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FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL 
 AND PRISON 
 
 IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 
 
 CHARLES A. HUMPHREYS 
 
 \\ 
 
 CHAPLAIN SECOND MASSACHUSETTS CAVALRY VOLUNTEERS 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 PRESS OF GEO. H. ELLIS CO. 
 I9l8 
 
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FOREWORD 
 
 T MAKE no apology for printing this tale of 
 the last two years of the Civil War even 
 though another and greater war is engrossing 
 the attention of the whole world. This greater 
 war will soon end, and, as God lives, will end 
 in the triumph of the right, and the nations will 
 then be ready to enforce peace if any one should 
 attempt to disturb it. My story will be in 
 line with that great consummation. I feel so 
 strongly that when war is seen in its true colors, 
 it will not only lose all its allurements, but 
 will excite a keener appreciation of the bless 
 ings of peace, that I think I could do no better 
 service in the cause of peace than to present, as 
 I intend, an unvarnished tale of war s scenes 
 and labors, its trials and exposures. I shall 
 weave them, in a measure, about my own per 
 sonal experiences, but only so far as is necessary 
 to present the various phases of war in definite 
 outline and living reality. 
 
 CHARLES A. HUMPHREYS. 
 
 M11A681 
 
CONDENSED SKETCH OF CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 War conditions in 1863 12 
 
 Camp life at Vienna, Virginia, in the winter of 
 1863-64. A Chaplain s experiences as post 
 master and hospital visitor 3~IO 
 
 Woman s help and inspiration in camp and 
 hospital exemplified by Mrs. Josephine 
 
 Shaw Lowell 11-12 
 
 Difficulties in holding Sunday services for the 
 
 regiment 12-13 
 
 Services in the hospital more regular 14 
 
 The Chaplain s aims in his work *4~*9 
 
 The Chaplain prepares a deserter for execution. 19-22 
 Encouraging letter from Rev. James Walker, 
 
 D.D., ex-president of Harvard College . . 22-23 
 A scout after Mosby. Herman Melville, the 
 
 noted traveller, goes along with us .... 24-34 
 
 Opening of spring campaign of 1864 34~37 
 
 The battles of the Wilderness , . 37~49 
 
 Appearance of the field a month after the 
 battles, when Chaplain Humphreys assists 
 in gathering the wounded who could bear 
 
 the journey to Washington 49~5 2 
 
 His wounded men inquire after Gen. William F. 
 
 Bartlett. Tribute to Bartlett 52-54 
 
vi CONDENSED SKETCH OF CONTENTS 
 
 PACK 
 
 Difficulties of the journey for the wounded to 
 
 Washington 54-58 
 
 Sheridan s raid towards Richmond 59~^9 
 
 Siege of Spottsylvania. Gallant charge by 
 
 General Hancock ?o~77 
 
 Sheridan opens the way to Cold Harbor . . . 81-83 
 
 Battle of Cold Harbor. Chaplain Humphreys 
 younger brother is killed on the skirmish 
 line 83-85 
 
 The loss in the final assault more than ten 
 thousand in one hour. Losses in the 
 month s battles over sixty thousand . . . 85-88 
 
 Change of base to City Point 89-91 
 
 General Butler s movement from Fortress 
 
 Monroe to Bermuda Hundred 9*~92 
 
 General Sigel s movement up the Shenandoah 
 Valley defeated at Newmarket. General 
 Hunter followed, and though successful at 
 Piedmont failed at Lynchburg and retreated 92 
 
 General Early starts from Lynchburg for a raid 
 
 on Washington 92-93 
 
 Lowell s brigade ordered to watch the passes of 
 the Blue Ridge. To this end Major Forbes 
 is sent out with one hundred and fifty men, 
 and is attacked at Aldie by Colonel Mosby 
 and captured with fifty of his men. Major 
 Forbes heroic charge single-handed . . . 93~~99 
 
 Chaplain Humphreys is chased six miles by 
 Colonel Mosby, but eludes him, and, re 
 turning to look after the wounded, is taken 
 prisoner by a guerrilla and made to walk 
 thirty miles to Mosby s headquarters at 
 Rectortown 
 
CONDENSED SKETCH OF CONTENTS vii 
 
 PACK 
 
 All the prisoners are taken to Lynchburg and 
 confined in a tobacco-warehouse. Sunday, 
 July 17, 1864, Chaplain Humphreys, by 
 request, conducts a religious service in the 
 prison, and afterwards is sent to the guard 
 house for preaching patriotism. The 
 sufferings of close confinement ..... 114-123 
 
