGE. 4(!th Penii. Regiment. o'clock of our out, as |UR 1st Brigade, 1st Di- 3\2^ vision 13tli Army Corps, wearing the ""red star,"' was at the extreme right of the corps, on a line nearly parallel with the plank road, in the woods, not far from the open plaza which surrounded the Chancellor House, and was pro- tected by strong breastworks erected on the morning of the 2d of May. En echelon with our right, was the 11th Army Corps. About four we were ordered out works, and, as soon were under a heavy artillery fire and the target for many invisible sharpshooters. We were awaiting orders to ad- vance, scarcely having re- turned the fire of the unseen infantry, when an aide of Gen. A. S. Williams rode up and said to Gen. Joseph Knipe. our brigade commander: "The general's compliments and he orders that you get your bri- gade back to the works you left as quickly as possible." The colonels ordered each com- pany commander to take his ■h^^m^ command into the works he built '"by the right of com- pany, to the rear into column, double quick." During this time we heard a racket on our right, which turned out to be Jackson's famous charge upon the 11th Corps. I gave the order at once, and got the start of the rest of the brigade. When we reached the opening in our works, we came in con- tact with an irregular column of Confederates running from a direction diagonally opposite to us, and from where the 11th Corps was supposed to be. 406 CAMP AND FIELD. The Confederates we took to be prisoners captured by the 11th Corps, or a body of them coming in to give themselves up, and we cheered them lus- tily. How they regarded us is difficult to conjecture, as they neither hindered nor mo- lested us. Probably they had gobbled so many '• blue coats"' with so little trouble that they deemed us already their game. However, bent upon obeying orders, we pushed forward un- til we came to the line built by us and halted about thirty or forty feet from the works. The next moment the enemy arose on the other side of our works, with guns at an aim, and a long haired individual yelled: " Surrender, ye Yankee ! " Major Strauss drew his revolver and fired and then we caught it. The major and my 1st sergeant fell on either side, and those who could broke to the rear. The plank road was only two or three hundred yards back of the line and there I rallied what was left of company H. While so engaged Gen. H. W. Slocum, corps commander, rode up and I informed him that our works were occupied by the enemy. He seemed amazed and saying little or nothing, returned. Two brass Napoleon guns gave notice that they proposed to sweep that plank road, and we moved out of range, in the direction of the shanty, in close proximity to which Stonewall Jackson received his death wound two hours afterwards. It had now grown nearly dark. General Knipe rode up and wanted to know why I was not where I had been ordered. I gave him excellent reasons but he raved, and in language more forcible than polite, said he knew better, and went in. He did not go far, or stay long when he got there. We heard a volley and he came out faster than he went in, nor did he stop to ex- plain as he hurried by minus his hat. I then told my men to crawl cautiously in and get the major out if possible, as I did not believe the enemy were this side of the works. We were successful in this effort. We then fell back on a line with the shanty, and I made my way down the plank road to see how things looked. At the edge of the wood on the road were two pieces of artil- lery and a heavy line of battle of General Berry's command. An officer of his staff heard my report and ordered me to feel forward along the plank road to discover the location of their skirmishers. We ad- vanced but a. few yards when we heard voices and saw the dim outline of horsemen, rid- CAMP AND FIELD, 407 ing about. One of my men said it was too good a chance to shoot at a staff of officers to let it slip, and fired. The rest of my men instantly blazed away at them. Then followed a volley from beyond the horse- men and from the line of our works occupied by the enemy on our left, besides also an un- pleasant firing from some of our men in the rear. An un- usual commotion was noticed in the direction of the shanty, but we dared not fire as it brought upon us a fire from all directions. It was in this first fire that we believed General Jackson received his mortal wound. My men always main- tained that they dropped some of the officers off their horses. The fire from the Confederate troops, which followed ouis, may have done it; the fire over us, from our troops at the rear, may have done it, but not likely, as they were almost too far off. As my little band of skirmishers opened the affair near the spot designated by some of those who were with General Jackson at the time he fell, and as we saw and heard as plainly as the dark- ness and circumstances would permit what we had done, and had talked of the "big guns" we brought down that night in the woods near the shanty long before we knew the loca- tion of Jackson's wounding, we think that among others that we put Jiors de combat that night was "Stonewall" Jackson. Gallantry of General Grover's Division. First and Only Female Mnstered Into Service. JF wounds are a test of gallantry, the 'On'HE only female ever mustered in history of the war cannot excel the and out of tlie United States service glory of Grover's division of the 1st as a woman was Katy C. Brownell — the Corps in the fight at Winchester, Sep- heroine of New-Berne, and wife of tember 19, 1864. Every fourth man in Robert S. Brownell, of the 1st, after- the division was killed of wounded. wards the 5th R. I. Regt. First Federal Troops Raised in Tennessee. Col. P. T. Moore. First Confederate Officer Wo'duded. 'Cjp'HE first Federal troops raised in Middle Tennessee were raised by Gen. A. C. Gilleni, who later in the war defeated and killed the guerrilla John Morgan. ^HE first officer wounded on the Southern side at the first battle of Bull Run, was Col. P. T. Moore, of the 1st Va. Regt. He died in February, 1883. PLA,r^K!J^G ?^TLiA,r^T^. HOW WE MANEUVERED HOOD OUT OF HIS STRONG HOLD BY CUTTING HIS LINE OF SUPPLY. BY W. F. HINMAN. 65th OHIO. ^^^'^'^^^^'^''^^'^^ 'URING the latter part of July, 1864, Sherman's army fastened its tenacious grip — a grip that never let go — upon the city of Atlanta. For eleven weeks we had been "inching along," down from Chattanooga, skir- mishing, fighting, flanking, bivouacking and picketing, looking only forward and always driving or maneuvering the enemy out of his chosen positions. Every day we heard the whistle of bullets and the scream of shell. Every day brave men were killed on the skirmish line, in the trenches, or amid the roar of battle. On the 20th, 21st and 22nd of July the Union army closed in upon the doomed city. It paid a high price for the advantage it gained, for thousands were killed or mangled in the Lattle of Peach Tree Creek and in that mighty grapple between Hood and the Army of the Tennessee, in which fell the knightl^^McPherson. But, as Rosecrans said at Stone River, "brave men must be killed in battle." With tender hands and tearful eyes the soldiers buried their dead, sent their wounded to the rear, and with dauntless courage looked into the muzzles of the cannon that blazed defiance from the intrenchments around Atlanta. For nearly six weeks we lay behind our strongly fortified lines. At last we had struck "something solid," but every man in that army had an abiding faith that sooner or later "Uncle Billy" would "git thar, Eli." We dug "gopher holes," into which we crawled for protection whenever the rebel artillery began to heave over their surplus iron. We had our regular "tricks" of duty, by day and night, on the picket line. At many points this CAMP AND FIELD. 409 was so close to that of the enemy as to make it decidedly un- healthy. The pickets were changed at night, to avoid the bullets of the "Johnnies." The latter had no better liking for the mis- siles of the "Yanks," and did the same thing. At length Sherman got tired of sitting idly before Atlanta. He wanted the city, and wanted it "bad." It was the goal of the long and bloody campaign. He determined not to sacrifice his army b}^ assaulting the strong defenses, crowned with cannon and bristling with bayonets — and we were all mighty glad of it. We began to expect a grand flank movement and it came. Late in August the word was given one evening to "fall in" with all our belongings on our backs ready to march. Orders were fil- tered down from headquarters, through the company officers, to do everything as quietly as possible. There must be none of the yelling that usually gave a zest to whatever the boys were called upon to do. Of course we did not know "what was up," but we had long since learned to do as we were told and ask no ques- tions. So we filled our haversacks with all the "hard-tack and sow-belly" they would hold, buckled on our accouterments, rolled up our blankets and "pup " tents, threw them over our shoulders and formed on the color line. Of course after we were all ready we had to wait for hours before the order came to "pull out " — it was always so. We lay around, talking in whispers, ready to spring at the word. It was nearly midnight when we got away. All night we stum- bled through the woods, over stumps and stones, every man fol- lowing his file leader and wondering what the day would bring forth. In that forest full of brush and brambles, it was literally as dark as the proverbial "stack of black cats." We pushed on at a rattling gait. It was evident that we were going some- where, and every soldier knew, without being told, that we were flanking Atlanta. On and on we tramped, and soon after daylight, some fifteen or twenty miles below the city, we struck the railroad which was the chief avenue of supply for the rebel army in Atlanta. Sol- dierly instinct told us at once what the job was that "Uncle Billy" had laid out for vis to do. The regiments and brigades of the Fourth corps — the operations of which I am narrating — were drawn up near and parallel with the railroad, the line stretching away for two or three miles. The cavalry was stationed to do picket duty. Batteries were placed in position and the guns un- limbered ready for duty. "Stack — Arms !" Unsling — Knapsacks I" "Break ranks — March !" 410 CAMP AND FJivLD. These orders were quickly given to the "walk soldiers." Sledges, crowbars, picks and other implements that could be used in the work of destruction were distributed and we were just told to "go in." The boys did go, attacking the railroad with the utmost alacrity. Man}^ a time we had our "cracker line " cut by the Johnnies and this was the first opportunity' ever presented for tis to get even. Language can but fainth' describe the scene that ensued. The day was hot, and under the scorching sun the sweating and dust-begrimed soldiers pounded and pried and lifted, tearing up the rails and pulling the ties from the ground. Others w^ere engaged in collecting dry brush and rails and lighting a long row of fires. The ties were piled upon the fires and across each a dozen rails were laid. Merrily the men poked and fed the roaring fires until the ties were destroyed and the rails w^ere red hot in the middle. The latter were lifted off b\^ strong arms and were quickly put into such condition as to be utterly useless for a railroad. Some, by means of claw bars, were twisted and doubled up like doughnuts. Others were bent around trees and were left to cool. The boys w^ere in high spirits and laughed and yelled and sang and jested with infinite enjoyment. The officers, of course, did the heavy standing around and bossing the job, while the men did the work — and they did it well. As soon as a brigade had finished the w-rccking in its front, the men "fell in" and moved dow^n the road to renew the attack at another point. All day the work of destruction continued. At night the road foV miles and miles was a smoking ruin. The men w^ere thoroughly exhausted, for the}' had marched all the previous night without sleep ; but they were happy, and as they prepared their frugal suppers around the gleaming bivouac fires, they filled the air with their shouts. That night the Confederates burned and blew up everything they could not take away and evacuated Atlanta. Then how the soldiers j-elled ! After four months of fighting and marching the great campaign was ended — the goal was won. When the army started from Chattanooga, early in Ma}', the boys knew they would take Atlanta, just because Tecumseh Sherman said they would. Their faith in their leader was some- thing sublime. Patiently and uncomplainingly the}' did what- ever he told them to do with never a doubt of the result. The boys knew Sherman as far as they could see him by the high, white standing shirt collar that he always wore. Whenever he rode along the line or upon the flanks of a marching column, he was greeted with yells and shouts that Avere the best possible index to the feeling that existed toward him in the ranks of his dauntless and imconquerable army. BATTLE OF ALLATOONA. OCTOBER 5, 1864. Sherman's Burning Words: ''HOLD THE FOUT!'* General Corse tells General French He is Ready for the "Unnecessary Effusion of Blood" at any Time. J J. ^A/■HITNE"y, M. D., Assistant Surgeon, 18th "Wis. US in force. |UR garrison consisted of 1,100 men. We had the 4th Minn, and 18th Wis., together with a part of the Gth Wis. Battery, all under the command of Colonel Tourtellotte, of the 4th Minn. Hood had made his desperate flank movement. He well knew that we were guarding the main depot of supplies for Sherman's grand army. Allatoona Pass was the key to Sherman's position, and we knew that we held it. The enemy was now upon He had destroyed the railroad between us and Sherman's pursuing columns; he had stormed with shot and shell our block-house, and had taken prisoners over one hun- dred of its brave defenders. And now he was ready for us. General Corse, with nine hundred men, had been ordered down from Rome to our relief. Late in the evening of October 4, 18G4, our pickets were driven in, and we were apprised of the near approach of the enemy. It was midnight. The rumbling of cars, the puffing of engines, the neighing of horses and braying of mules, all told us of the arrival of General Corse. I remember that we now felt very confident, for General Corse was in command. It is true that our forts were badly located, for the hills to the west and north of us were so much higher that tlicy looked down upon us. All night long our command was busy in silent preparation. At daylight, October 5, on looking across the bottom lands south of us, we could see the enemy planting his batteries. 412 CAMP AND FIELD. About eight o'clock he opened lire, tlirowing shells into and about our main fort, which was on the west side of the pass. "We laughed at this futile bombardment. Soon the cannonading ceased, and an officer from General French came under a flag of truce. The writer happened to hear what was said both by General Corse and the rebel officer. After saluting the general the latter handed him a paper from General French, which read about as follows: "General: I now have you surrounded. My force is far superior to yours. To prevent the unnecessary effusion of blood I summon you to sur- render immediately." General Corse coolly and firmly said: " Say to General French that I will not surrender, and that he can begin the unnecessary effusion of blood whenever he pleases." The aide returned, and within ten minutes the gray columns were seen marching up and over the hills by the left flank, until they reached the railroad to the north of us. We knew the battle would now begin. The enemy soon let us know what he meant by his unearthly yells and the murderous rattle of his musketry. He charged on our thin lines and carried them by the weight and momen- tum of numbers. He rushed over our slim defenses, treading down our men in the trenches and fairly kicking them in the face. One after another of our outposts were driven in. Officers came dashing to General Corse saying: " "We have lost our position; we cannot hold our posts against such numbers! We are already all cut to pieces!" Not many minutes elapsed before the enemy were seen rallying for a grand charge on our interior defenses and the fort itself. General Sherman was on Lookout Mountain, away northward fifteen miles. Signal flags were continually waving, up and down, to the right and left, carrying the burning words of Sherman, "Hold on! Hold the fort! Never give up! " The other returning: " We never will — we cannot surrender. I am short an ear and part of a cheek bone, but all h— 1 can't whip us." General Corse was every- where—walking around outside and on top of the parapets- going through the embrasures — everywhere speaking words of assurance and plucky defiance. "It is hot, boys, but remember Vicksburg! We shall not surrender!" The Avriter was stand- ing near the general when he was about to again mount the parapets. A ball struck him (Corse) and he fell backward bleeding. Soon the word passed that our general was wounded. CAMP AND FIELD. • 413 Surrender seemed now inevitable, but only while the general lay there fainting. A surgeon gave him a little stimulant and a handkerchief wet with spirits was placed around his torn tem- ple and ear, and he rallied from the swoon and arose to his feet. "H — land d n! who talks of surrender?" said he. "We shall never surrender! We will die right here, every man of us, rather than give up! " Again hope reigned. The general placed Henry rifles in the trenches and under the parapets, ready for hand-to-hand fighting. We were none too soon, for the oppos- ing forces mingled in a bayonet charge and our men were all driven into the fort. Here hand-to-hand they fought, and the enemy encountered the Henry rifles. Down the embankments they fell into the trenches. Once more they were repulsed. Our little fort, the area of which was about 6,000 square feet, was full and crowded with dead and wounded. Our guns were all silenced from rapid flring. Colonel Tourtellotte was badly wounded, and could not fight any more. It was noon, and we still held the fort. We had not yet won, for General French had come upon us with 7,000 veterans — the flower of Stewart's corps — of Hood's army, and still had reserves. But he knew that Sherman was near. He must rally once more for one last grand charge — one greater and better than any or all before; for this one must succeed, this must determine the fate of our post. The doom of General Corse and his army seemed sealed. Our batterymen were all slain or wounded, but we had plucky infantrymen left. We were out of ammunition, too! What shall be done? Captain Bruner, of Co. K, IStli Wis., solves the problem. He crawls over the walls of the fort, crosses the deep cut on a foot bridge to the other fort, secures his grape and canister, brings it to us upon his back, all the time under heavy fire from the enemy. Now our big gun is once more swabbed and loaded with grape and canister, and by the hands of the brave Captain Bruner. He was then only a boy, but he showed the pluck and heart of a lion. Now the Confederates were ready. Their fixing of bayonets, the swift double-quick rally- ing behind the old house, told us that perchance our fate hung on this final charge. But Bruner's gun was now wheeled into the embrasure where so many brave battery boys had gone down, and he poured the grape and canister through and through that old house! What a sight! The rebels were seized with a panic. They could not 414 CAMP AND FIELD, be rallied, and rushed over the hills amid a last volley from our rifles. Our men almost cried for joy, for the battle was vv^on. And now came the sad work of the surgeons. We were but few in number, but our labor was fearfully great. Two hmnane Confederate surgeons were left with us, and together side by side for six days and nights we labored I We did what we could to alleviate the havoc of war. Amid the silent gloom of the morning, while looking on our dead, there was joy for us, for General Sherman came up, giving us a hearty greeting. All know his congratulatory order. To me they are the finest words he ever uttered or wrote. Our commander appreciated the work we had done. General Hood did not replenish his commissariat, neither did General Sherman lose his 1,500,000 rations, for did he not immediately go on his grand march to the sea? T:^he Sentry's Challenoe. [These verses are part of a long poem written by Capt. J. Lee Knigbt, and read at the Topeka Celebration of General Grant's Birthday.] J /^ALT ! who goes there? rK A friend— ^ He leads the serried hosts, Their ranks reforming ! Their chilled and fluttering hearts With Hope's new fires rewarming. Pass, friend — The Lord hath answered prayer. Halt ! who goes there ? A friend — The victor, laurel ci'owned — To home and peace returning. No more of war nor strife, Nor gleaming camp fires burning ! Pass, friend — Great blessings many share. Halt ! who goes there ? A friend — Behold ! once more he comes, A. chieftain's mantle wearino;! The Nation's loving voice Sends greeting to the daring — Pass, friend — Thy mission hath been rare. Halt ! who goes there ? A friend — Life's mission rounded out, In meed of fame and glory Thy cup of honors full, The world takes up thy story ! Pass, friend — Love's blessings with thee bear. Halt ! who goes there? A friend — A bent form racked with pain, A broken heart lies bleeding — While million prayers and tears For that loved life are pleading! Pass, friend — God keep thee in his car*. WAR G0RRESP0NBENTS. How They Fared, How They Worked, and What They Suffered. By WILLIAM M. BUNKEL, 1st Lieut. Battery H, 3d Penii. Artillery. f AR correspondents lead a particularly hard life, and the more so if attached to an unpopu- lar paper. How much injustice these men did can only be conjectured; how much benefit they gave to undeserving ones can best be ap- preciated by the men's actions in civil life. The New York Herald was the popular paper in the East; it would have twenty correspondents, captured or sent home, replaced within twenty-four hours. The Philadelphia Inquirer was the journal for the Middle States; the Cincinnati Gazette for the Middle-West, and the St. Louis Republican for the Southwest. The men representing these papers could do nearly as they pleased, but the others had to take it as they could find it. Their lot was bad indeed. I remember when advanc- ing up the Peninsula, that a correspondent who was on an unpopular paper was compelled to sit all night long beneath a baggage wagon during a most terrible storm and when there was plenty of room in many of the hospital tents in the immedi- ate vicinity. When there was no telegraphic communication it was in the interest of the paper to have some one in their employ who would carry the news by hand. At Fortress Monroe, in 1862, telegrapliic facilities were in the hands of the government; one could only send such messages as they would permit. The New York Herald, not to be outdone, organized a rapid transit of their own. A correspondent was stationed in Baltimore, then the stewards of the Old Colony Line of steamboats were hired to carry messages from Fortress Monroe to Baltimore; next was a correspondent at the "Fort" to forward matter as soon as possible. In this way considerable matter could be tel- i-U> CAMT WO in:i.iv oi^raphod from Ballimoiv ii tiio boat wore too late tor the train, it" on tinio. tho oonvspomlont sent a tnistod inosj^oiiiivr to Now York, thus saving an hour on tho mails. Tlio taoiUtios ot" those days wero not Avhat thiry are to-day, and ovory newspaper man well knows what an hour is worth in a well regulated news- paper otliee. In addition to tkese. every I'orps had one eor- respondent. or if short-handed one man sometimes had two or three eorps to attend to. All were under the orders of a eliief on the tield. and reported regularly every morning in the vieinity of Franklin's headqnarters. As an example, notiee the battle of Fair Oaks, and how the most mimite partienlars appeared in the Herald on the day but one following. Having been a newspaper man myself before the war broke ont 1 was able to appreeiate the wants and neeessities of these men; henee my quarters were always open to them. Sometimes T would entertain a half dozen of the brother --ehips" all at onee: at other times I would not see one of them for weeks. The Ihrald men were at my quarters when the first gm\ was tired at Fair Oaks. "There they go." was the ery. and immediately all was aetivity. Charles Farrell (^sinee dead) was the ehief on the tield at this time. In less time than it takes to write it. orders were issued for eaeh one of them to aeeompany sueh and sneh a eorps (it was astonishing how well they understood the position of eaeh eommand"), and in a twinkling all had mounted and were off. 1 suppose they knew where they "vvere to meet again, fen- 1 after- ward found them on the sontli bank of the Chiekahominy. in the rear of Heintzelman's headqnarters. All were assembled around a pile of eraeker boxes and as busy as nailers, writing the partienlars of the fight then going on. As eaeh man fin- ished, he passed his manuseript to Farrell. and. mounting, rode away again to some distant part of the tield. At the battle of Fair Oaks we had been driven baek about a mile the tirst day. but on tlie second day we gave them a little "Hail Columbia." and in turn drove them baek about half a mile from where our outside line was tirst established. It was a most terrible fight. On a wooded eminence, a short distance below where our first line had been established, two or three batteries of artillery were stationed by Heintzelman. One section of two pieces was drawn ont from the woods and placed in the clear cornfield bevond. CAMP ANfj FIELD. i-1 7 It was a dangerous position for a battery to be in without a support. The section had scarcely unlimbered when from the woods in their front there debouched Cheatham's Confederate brigade, who, in regimental front and four lines deep, came jjouring down upon the devoted section. " Fire with canister! " commanded the weak little voic^ of the young lieutenant, who commanded the section, and the Confederates .seemed to laugh at the two little six-x^junders opjiosing them. " Double-shot with canisterl " said tlie commander of the guns, and still the enemy came on and on, as if on parade. Not a musket was fired and the section kejjt booming away with terrible rajiidity. I had thought that the lieutenant and his section would turn tail to the foe, but he did not, but stood there and worked his guns w^ith the coolness of a veteran. All at once, with a yell, the enemy started on a double-quick, and in a moment more the section was captured and the lieutenant was a mangled corx»se. Now came the most terrible carnage I had ever seen. The capture of the section had greatly encouraged the foe and his lines swept on and uy the hill, until within about one hundred yards of the Union cannon. It was a magnificent sight. The lines had not broken yet, but kept onward as if marching for review. '• Fire! "' rang out from the woods, and a least a dozen cannon belched forth their storm of death. I can see it even now. Men in all the agonies of death piled like fence rails one upon another: their more fortunate comrades climbing over their mangled bodies to reach the guns. The magnificent lines of a moment before wavered, stood still, and then faded away, like snow before a summers sun. The charge was ended and but few, if any, lived to return. The field where the enemy had advanced was a slaughter pen, indeed. The dead and wounded lay in all directions, and not one of all the men who had advanced got back again. It was a gallant charge and a terrible re^julse, but to the noble lieuten- ant who had commanded the captured section, and who gave up his life to duty, was the credit of winning this battle due. The enemy lost about 1,500 men in killed, wounded, and prisoners. Our loss was 8 men killed and IG wounded. For two days I caught only fleeting glances of the corres^jond- ents. When all was over, Farrell came in with the papers of the day before. There were eight or nine columns of descrip- tion of the first day's fight, and in the next day's paper was an 418 CAMP AND FIELD account nearly as long of the second, day's battle. It was won- derful, wonderful to see an account of the battle, all the way from New York, back on the field in so short a time. An even- ing shortly afterward, while smoking with Farrell, I asked him how he had managed to know so much about the battle and how he had got it to the paper with such promptness. "You see," said he, " we have our best men here. Each man knows what to do and does it with the quickest possible dispatch." He then related how he arranged the manuscripts of each man, put it into shape, corrected it as far as he was able, and then rode to the White House, where he chartered a tugboat and went to Fortress Monroe; how he there telegraphed as much as the authorities would allow and gave his package to the Fortress Monroe correspondent, and within three or four hours had retaken the tugboat for the White House, It was a mystery to me and has been ever since I A fight taking place four or five hundred miles away and yet, without telegraphic communication, the full particulars are spread before the people at home on the day but one following the occurrence. » 9 • AN INTKRKSTING WAR RELIC. From the Rome Se7ttinel, Ga. SMALL laighland terrapin was That was twenty years ago. In 1886 yMJ^, captured in 1884 by a Chatta- when a party of ex-Union captives from nooga gentleman that carries on Ohio, who were making a tour of the the smootli surface of its belly the in- South, passed through Chattanooga, scription, carved in distinct characters : the terrapin was shown them and they " Union : Co. Iv, 'iOth Regt., Ohio Vols.; could not have shown more delight over November 18, 1864." It is supposed the meeting of an old friend. "He that some straggling Union soldier, be- was the pet of some of our boys," said longing to the command designated, one of the old soldiers, as he fondly captured the North Georgia quadruped patted the terrapin's back, while the and proceeded to make a living histor- tears filled his eyes and rolled down his ical tablet of the hard-shell little creeper, cheeks in great drops. SHERMAN AND JOHNSON. Col. Jackson's Grand Cavalry Charge. •^HE movements of the two armies of '*¥''HE charge of the 9th Ind. Cavalry, ■^ Sherman and Johnston during the led by Colonel Jackson, at the bat- Atlanta campaign, is one of the most tie of Franklin, Tenn., was absolutely interesting and unique in all military the grandest thing of the kind dm-ing liistorv- I the whole war. THE BATTLE OF RESACA. A Thousand Jets of Flame Blend into Roaring Artillery. By C. E. BENTON, 150th New York Regt. HE battles of Lookout Mountain and Mission- ary Ridge had been fought and won, and thousands of prisoners had passed us in long trains of freight cars. The 11th and 12th Corps had been consolidated and become the 30th Corps, Army of the Cumberland, under ^ command of Hooker, When the soft, warm days of spring came it was made known that we had marching orders, and there was great stir in camp. Even the mules, which had grown fat and dull, caught the ex- citement and brayed " Joe Hook-er, Hook-ei\ Hook-ev" at the top of their unmusical voices. The swelling buds were putting forth their leaves, and the woods were fragrant with flowers, as we marched out of camp and turned our faces southward. Steadily, day by day, we marched southward, climbed the steep mountain, traversed its broad summit, clambered down its rugged southern face, and followed narrow valleys and crooked water courses until we came to the Tennessee river at Bridgeport, Ala. There we turned east until we reached Look- out Mountain, which we passed by a road leading up its west- ern face and around the north end. Three miles northeast was Chattanooga; east was Missionary Ridge, southeast was the old battle field of Chickamauga, mostly level and wooded. The Tennessee river washes the foot of Lookout Mountain, and turns west by a crooked course through the mountains. We descended the mountain to where the battle of Chicka- mauga was fought the fall before. Soon we came to trees cut 420 CAMP AND FIEI IV, down by shell; nearly all of the trees were marked and torn by bullets and shells. Mounds of earth with the middle sunken in, showed where dozens of men had received scant burial. Here and there a foot protruded; or a hand with the skin dried to the bones was seen extended from a grave as if beckoning to us. Further on we came to numbers of bodies which had not been buried. Then we passed Chickamauga creek, where its wine-colored water flows between thickly-wooded banks. The name is said to be Indian, and signifies in their language, " River of Death." How did they know? Continuing southeast we confronted the enemy, and the roar- ing of cannon was heard in some direction every day. Between maneuvering and fighting, the enemy were forced or flanked out of every position until they were found intrenched at Resaca. There it was understood they expected to make a big fight. It was May 14 when we arrived and the crackling sound of firing on the skirmish line told that the two armies con- fronted each other. We were moved from place to place, but were not put in that day. At one place where we halted a body of men were digging graves. Not seeing any dead or wounded near, I inquired what they were doing, and was in- formed that ambulance corps had nothing to do, and as a heavy battle was expected, they were digging graves — for men not yet engaged in battle. Late in the afternoon the enemy at- tempted to take a battery at the left of our line, and the 1st Division, 20th Corps, was hurried in that direction. When we came near the firing, the division was formed on an elevated ridge, in line by brigades. The 3d Brigade, which was in front, passed down the slope into the open fields, and just as they did so the battery at our left opened fire. Looking beyond our line we saw the dusky line of Confederates advancing from the shelter of the woods and open fire. From our elevated position on the ridge we saw the whole action as plainly as if it had been a play on the stage. The slightly gathering gloom of twilight served to show the fire of their guns in bright flashes as they continued to advance. Our own line advanced a short distance in silence when suddenly there sprang from their front a thou- sand jets of flame. Thicker and faster grew the firing until the cracking of rifies blended into a roaring sound, accented by the heavy bass of the cannon. It lasted only a little while. The gray line was seen to waver, then scatter, and at last run back CAMP AND FIELD. 421 in confusion, followed steadily by our line until the ringing notes of the bugle called a halt. Then the ambulances drove over the ground. The dead and wounded were both removed, and in an hour's time the only signs of a conflict were a few dead horses. Sunday the battle raged furiously, but we were not called into action until noon, when we were moved toward the left of the line. This was a move to flank the enemy and at the same time the Confederate forces were moving in the same direction to flank us. At one point the enemy were running across the road only a little distance in front. There were strict orders not to fire a gun and they escaped unharmed. Soon after we passed what had been a Confederate field hospital. A few of their dead were there, and one lay on the operating table. He may have died during an operation or perhaps have been killed by a stray bullet. Finally, we were formed in line on a little rise of ground in open fields, and threw up a slight defense. Soon the long gray line was seen approaching with a firm and even front. Upon coming within range they opened fire, and con- tinued to fire as they advanced. But the fire was returned with such steady, level volleys that they fell in dozens, and finally retreated in disorder. As the smoke cleared away we could see them forming for a fresh attack. This time they were more persistent and got nearer to our line than before, but were driven back again, leaving the field strewed with their dead and wounded. Just at the turning point, part of our line made a dash at the enemy, and returned with some prisoners and one battle-flag. Thus the flanking movements which the two armies attempted at the same time, counteracted each other. But our troops held the line they had taken. As the hostilities ceased at that part of the field, the task of removing the wounded to the rear commenced. There were no stretchers at hand, and we used blankets and half-tents. When you start with a helpless soldier in a blanket he seems to weigh about one hundred pounds; after you have carried him half a mile you will think he weighs a ton, — especially if the course is in range of the enemy's batteries. We found where the sur- geon had established himself in a hollow in the woods, and there we deposited our burdens, and set to work under his orders. Attendants in fleld hospitals witness many pitiful scenes. Not as in general hospitals, here are sunburnt men ,422 TAMP AND FIELD. stricken suddenly in their full vigor. Here are the freshly torn muscles and dripping blood, and tragic death scenes, I remember a fine-looking, intelligent fellow, hardly twenty- one, who was mortally wounded. His frequent request was for water, and seeing that he could last but a few moments, I knelt by his side and at short intervals put a little in his mouth with a spoon. Finally his lips could not open to receive the water or even to speak the word, but the pleading look came into his eyes, and understanding it I dipped my finger in the water and moistened his lips. To my surprise, they parted in a sweet, pleasant smile. I glanced quickly, but saw that I was looking at the half closed windows of an empty tenement. That happy smile had spanned two shores. At another time there was a strong man of twenty-five, who sat or reclined on the ground. If you would see his exact posi- tion, look at the "• Dying Gladiator." He called frequently for the doctor, and an attendant pointed him out to the surgeon. He replied that he had examined the man and could do nothing, as he was bleeding to death. The attendant returned and spoke in a low tone to the dying man. Many fresh wounded men were being brought, and help was scarce, so the surgeon called the attendant. He sprang to his feet and left the dying soldier — alone. His regiment was at the front, and among the many within sound of his feeble voice he was an entire stranger. He occasionally raised his head and spoke weakly, but no one had time to give him attention. I noticed after a little that the pallor of death had spread over his strong features. He settled lower and lower, and finally sank back on the ground. There was a gurgling sound, slight convulsive motion of the limbs, and all was over. Night found us tired and fasting; hut with crackers and coffee, and a few hours' sleep, we arose at dawn to find that the enemy had retreated during the night. The battle was. won. The Stars and Stripes Over Savannah. KENTUCKY BRIGADE. :aii- fHE stars and stripes were first un- '•Y'lIE first Kentucky brigade orgs furled over the city of Savannah by ized by Gen. George II. Thomas Acting Master R. N. Morrill, of the was the first brigade of the Army of the gunboat Sonoma. Cumberland, and its nucleus. A ROMANCE OF THE WAR. -fA Tragedy at Gettysbnrg, Followed, after Many Years, by a Wedding, 4- ^S^OON after the battle of Gettysburg, the 7th Ind. Regt. was stationed near Waterford, Loudoun county. An «c:v^#c acquaintance sprang up between Lieutenant Holmes <^~l^^ of that regiment, and Miss Lizzie, daughter of John B. Button. The correspondence between the two, which ensued upon their separation, led to their betrothal. In an assault upon the Confederate works at Petersburg, the young lieutenant was killed. A few days later came a letter from his betrothed. A friend and comrade of the slain officer, Josepli M. Dunlap, knowing the relation between the two. returned the letter, at the same time apxjrising Miss Button of the fall of her lover. A letter of thanks from the young lady for the mournful attention paid her. gave occasion for the interchange of several more epistles. Mr. Bunlap was deeply impressed with the style of the letters, having previously seen and admired the writer. The tide of war rolled on until the torn battle-flags were furled at Appomattox. The correspondence ceased. Mr. Bunlap went to his home in Indiana and fulfilled a long standing engagement by marrying the daughter of a neighbor, but within a year or two this lady died. Mr. Bunlap went forth into the world a lone man. and in his travels found himself one day near the house of his former correspondent. A train of pleasant recollections followed. Was she married? No. A postal card opened the way to a renewed correspondence. A visit to the home of his corre- spondent followed. They talked of her dead lover, of his gal- lantry and manly bearing, and how he fell at the head of his men at the very point of the Confederate bayonets. Then they talked of something else, and matters flowed on so easily, smoothly, and naturally, that in a few weeks Mr. Bunlap found 424 CAMP AND FIELD. himself at his Indiana home busily engaged in preparing for the reception of a new mistress. And soon the little town of Waterford was all a blaze of light and a scene of general re- joicing, for the lady was popular and beloved by all. In the midst of a large assemblage the ceremony took place which united Miss Button and Mr. Dunlap in the bonds of matrimony. ■"4^' ••'^-' '>!v5>- 'ieF6ii^g §ig liyRj One of War's Strange Happening's in the Mine Run Campaign. BY WARREN WALTERS. i^N the morning of the 26th of November, General Gregg, in command of tlie 2d Division of Cavah-y. crossed the Rapidan at Ely's Ford. They advanced some miles and halted for the night at Whitehall. Early the fol- lowing morning. Colonel Tay- lor's brigade proceeded over the plank road toward Orange Court House, the 3d Penn. in advance. Two miles brought them face to face with a large body of the enemy, hidden in a dense wilderness. Colonel Taylor dismounted his advance and deployed them in line. He succeeded in driving back the enemy some distance to a park of strongly fortified ar- tillery. The general saw he could no longer force a retreat, for he felt confident that he was facing a heavy body of infantry. During a partial cessation of the fire, Colonel Taylor rode along the whole front hoping to obtain some idea of the character and num- ber of the foe. The dense undergrowth, however, pre- vented. A squadron of the 1st Mass.. commanded by Lieut, C. A. Longfellow, was engaged in this skirmish. Young Long- fellow joined the general in his endeavor to discern the char- acter of the force contesting their advance. A sharp volley was fired, directed evidently 428 CAMP AND FIELD. at the two officers. The gen- eral paid little heed to the whistling musketry until he heard some one cry, ' ' General, I'm shot! " Turning quickly the general made his way back and found the gallant young- officer, a bullet having passed clear through his body. Lift- ing him tenderly from the earth, the general hurriedly moved him to the rear, the life-blood marking every step of the way. General Taylor could not repress thoughts of the sorrow the wire must carry to tlie poet's home. The wound must prove fatal, for the ball had pierced one of the boy's lungs. Yet it could be but a moment's sigh, for in the next moment the general ordered a charge along his whole line. With a yell, the men pressed forward, eager to avenge the death of their young officer. The result of that onset was the capture of almost the entire force of the enemy. This scene had almost grown rusty in General Taylor's mind. He thought of Lieutenant Longfellow as a victim of the cruel war, and had described the young officer's death in " Fighting o'er his battles by the quiet hearth," The death of the great poet himself was flashed over the wires. Among the names of the children who gathered about the coffiii ap- peared the name of C. A. Long- fellow. It seemed incredible to General Taylor that he could be alive. A letter was dis- patched and until an answer should come all must be doubt. A letter came — brief, sad, and subdued, but the doubt is doubt no longer. C. A. Longfellow is no other than the Lieuten- ant Longfellow, shot down in a Virginia copse, April 27, 1863. v^/t) FIRST SHOT IN VIRGINIA. '•ip'HE first shot fired in Virginia was on the 7th of May, 1861, when the steamer " Yankee " was fired upon. It took place at a point contiguous to Yorktown on the Gloucester shore, and after the bombardment of Fort Sumter it was the first powder burnt in the war. Rapid Firing at Cedar Creek. ^T the battle of Cedar Creek, on the '^ 19th of October, 1864, the firing was the most constant and rapid ever heard on this continent, except at the battle of the Wilderness. Death of John A. Piatt. qp'IIE shot that killed John A. Piatt was tlie last rebel shot fired from the rebel works at Port Hudson. Destruction of the Albemarle. OCTOBER, 1864. THE MOST DARING NAVAL EXPLOIT OF THE WAR. "VV. p. DERBY, 27tU Ivlass. X the evening of October 27, 18G4. Lieut. W. B, Gushing, U. S. N., and a crew of thirteen men ascended the Roanoke river on a steam launch, te destroy the ram Albemarle, at Plymouth, N. A mile below the town the channel was obstructed by the wreck of the steamer Southfield, and by sunken schooners. A guard of twenty men at this point were captured without the firing of a gun. These were sent down the river, and about 3 a. m. the 28th, Gushing reached a posi- tion opposite the ram which he discovered to be fastened to a wharf and surrounded thirty feet distant by a line of logs firmly chained together. Gushing's launch was armed with a boom on which to suspend a torpedo and also with a howitzer. Keeping close to the river bank opposite the town and the ram —it was a low heavily wooded bank well adapted to shade his launch — he gained a point above sufficient to get the advantage of the current, when he turned, and when discovered by the enemy was bearing bow on to the ram. The enemy sprang their rattle, rang their bell, and commenced firing upon the launch. Lieutenant Gushing gave them two charges of can- ister and with full steam bore down with such speed as to break the log obstructions around the Albemarle. Lowering the boom of the launch with a torpedo attached, by a vigorous and dexterous push he forced it under the ram and exploded it. With the explosion came a dense fiood of water engulfing the deck, and also a plunging shot from the Albemarle, which crashed through the launch. While freeing himself from the log obstructions, the enemy opened a vigorous mus- ketry fire upon Gushing and his crew, and repeatedly demanded his surrender. Finding the launch fast sinking the brave lieu- 430 CAMP AND FIELD. tenant gave the order, "every man for himself/' threw off his coat and shoes, and, jumping overboard, swam for the opposite shore. The launch sank within fifteen feet of the Albemarle. The Union crew had followed the example of their gallant commander, but most of them were either captured or shot while in the water. Only Lieutenant Gushing and a colored sailor succeeded in reaching the opposite shore. They pene- trated some distance into the swamp and remained secreted until late in the afternoon. The enemy searched the swamp diligently during the early part of the day, and were several times in close proximity to the fugitives, but being buried to the neck in water the reeds and brush easily hid them from view. Late in the day, Lieutenant Gushing approached the river, and, to his great joy, found that the Albemarle was sunk, the smoke stack standing as a monument over its watery grave. With a light heart he made his way to Middle river (from a short distance above Plymouth the Roanoke flows in three channels to the sound). After a considerable search, a skiff was found and he reached the U. S. gunboat Valley Gity at the mouth of the river at 11 o'clock p. m. He was immediately taken to Gommander Macomb, and received hearty congratulations over his escape and the success of his advent- ure. This act of Lieut. W. B. Gushing was one of the most daring and creditable of the war, and resulted in the reoccupa- tion of Plymouth by the Union forces two days later. Lieutenant Gushing, at this time, was hardly twenty-one years of age. He was of slight figure, fair, with clear cut features, and a clear grayish-blue eye. His life was full of daring adventures, and when the war closed he was one of the heroes of the hour. He bore himself with great modesty, and died in 1874 honored of his country and lamented by all. SAVED BY GRANGER'S CORPS. JEFF. DAVIS NOMINATED. JX T the battle of Chickamauga the 'Wi^- George W. Bagby, a private in Co. ^ day was saved by a charge of A, 11th Va., said he was the very Granger's corps, Id by Col. G. M. L. first man to nominate Jeff Davis for Johnston of the 13tli liid. Cavalry. President of the Sonthern Confederacy. WAR'S HUMOROUS SIDE. A Whole Train of Soldiers Attacked by a Tipsy Colonel. Ludicrous Sxanipede. B-2- -XKr. SCOXT. 'UST before the battle of Gettysburg, a detachment of Confederates made a raid into the rich grazing fields of West Virginia, to secure cattle and ,c^ horses for Lee's army. They advanced >M^ towards Clarksburg, where General Roberts '^ was stationed, with about G,00() Federal troops. Tliey did not attempt to take Clarksburg; in fact, did not want to do it if it were possible. The Confederates simply desired to tear up the track of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad. One of the places which they intended to strike was West Union, a small village, twenty-two miles west of Clarksburg. West Union was gar- risoned by some state militia, called out to help "wipe out " the raiders, and they were commanded by a colonel who resided there. The colonel was in the habit of taking period- ical sprees, and, when in that condition, feared neither man or devil. He was informed of the intention of the raiders, and it happened that he was on a regular tear at the time. He girt his sword about him, swore he was not going to have his property taken, and that he would wipe the raiders out of existence. The day passed, and no enemy came. When night came, the colonel concluded that he would guard the town himself. He called in his forces and ordered them to go into camp and go to sleep; then with sword in hand he paced to and fro through the streets, keeping his passions at white heat by frequent libations from his liquor cellar. General Roberts concluded in the evening that he had better send the colonel re-enforce- 432 CAMP AND FIELD. ments, and, as it was dark, he dispatched a train of cars from Clarksburg, with troops for West Union. With all lights extinguished, the train quietly glided along the railroad track, and West Union was reached about midnight. They could not, however, elude the vigilance of the intrepid colonel. The night was as dark as pitch, and all was silent as death, as the darkened train slowly pulled up to the platform, and the troops com- menced to disembark. The colonel's time had come. Nerving himself for the conflict and waving his sword over his head, he dashed upon the supposed foe, shouting as he came up: " Get out of this, you d — d rebels, or I'll kill you all." and commenced cutting and slashing among the troops. Gabriel's horn would not have been a more complete surprise than the colonel's gallant charge, and the soldiers gave back in dismay. The colonel, seeing his advantage, continued to denounce them for their rebellious conduct, and unheard of impertinence. He was finally induced to stay his hand; explanations followed and the colonel and the officers fell back on the cellar and drank each other's health in good old apple jack. One of the amusing incidents of the war that occurred at Clarksburg, Va., did not terminate happily. Soon after hostili- ties began, a New York regiment arrived at Clarksburg, said to be the largest regiment ever seen in the field. How so many men got crowded into one regiment was more than any mortal could tell. It was said to number some 1,700 men. The colonel commanding the regiment had little confidence in the staying qualities of his men, should they be called upon to engage the enemy. They had never been in a battle and did not seem to be spoiling for a fight. It was rumored that the Confederates were advancing upon Clarksburg and the colonel determined to test the courage of his troops. He secretly took a dozen soldiers a couple of miles from the town and concealed them on an eminence above the road, and told them when he brought his regiment opposite them to fire, and to give the " rebel yell." He then returned to town, formed his regiment, told them the enemy was advancing on the town, and that they must go out and meet him. With blanched cheeks, the men rode after their colonel until the ambush was reached. About this time the fear among the men that they would meet the enemy had done its work. Suddenly the roar of musketry was heard, and a dozen balls went whistling over their heads. As though 26 CAMP AND FIELD. 438 actuated by a single impulse, every man rushed down the road as though pursued by a million devils. Away they went, belter skelter, all bent upon placing them- selves under the protection of the fortifications at Clarksburg. It was a race such as never had been seen in that country before, and a similar one may never be seen again. The road was narrow and they went crowding and crushing along, each trying to pass all the rest. At length they dashed into the streets of the town, but the stampede did not stop there. They dashed on through the streets to reach a fort on the hill at the opposite end of the town. While running through the streets the horse of one of the soldiers in front stumbled and fell, and in less time than we can write it, the frightened men and horses had passed over the rider and horse, and trampled them to death. The men did not stop until the fort was reached. Thus terminated, with the loss of one life, the most ludicrous and disgraceful stampede witnessed during the war. MEMORIAL. GEN. ULYSSES S. GRANT. Born 27th April, 1S22. Died 23d July, 1S85. ^^N iron soldier ! *^ unfurled When red vrar O'er all the myriad leagues of the New World Its desolating banner, when fierce hate And brother-sundering feud first shook the state, Two noble names shone chiefly, Lee and Grant, These twain, titanically militant, Shocked like conflicting avalanches. Xow Peace, brooding o'er the land with placid brow, Sees the great fighters fallen. He at last, The calm, tenacious man, who seemed to cast Defiant looks at Death, the stoic stern, W^hom long-diawn anguish could not bend or turn, Lies prone, at peace, after such stress of grief As must have found the summons glad relief. An iron soldier. If, as foemen say, IMixed with true metal much of earthly clay Marred the heroic in him of full state. His land will not record him less than great. Who, in her hour of need, stood firm and stayed The tide of dissolution. Unafraid The people's heart, the patriot muse, may vaunt The golden service of Ulysses Grant. DECEMBER -25, 1864. A SCENE NEVER BEFORE EQUALED IN NAVAL WARFARE. , BY JOSEPH C. CANNING. ORT Fisher's reduction was a matter of grave consideration with the Federal government, so \il^P vital was it to the life of the Confederacy, As early as October, 18G3, Maj.-Gen. John G. 2S" Foster, commanding at- New -Berne, N. C, assured me that the fleet might expect 10,000 men in November, to assist in attacking the fort; but disasters to our army prevented this glad expectancy. It was not until December, 1864, that the work was attempted, at which time some 7.000 men under Major-General Butler in transports, and 8,000 officers and men in about sixty vessels of the navy, under Admiral Porter, were sent to capture the fort. The prelude consisted of a very novel experiment. An old dismantled craft, the Louisiana, carrying two hundred and sixty tons of pow- der was run in under the fort and left to be blown up. It was the opinion of the originator of this brilliant idea that such an explosion would create a vacuum sufficient to throw the guns of the fort from their position and disable the garrison, and assure an easy victory. The report was that Lowell, Mass,, was the place of this scientific conception. The result was a heavy and costly failure. For four days we were pitching and lurching, and during a storm the Louisiana broke adrift, but while drifting past the monitor Monadnock, she was cleverly saved. The evening of December 24, the boat was sent in to the fort to accomplish its work. The fleet was to marshal in order of battle at the explosion and follow for the fight. It had been calculated that the machinery in the Louisiana for ex- CAMP AND FIELD. 435 ploding the cargo would ignite the fuse about 5 a. m. But at 2.15 A. M., a lurid light was visible shorewards, accompanied by a muffled growl, and a strong sulphurous smell was soon de- tected. A fearful heart-sinking followed. The line of battle could not be formed in the darkness and we were ten miles out from the fort. While we felt a trembling jar, the inhabitants of Beaufort, eighty miles away, were aroused from slumber by rattling windows, but in the fort itself a supposition prevailed that one of the blockaders had come to grief. At 5 p. M. the fleet formed the battle line and steamed in shore. The New Ironsides threw the first shot at three minutes to 1 p. M., followed by the broadsides of the entire fleet, — ships of the line, second-raters, third-raters, gunboats, all opening their iron mouths at once. The deafening, thundering noise, the bursting shells mingling with the screaming, flying projectiles, the curling smoke and clouds of rings to and from the opposite batteries, completed a scene never before equaled in naval warfare. On deck, the spectacle was wild. The stern faces of officers and men, covered with the dust of burnt sabots, grimed with powder and perspiration, yet all eager, cool, and determined. There were accidents from bursting ordnance; deaths from the enemy's shots and scalding steam. While the bombardment was progressing, the transports were debarking the troops further up the beach; but, before the debarkment had been completed Major-General Butler ordered the same to cease. Some 2,000 men had already been sent ashore; the fire from the fort had perceptibly weakened and confidence was exultant. On the morrow embarkation succeeded debarkation, and the third day transports and troops steamed back to For- tress Monroe. The bombardment had been abandoned and the Union disgraced. A GRAND RECORD. 5tli New York at Antietam. ^ELAWARE sent seventy-four and JT was the 5th N. Y. Regt. which led eight-tenths per cent, of her mili- the advance of the army from South tary population to the war, a larger Mountain to Antietam creek, develop- percentage than that of any other ing tlie enemy's position, unmasking state. Massachusetts sent fifty-eight his batteries, and capturing 100 pris- per cent. oners. 6f i^o J raf^K^lii^ HOW THE ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND GOT OUT OF A TIGHT PINCH. BY W. F. HINMAN, 65th OHIO. c^^^l^^TLANTA had fallen. Hood had "got away " with his ^^^m^^^ army and was marching rapidly northward, intent (p i Jr\/m Ij^ upon the re-occupation of Tennessee and Kentucky; Sherman was off with four corps on the " march to the sea," while the Fourth and Twenty-third corps, under General Thomas, were kicking up the dust at a lively rate in their efforts to reach Nashville before Hood. The two corps had not exceeding 18,000men. General Scofield was in immediate command, Thomas having hastened bj^rail to Nashville to direct the organization of the various bodies of troops ordered thither from ever}- point in the department from which a man could be spared. A.J. Smith's divis- ion of the Sixteenth corps was on the way up from Memphis, and from Chattanooga, Murfreesboro, Bowling Green, Louisville and other places, brigades and regiments were being hurried to the point of rendezvous. Hood, with 45,000 men, had crossed the Tennessee river at Florence and was headed for Nashville, the onlv force to oppose him before reaching that point being the two corps under Scofield, less than half his strength. It was all important that a few days be gained for collecting and organiz- ing the scattered troops, and Scofield's orders were, while studi- ously avoiding a general engagement, for which his force was wholly inadequate, to delay the enemy's advance as much as possible. With all the available troops concentrated into a com- pact body, and "Old Pap" Thomas at their head, it was believed that Hood's advance would be checked. CAMP AND FIELD. 437 But the situation was the most critical one in the history of the Army of the Cumberland. The rebel commander comprehended it thoroughly, and hurried his army forward to the utmost limit of human endurance. His troops were flushed with the hope, held out to them, of atoning, by a bold stroke, for the long, un- broken series of defeats, as they had been driven a hundred and fifty miles southward from Chattanooga by Sherman's conquer- ing legions. A large number of Hood's regiments were from Ten- nessee and Kentucky, and it is not strange, as every step of their weary march brought them nearerto their homes, which they were to rescue from the hands of the spoiler, their hearts beat high with enthusiasm— just such as the Northern soldiers would have felt under similar circumstances. General Hood, in his "Advance and Retreat," speaks in the highest terms of the morale of his army during the entire march from Atlanta to Nashville. Hood was extremely anxious to overwhelm Schofield before he could reach Thomas. This done, he thought it would be comparatively easy for him to brush away the heterogeneous mass of troops at Nash- ville, or to pass around that place and continue his northward march unopposed. Had he succeeded, the glory of "Sherman's March to the Sea" would have withered like a plucked flower in the noon-day sun. General Schofield, with admirable strategic skill, had impeded the advance of the enemy by taking advantage of every oppor- tunity that was presented, particularly at the crossing of Duck River, near Columbia, where he held Hood at bay for three days. There was much hot skirmishing, and a general engagement seemed imminent at every moment. During the night of Novem- ber 28th the Union army quietK' left its entrenchments, under cover of the darkness, and when the morning broke it was well on its way northward. Stanley, with the Second (Wagner's) Divi- sion of the Fourth Corps, was in the advance, followed by the immense train of baggage, ammunition, commissary and hospital wagons, and in rear of this, the main army. But, meanwhile, the rebels had not been idle. Anticipating such a movement, Hood had ordered Cheatham, with a strong corps, to push rapidly for- ward on a parallel road to Spring Hill, and there plant his troops across the pike on which Schofield was moving, and which led directly to Franklin and Nashville. Stanley, at the head of his column, reached Spring Hill about the middle of the afternoon. The troops w^ere much jaded, having marched without a moment of sleep nearly all the previous night. Cheatham's arrival was almost simultaneous. Stanlev's flankers 438 CAMP AND FIELD. ran into his skirmishers, and a spirited fire ensued. The rattle of musketry and the whistling of bullets over the pike gave notice that an emergency was at hand, and not a moment to be lost. The force of the enemy was unknown, but the established fact is that Cheatham's entire corps was there, outnumbering Stan- lev's single division three or four to one. There was no hope of immediate reinforcement. The wagon train stretched away back along the pike for a distance of five or six miles, and then came the troops under Schofield, with all they could attend to, for Hood's army w^as hovering upon their flank, eagerly watching for an opportunity to strike a decisive blow. The rebel cavalry were active all along the line, and at two of three points swooped down upon the train and captured and destroyed a number of wagons. The vehicles were hurried on with all possible dispatch. It was an unusually interesting and sultry day for the quarter- masters and mule drivers, upon whom the whiz of bullets was generall}^ liable to have a decidedly panicky effect. It w^as an hour of supreme peril to the Fourth and Twenty- third Corps. Indeed, to those who fully realized the situation, it seemed that nothing short of Divine interposition could save them from destruction. All hearts were filled with the gravest apprehensions of disaster, and the light of history proves that they were abundantly justified. If Hood, with his overwhelming num- bers, should strike the moving and incumbered army in flank, rout and ruin would be inevitable. Should Cheatham succeed in gain- ing possession of the pike at Spring Hill, no human power could avert defeat and the loss of the entire train. General Stanley comprehended the emergency and met it with the utmost prompt- ness and decision. Quickly selecting the best available position in the enemy's immediate front, he disposed his small force in the most advantageous manner, directing them to hold it at all haz- ards. The soldiers needed no urging. Nearly all were veterans of three years' service, and every private soldier in the ranks fully under- stood and realized the critical nature of the situation. The rebels charged them repeatedly and made desperate efforts to dislodge them, but in vain. They held the position unaided, against large odds, for two hours, when the arrival of other troops caused the enemy to retire. The battle of Spring Hill ranks as scarcely more than a skirmish. Only two brigades \vere actively engaged on the Union side, but the casualties were severe. The regiment ta w^hich I belonged lost in those two or three hours half as man^^ men as during the two davs' fighting at Chickamauga. Through- CAMP AND FIEl.r». 439 out the engagement, General Stanley exhibited marked coolness and courage, and the few changes in the line were made with masterly skill. Not many times during the war did a force con- front an adversary so relatively strong with such weighty conse- quences depending upon its ability to maintain its position. Had it proved unequal to the task,there was no help at hand, and dire disaster would have dimmed the shining stars of the Army of the Cumberland. It is undoubtedly true that the hesitancy of General Cheatham was singularly fortunate for the Union army. His orders, as General Hood states, were clear and absolute, to push forward and occupy the place. His force was ample to accomplish this had he used it to the best advantage, but the bold front and vig- orous resistance of Wagner's division deceived him into the belief that the force opposing him was much larger than it really was. In a subsequent investigation of his conduct, he urged this in his defense. Never were the shades of night more welcome than when, at the close of that perilous day, they settled down upon Schofield's weary soldiers, as they struggled along the stony pike. During the fight of the afternoon the wagon train had been rushed for- ward, guarded by a force of cavalry and infantry. The troops were kept moving as rapidly and quietly as possible, The bivouac fires of the enemy were in ])lain view, some of them not half a mile distant, and lighted up the evening-sky with a ruddy glow. His pickets at some points were within a hundred yards of the pike. Every officer and soldier realized that the hour of extreme danger had not yet passed. Strung out in a long line for miles upon the highway, marching by the flank, the army was in no condition to resist an attack. A bold dash of a single brigade at almost any point would have broken the column in two, and this, followed by a general movement, would have resulted in utter defeat and rout. It is now a matter of record that, between dusk and midnight. Hood three times sent forward to Cheatham the most emphatic orders to effect a lodgment on the pike at any cost. But he was timorous of a night attack, and the orders were disregarded. Hood was furious at his non-comphance, and soon afterward relieved him from his command. During the few succeeding months before the w^ar closed, the events of that day and night were often discussed in the bivouacs of the Army of the Cumberland, and never without a unanimous vote of thanks to the star of "good luck" that twinkled upon Schofield's army out of that midnisfht vskv. 440 CAMP AND FIELD. The hours and the troops dragged wearily o;i, and the attack so much expected and feared was not made. The "flankers" moved cautiously on either side of the pike, with the strictest or- ders to avoid "stirring up" the enemy. U fired upon, the fire was not to be returned unless required by absolute necessity. At times thev almost brushed the rebel picket posts, as they groped their way through the woods and fields. On the pike the column marched steadily along. Every man trod lightly, lest the noise of his step on the flinty road provoke the enemy. Scarcely a w'ord was spoken, and when commands were necessary they were given in hoarse w^hispers that revealed the intensity of the anxiety and apprehension. Occasional shots from the enemy's pickets, start- ling by their nearness, were heard, and then every man tightened the grasp upon his loaded musket, expecting the fateful moment to be at hand. On and still on, every step diminishing the peril. As the gleaming fires of the enemy's camp grew more and more indistinct, the jaded soldiers breathed a fervent sigh of relief, and there w^ere doubtless a few devout ones who lifted their hearts in thanks to the Almighty — and Cheatham— for deliverance. The rebel soldiers were as much exhausted as those of the Union army, and rested in their bivouac a considerable part of the night. Schofield continued on till daylight, when a brief halt was made for rest. Men dropped upon the ground and were un- conscious in a moment. Many of them had not slept an hour in two days and nights. But early in the day the cavalry brought tidings that Hood was moving. The order was given to "fall in," and the troops, weary and footstore, resumed their march. Soon after noon the advance of the army reached Franklin. The town was literally blocked with wagons, which were struggling in mad haste to get across the Harpeth river by means of a pontoon bridge. As fast as they succeeded, the drivers lashed the mules into a gallop for Nashville, some fifteen miles distant. But there was much delay from the giving way of the bridge and breaking down of vehicles; for the rebel army was hard at the heels of Schofield, and there was a panic among the trainmen. A second bridge was hastily throwm across the stream, and the wagons were hurried over at the utmost speed. The average driver needed no urging, for fear gave strength to his arm, fury to his lash, and unwonted vehemence to his profanity. The enemy was crowding so closely that, unless a "stand" was made, a large number of wagons and their contents w^ould have to be destroyed or abandoned, and it was determined to fight if an attack was made. The troops were in poor condition for the CAMP AND FIELD. 441 fatigue of a battle, but those of the enemy were in no better, and it seemed the best thing to do under all the circumstances. As fast as the divisions arrived, they were immediately disposed in a semi-circular line inclosing the town, the flanks resting upon the river on either side. Entrenchments were hastily thrown up, every man working for his very life. It was known that Scho- field's arm}'^ was largely outnumbered, and breastworks must make up for the inferior force. Fences and buildings disappeared almost in a moment, and the debris was used for barricades. A trench was dug on the outside and the earth thrown up so that in an hour's time the Union troops were behind a very good line of works, with batteries planted at proper intervals. Hood was informed by his cavalry of Schofield's preparations to fight. Knowing that every moment strengthened the enemy's position, he formed his charging line as fast as his brigade came up. The last to arrive scarcely halted at all. The order "forward" was given, and the line moved grandly on. The history of the war records no braver charge than that of the rebels at Franklin. Without cover, the long line swept for half a mile over a wide, level cotton-field, in the face of a terrific fire of musketry, grape and canister. Before that withering storm they fell like grass before the scythe, but the survivors pressed on, into the ditch, and and at one spot over the works. They were met with clubbed gun and bayonet. For a moment it seemed that the day was lost, when a superb dash by Opdycke's brigade drove back over the entrenchments those that remained alive, and the line was re- established. Twelve hundred of the enemy surrendered in the trenches, not caringtotake the chance of retreating over that field of death. The carnage was frightful. Rarely in the war was such deadly work done as during those two hours near the close of that No- vember dav. The fight began between four and five o'clock, and before dark the torn and shattered line had abandoned the des- perately gallant attempt, and retired from the field. In this brief engagement the rebels lost more general officers than in any other battle of the war, not excepting Gettysburg and other great con- flicts in the East. Seven were killed and six wounded. Hood re- ported his loss much below the actual figure. A few years ago I visited Franklin, and in the battle cemetery I counted the graves of nearlv 1,400. Many were taken away after the battle by their friends living in the vicinity. At the usual ratio of wounded to killed, the casualties on the Confederate side were not less than 8,000. Schofield's loss w^as about a third of this number. Gen- 4-42 CAMP AND FIELD. eral Stanley was conspicuous for his bravery in this engagement, until pierced by a bullet that disabled him. While the battle was in progress the train had been safely crossed. During the night the Union troops withdrew, and soon afternoon, on December 1, bivouacked in the suburbs of Nash- ville. The men were almost in the last stages of exhaustion, the marching and fighting of the three days previous, almost without rest or sleep, having taxed to the very uttermost their powers of endurance. Two weeks later, at the blast of the bugle, that army swept like a tornado over the entire Confederate line of en- trenchments, and Hood's army was so completely routed that thereafter it existed only in history. KeTidaFi Qgamst ft^^i't 1864. Raid of the Federal Cavalry Corps from the Rappahannock to the James. CUSTER S CHARGE AT YELLOW TAVERN. General Stuart's Death within Earshot of Richmond. By BREVET LIEUT. -COL. THEO. W. BEAN, C. C. A. of P. 'N the promotion of Maj.-Gen. U. S. Grant to be lieutenant- general in 18G4, and the establishment of his headquarters i with the Army of the Potomac, he brought with him from "^ the West only one general field officer; Maj.-Gen. Philip H. Sheridan, of whom the East- ern public and Army of the Potomac knew little, save that he was a successful di- vision commander in the Southwest. The advent of Sheridan as commander of the cavalry corps was fol- lowed by the reorganiza- tion of the divisions. Brig.- Gen, A. T. A. Torbert was assigned to the command of the 1st Division, with the following brigade com- manders: 1st Brigade, Gen- eral Custer; 2d Brigade, Colonel Devin; Reserve Brigade, Gen- eral Merritt; 3d Division, Brig. -Gen. David M. C. M. Gregg; 1st Brigade, Brigadier-General Davies; 2d Brigade, Colonel Gregg: .3d Division, Brigadier-General Wilson; 1st Brigade, Colonel Avery; 2d Brigade, Colonel Pennington. 444 CAMP AND FIELD. On the night of May 8, the cavahy corps was massed on the extreme left of Grant on the main road from Fredericksburg to Chancellors ville. Sheridan's orders contemplated cutting Lee's communications from his base of supplies, raiding his rear, threatening Richmond, and thus affording them an oppor- tunity of meeting the Confederate cavalry upon a fair open field. Grant's advance had reached and passed Spottsylvania Court House. He had driven Lee from the Rappahannock, a line which Mr. Davis had declared could be held for " twenty years if the necessities of the Confederacy required it." The corps was standing to horse before the sun of the 0th rose upon the grand pageant of the army. The number of men including the horse artillery was estimated at 9,000, and with the ammu- nition and the limited baggage and ambulance trains, the col- umn was between nine and ten miles long. Owing to the severe illness of General Torbert, Gen. Wesley Merritt was in command of the 1st Division. This division ad- vanced rapidly the morning of the Oth, the objective point being Beaver Dam Station, on the Virginia Central railroad. By sunrise we crossed the head waters of the Mattapony river. The 1st Division halted only at Cliildsburg; and there only to mass and close up. No serious obstacle was met in front or on our flank. The 2d and 3d Divisions, however, were less fortu- nate. General Stuart was not long in learning of the move, and by midday he was felt on both flanks and rear of the mov- ing column. This gave impetus to our troops, who scented a prize at Beaver Dam Station. The leading brigade was Gen- eral Custer's, composed of the 1st, 5th, Gth, and 7th Mich. Regts. It was near p. m. when we reached Beaver Dam Sta- tion. The station was unguarded and the charging squadron promptl}^ made prisoners of all the employes and compelled them to signal all approaching trains and have them stop at the station. The telegraph operator informed us that two trains would be at the station in less than half an hour, one from Richmond with ammunition and supplies for Lee, and the other from Lee's army with prisoners. This was cheering news. Every precaution was taken to insure their capture. Soon the whistle "■ down brakes " was heard and the down train slowed up at the station. The Michigan boys captured the train and were overjoyed at the deliverance of some 400 prisoners, over one-half of whom belonged to their brigade, having been capt- CAMP AND FIELD. 445 ured in the engagement of May 6, while uncovering Lee's right flank. The joy of the occasion was intensified by the arrival and capture of the train from Richmond with supplies; and every precaution was now taken to prevent a surprise and to resist attack. The railroad was occupied for a safe distance east and west, the cars were fired, and the track torn up for a mile or more in each direction. By midnight, the command was quietly resting within the well-guarded lines of the corps. The burning of the station and other property was contrary to Gen- eral Sheridan's orders, as the light from the conflagration enabled Stuart to turn his guns upon us. At the dawn of day, to the music of shot and shell, we moved in the direction of Richmond, deferring the pleasure of coffee and accompani- ments until a later hour in the day. The head of the column met with no impeding force on the 10th, but fighting took place on the marching flank of the 2d and 3d Divisions, and the rear guard was frequently forced rapidly back. The weather was clear, the roads good, the country open and admirably adapted to the movement of mounted troops. Charge and counter-charge were frequently witnessed on the flanks and rear of the column, as it crowded its way towards the Confederate capital. It was known that we would reach Richmond before sunset May 11. Whether Stuart had passed our left flank and thus defeated our intended surprise was a question to us. The rank and file fully compre- hended the situation, and believed that only a portion of Lee's cavalry were pressing our rear, while the best of their mounted troops would be met at Brook pike, about seven miles north- west of Richmond. It turned out that Stuart crossed our rear late on the 9th, passed our marching flank on the 10th, and by noon of the 11th had placed batteries covering every road lead- ing to Richmond north of the James river. The 2d Brigade under Colonel Devin advanced the 11th, the reserve brigade under General Gibbs, supporting it, and met Stuart's outposts on the mountain road about noon. The enemy, driven back over Brook pike, took a strong position on a ridge of open country, his left covering the Brook pike, and his right west of the public road leading from Atlee's Station. The Con- federates' resistance was stubborn and our troops were largely dismounted before they succeeded in reaching and passing 446 CAMP Ax\D fie;ld. Brook pike. Stuart's battery had perfect range of our horses in rear of the carbineers, and shell and shot were playing havoc with the poor brutes. Meantime the enemy was thun- dering upon the rear divisions of Gregg and Wilson and the firing indicated a line of battle forming upon all sides of us. The situation by 3.30 P. m. was one of great anxiety. Within an area of ten miles, 18,000 cavalry were forming their lines for deadly battle. The prize was an important one. Not only was the reputation of the leaders at issue, but Richmond was in actual danger, for at that hour only the line of Stuart lay be- tween Sheridan and the Confederate capital; on the other hand, if Stuart could hold us until the morrow, troops could be has- tened forward from Petersburg and our column could be crushed on the 12th. There were many distinguished officers in command of the Confederate line in front of us, — Stuart, Fitz Lee, and Lomax, and they were well known to Gregg, Merritt, Gibbs, and Custer. Stuart was in the zenith of his great reputation, while Sheridan had yet to meet his superior in the field. It was at this critical hour that Custer rode up to Merritt and said, "Merritt, I am going to charge that battery." Merritt responded, "Go in, general, I will give you all the support in my power." Just at this moment General Sheridan and staff reached our headquarters and reported our line on flank and rear secure beyond all doubt. General Merritt immediately told Sheridan that Custer was about to charge the battery that had given us so much trouble. Sheridan's reply was: "Bully for Custer! I'll wait and see it." Custer formed his brigade in column of regiments, placing his mounted band in front. His headquarters flag — of the gayest colors — was flying in advance of the moving mass of glittering blades. The shrill blast of one hundred bugles and the familiar air of " Yankee Doodle " rang out upon the battle field while fully 1,800 brave men of the Michigan brigade rode boot to boot into what seemed the very jaws of death. There was a depression in the plain between where Custer formed and the position occupied by the battery. The task was further complicated by a deep "Virginia ditch," over which were three corduroy field bridges. This ditch was impassable in Custer's front, and the entire brigade had to break from regimental front to column of fours, cross the bridge, and then reform in the face of a terrific fire from the CAMP AND FIELD 447 battery. Fortunately the enemy's guns could not be depressed sufficiently to be effective. This obstacle overcome, the charge was made up the rising ground, within sight of the Union line. The wild huzzas of thousands went up to cheer the gallant horsemen as they dashed upon and passed the guns, completely stampeding the troops in support of the artillery. In less than twenty minutes from the time the bugle sounded, the enemy was completely routed. Many were killed and captured, and all of their artillery save one piece — and that flying from the field — fell into our hands. The enemy retired so rapidly that capture was impossible, and the recall was sounded within a mile from the point where the battery was captured. General Sheridan remained an eye-witness to the splendid charge. As Custer's men emerged from the depression at a trot and struck the gallop, under the firing of the battery, the scene was of the most exciting character. When the guns were reached and passed, the whole line from right to left was advanced, and victory was assured to the Union troops. At this moment. General Sheridan turned to Merritt, his face radiant with joy, and said: " General Merritt, send a staff offi- cer to General Custer and give him my compliments. The con- duct of himself and of his brigade deserves the most honorable mention.'' General Custer received the compliment with evi- dent pleasure, modestly expressing his thanks, saying he deemed the "honorable mention'" of his brigade a most pleas- ing and fortunate episode of his life. The situation, for hours previous so critical, was now one of undoubted success. The news that General Stuart was mortally wounded soon reached us through prisoners, and farther that the Confederate cavalry were unsupported by troops from Richmond. The latter was desirable news. The command was given two hours to prepare coffee and food for the men and to feed and groom the horses, preparatory to a night march. As soon as Stuart's line was broken at Yellow Tavern, his right and left wings withdrew from the front. This uncovered the Brook pike, and a regiment of the 2d Brigade, under direction of Colonel Devin. advanced to Richmond and halted at the outer line of defenses. It re- mained there until dark. A field hospital was established under care of our medical officers, and, bidding good-by to the brave comrades who were too badly wounded to be removed, 448 CAMP AND FIELD. the command took up the line of march for the night. The darkness was intense. The 17th Penn. Cavalry, Colonel Ander- son commanding, drove the local troops to the Meadow bridge over the Chickahominy, and by 10 p. m. had a picket post within three miles of Mr. Davis's mansion. They held this po- sition until the morning of the 12th. The enemy planted ex- plosives in the bed of the road and greatly annoyed our mid- night march, at the same time indicating our exact location during every hour of the march. Several thousand troops were detached from the army confronting General Butler, and were rapidly marched during the night of the 11th to the works on the northwest of Richmond, with orders to attack us at day- light. General Hampton reorganized the cavalry, and during the night took position near Meadow bridge. By 3 o'clock a. m. of the 12th, the command, with its trains, was on the road lead- ing to Meadow bridge and within three miles of the heart of the city. The bells could be clearly heard and many lights dis- tinctly seen. Towards four o'clock a. m. it began to rain in torrents. The situation was critical, and the rain soon rendered it almost impossible to move our artillery on the battle line or to park the trains at points necessary for their protection. By seven o'clock a. m., the Union line formed the arc of a circle, the left resting on the Chickahominy at a point some three hundred yards southeast of the railroad bridge, and the right resting in air where the road on which we were marching unites with the Brook pike. To pass the Chickahominy, the 1st Division under General Merritt was dismounted and di- rected to dislodge the troops under Hampton. The old wooden bridge appeared to be in the last stages of public usefulness. The carbineers, armed with Spencer seven-shooters, passed the bridge under a galling fire and secured a foothold on the east side. The resistance was stubborn and the struggle was con- tinued with considerable loss. General Merritt had no doubt that he could dislodge the enemy, but General Sheridan feared that the enemy in front of Gregg and Wilson would force them to retire too rapidly, and having but a single roadway and a narrow track bridge it might be attended with confusion and loss. Could not the railroad bridge within our line be utilized? True, it was an open bridge: but if planked or covered it could be used for dismounted troops. Fully a thousand hands were CAMP AND FIELD. 449 soon at work pulling down fences and frame buildings, and in less than two hours the motley crowd could be seen making good time for the James river. Our advance had been checked for at least three hours, during which time Gregg and Wilson successfully resisted several well directed efforts of the enemy to break their line. Meanwhile, General Merritt, with the 1st Division dismounted, forced the enemy to retire from the posi- tion on the east side of the bridge, and by noon the passage of the corps was safely effected, the rear guard being closely fol- lowed by the enemy. The command encamped near Mechan- icsville for the night without further molestation. The next day. May 13, the march was made across the Peninsula, reach- ing Malvern Hill about two o'clock p. m. Here we were met by the gunboats conveying supplies for both man and beast. We had been out four days and had lost 715 in killed and wounded. THE SOLDIER'S LAST WORD. By PARK BENJAMIN. 5E lay U11011 the battle field, Where late the crash of arms '^^ was heard. And from his pallid lips there came, In broken accents, one fond word. " Mother ! " was all the soldier said, As, freshly from his wounded side, The hot blood flowed and bore away His life upon its crimson tide. Bravest among the brave he rushed. Without a throb or thought of fear, And loudest 'mid the tumult pealed. In clarion tones, his charging cheer : — On to the battle ! comrades, on ! Strike for the Union ! strike for fame ! Who lives, will win his country's praise, Who dies, will leave a glorious name. Alas ! w^hat courage can advance Against a storm of iron hail? What hearts repel a fiery sleet, Though clad, like ancient knights, in mail ? He sunk beneath the waves of strife. Among an undistinguished train, Foremost upon the battle field. And first among the early slain. Dying, he turned him from the flag, Whose Stars and Sti-ipes still onward waved ; Dying, he thought no more of fame, Of victory won, or country saved. No ! for his home and her he loved His sad, departing spirit sighed ; " Mother ! " the soldier fondly said. And, looking toward the North, he died. 1864 A BRILLIANT SUNDAY MORNING SURPRISE PARTY. Thousauds of Southern Citizens Rush to the Protection of Federal (Juns. SCENES OF DEMORALIZATION UNPARALLELED DURING THE WAR. By A. W. PEAKSOS, V. S. >., Paymaster U. S. Steamship Bed Clover, Miss. Sqnadron. ; XWXWXWXXWWWXXWXVCfcN" It^ EMPHIS, in 1864, was apparently secure in the pro- ^ \ I tection of Uncle Sam's forces. At the navy yard lay two of our strongest iron-clads, the Louisville and the Essex. The heavy guns of Fort Pickering commanded the city from the southward, and the main approaches from the east and northeast were held by numerous regiments of cavalry and infantry. There was no suspicion of danger; business and pleasure went on in their usual rounds; the farmers daily hauled their produce for trade, and we had forgotten that grim- visaged war had not yet smoothed his wrinkled front; if an uneasy Jeremiah had ventured to predict the catastrophe of the coming day he would have been laughed at as a lunatic. The city was the depot for vast stores of war material, and the site of numerous hospitals. The general commanding had dispensed with the austerities of camp life, establishing his headquarters in a city residence. Many subordinate officers followed his example and either kept house or boarded at the elegant Gayoso Hotel, close under Fort Pickering's guns. Such was the status of things on the evening of Saturday, August 20. I left the steamer Red Rover lying at the navy yard, and passed the night with army acquaintances up town, earnestly en- gaged in the solution if the mysteries of a game of cards. The dawn of the 21st was trying to pierce the fog when I started to CAMP AND FIELD. 451 return on board. My attention was attracted by the clatter of a troop of horses, passing along the street. A moment afterward I was startled by the sound of a shot, a few blocks distant. While reflecting upon the meaning of this uncanny report, I was interested by the speech of an old lady who was gazing down at me from a second story window. With an indescriba- ble expression, she said: " Good Lord! man, the rebs is in town I A whole crowd jist went by on horseback!" Scarcely crediting this improbable statement, I quickened my pace, accelerated by another shot or two down the street. At the next block I came across the prostrate form of a Union officer. He was shot through the breast. This surely looked ugly. Everything was enveloped in fog and uncertainty. As I turned from Madison to Front streets I bounced upon a young darky, who gasped: " Massa, de rebs is heah, shuah! Run!" and suiting action to the word, he skedaddled. I had restricted myself to pretty long and rapid steps, but now I fairly sailed over the jimson weeds to the Memphis levee. All hands were called, steam was raised, and we waited for '• some- thing to turn up." About 9 A, M, the fog lifted, and seeing no signs of an enemy I ventured to return to our naval hospital. No intimation of danger had yet reached this sanctuary, so I determined to con- tinue to the Gayoso House. A crowd was about the entrance and there I soon learned that I had not been terrified by shadows. The enemy had indeed been in town and had called at the hotel. Forrest's forces surrounded the Gayoso soon after daybreak, and sent a few files into the house to ' ' pick up the game," Regardless of courtesy they passed along the corridors, and opened the bedroom doors with the butts of their carbines. If the divested clothing of the occupant bore any of the in- signia of Uncle Sam, the owner of the duds was invited to step forth, and he did not cease stepping until he had traveled on foot some sixty miles from the city of Memphis, A friend of mine was awake, and, hearing the unusual clat- ter of hoofs, sprang from his bed and rushed to the window. He did not err in guessing at what must be the matter. Catch- ing up his uniform he threw it beneath a pile of soiled linen assorted for the wash. Knowing where the " colored help " of the hotel roosted, he dashed for one of their rooms, and popped into bed between two of the daughters of Ham, who were re- 452 CAMP AND FIEl.r>. posing in peaceful ignorance of impending peril. Hastily informing his sable friends of the stress of necessity, they cov- ered him up, head and ears in their midst, and when the Con- federacy smashed in their door they saluted them with such an outburst of outraged modesty that the invaders refrained from investigation. When the coast was clear my friend emerged from his dusky retreat, with an all pervading sense of the strength of "contraband" assistance. Forrest also sent a detachment to capture the commanding general. Here his men blundered. While they were examin- ing the front of the building the general and his aides escaped through the rear door, and over the garden fence, making safe retreat to Fort Pickering. Reaching camp I found sad evidence of the consequences of Forrest's untimely visit. A part of our soldiers were engaged in the excavation of a long trench by the roadside, destined to receive the bodies of the Confederate dead. In the midst of the camp, lay our boys who had fallen in the combat. General Forrest, by visiting the city in disguise, had ac- quainted himself with the state of its defenses, and at dawn on Sunday, under cover of the dense fog, with 1500 cavalry came in on the Hernando road, drove in Wood's pickets, reached and charged through the camp, firing upon the tents and slaughter- ing their inmates almost before they were awake. I counted twenty bullet holes in one tent. The brigade quartermaster, Johnson Smith, a prominent lawyer of Warsaw, 111., was a aroused by the firing, and stepped outside of the tent just as a man rode past. He asked the horseman what was the matter, and for reply received a carbine shot through the breast. I visited him in the hospital the day after the action. He showed me the blue orifice where the ball entered and where it had passed out between his shoulders. He thought "it would not amount to much," and that he would " soon get over it." The next day he was over it, and over all his mortal trouble. Sev- eral thousand troops were encamped around the city, all within earshot of the fight, and all under arms; only waiting for in- formation and orders from headquarters. Unfortunately, head- quarters not being where they should have been, had been, stampeded. The alarm had become pretty well spread; the fog was lifting, and Forrest, well aware that he was encircled by force enough to devour his command if they could only see how CAMP AND FI^.LD 453 to catch it, successfully retreated, carrying with him eighty prisoners, and leaving a ghastly array of killed and wounded. The second day following, the whole city was again thrown into a fever of excitement. The fortifications and troops kept up a clash of arms the entire day. When at last the trouble was solved it was found that a body of negro troops had marched from their camp into some woods to drill at firing, and this was construed into an attack, while a white cow peacefully wagging her tail to keep off the mosquitoes, upon the opposite bank of the river, had been supposed to be a flag of truce from Kirby Smith and Dick Taylor, demanding the surrender of the city. A FLAG WITH A HISTORY. OOHP: old flag of the l-2;5(l Regt. ^^ Ind. Vols., which has been '^d^ missing for years, and was long ago given up by the state authori- ties as lost forever, bobbed up serenely recently, in a badly damaged con- dition, and was placed among the regi- mental standards in the custody of the state librarian. The history of its wanderings is not fully known, but a ^hort time ago it was discovered by William Arnold,— brother of INIrs. Wal- ton, the woman recently convicted of complicity in the mui'derof her husband, — in the possession of a man living near St. Paul, in Decatur county, and, refus- ing to give it up, the two came to blows and engaged in a bloody fight. Arnold came out victorious and obtained possession of the old flag, which he shipped to Col. E. H. Wolfe, auditor of the state, who was as proud as if he had captured a fort when he marched into the state library with it and de- livered it to the safe-keeping of the librai-iau. Tlie flag has suffered some from improper nandling and exposure. It is full of bullet holes, and hangs in tatters, Imt there is still enough of it left worth preserving. First PasseHSfer Train Captured. "♦JpTIE first time during the war that a passenger train was captured and robbed, was in February, 1864, when the rebels captured the Baltimore ex- press train for Wheeling. The capture was made near Kearneysville, Western Virginia. CAPTURING A SPY. By "OLD REGAN." EAR the spot where our regiment was encamped was a small earthwork. It contained a battery of twelve pounders, besides a huge eleven-inch gun which was elevated on a mound so that it could command the ford across the creek. We had a cook, named Hans, who was a short, thick-set young [f German of eighteen or nine- teen years ; extremely awkward and with unmistakable Teu- tonic features. A shock of yellow hair added much to his ludicrous appearance. Hans was no coward. We tried sev- eral jokes on him, but all were sorry failures. In fact, he wouldn't scare *' worth a cent"; so two of us made a bold plan to try and frighten him. He had the habit of mounting the great gun every morning after his work was done, and, straddling it, sit in deep thought, gaz- ing pensively towards the Confederate pickets. One evening, Samuel Jones got the artillerist who had charge of the gun to load it as heavily as possible and put the touch-hole in goo