 Friday, July 22d. The prisoners are packed in 
 box cars and sent a six days journey to 
 Georgia. The prison stockade at Macon . 123-132 
 
 Of the sixteen hundred Union officers im 
 prisoned at Macon, three hundred are sent 
 to Charleston to be put under the fire of 
 the Union guns ............ 132-137 
 
 Chaplain Humphreys is there offered his free 
 dom if he will go to Washington and urge 
 on Lincoln an exchange of prisoners. But 
 he declines and gives his reasons in an 
 address to the prisoners during a religious 
 service conducted by him at the request 
 of General Stoneman ......... I 37~~I39 
 
 Prison conditions in Charleston ....... 140-144 
 
 September 2, 1864. All chaplains and surgeons 
 are released on exchange. The joy of being 
 again under the Union flag ....... 144-145 
 
 Chaplain Humphreys at Hilton Head arranges 
 for the exchange of his messmate, Lieu 
 tenant C. W. Amory, who was dangerously 
 sick, and through General Saxton secures 
 a slight change in the range of the Union 
 guns so that they would not longer im 
 peril the lives of the Union piisoners in 
 Charleston .............. 145-146 
 
 
vi CONDENSED SKETCH OF CONTENTS 
 
 PACK 
 
 Difficulties of the journey for the wounded to 
 
 Washington S4~58 
 
 Sheridan s raid towards Richmond 59~69 
 
 Siege of Spottsylvania. Gallant charge by 
 
 General Hancock 7O~77 
 
 Sheridan opens the way to Cold Harbor . . . 81-83 
 
 Battle of Cold Harbor. Chaplain Humphreys 
 younger brother is killed on the skirmish 
 line 83-85 
 
 The loss in the final assault more than ten 
 thousand in one hour. Losses in the 
 month s battles over sixty thousand . . . 85-88 
 
 Change of base to City Point 89-91 
 
 General Butler s movement from Fortress 
 
 Monroe to Bermuda Hundred 91-92 
 
 General Sigel s movement up the Shenandoah 
 Valley defeated at Newmarket. General 
 Hunter followed, and though successful at 
 Piedmont failed at Lynchburg and retreated 92 
 
 General Early starts from Lynchburg for a raid 
 
 on Washington 92-93 
 
 Lowell s brigade ordered to watch the passes of 
 the Blue Ridge. To this end Major Forbes 
 is sent out with one hundred and fifty men, 
 and is attacked at Aldie by Colonel Mosby 
 and captured with fifty of his men. Major 
 Forbes heroic charge single-handed . . . 93~99 
 
 Chaplain Humphreys is chased six miles by 
 Colonel Mosby, but eludes him, and, re 
 turning to look after the wounded, is taken 
 prisoner by a guerrilla and made to walk 
 thirty miles to Mosby s headquarters at 
 Rectortown 99-114 
 
CONDENSED SKETCH OF CONTENTS vii 
 
 PACK 
 
 All the prisoners are taken to Lynchburg and 
 confined in a tobacco-warehouse. Sunday, 
 July 17, 1864, Chaplain Humphreys, by 
 request, conducts a religious service in the 
 prison, and afterwards is sent to the guard 
 house for preaching patriotism. The 
 sufferings of close confinement 114-123 
 
 Friday, July 22d. The prisoners are packed in 
 box cars and sent a six days journey to 
 Georgia. The prison stockade at Macon . 123-132 
 
 Of the sixteen hundred Union officers im- 
 prisoned at Macon, three hundred are sent 
 to Charleston to be put under the fire of 
 the Union guns 132-137 
 
 Chaplain Humphreys is there offered his free 
 dom if he will go to Washington and urge 
 on Lincoln an exchange of prisoners. But 
 he declines and gives his reasons in an 
 address to the prisoners during a religious 
 service conducted by him at the request 
 of General Stoneman I 37~I39 
 
 Prison conditions in Charleston 140-144 
 
 September 2, 1864. All chaplains and surgeons 
 are released on exchange. The joy of being 
 again under the Union flag 144-145 
 
 Chaplain Humphreys at Hilton Head arranges 
 for the exchange of his messmate, Lieu 
 tenant C. W. Amory, who was dangerously 
 sick, and through General Saxton secures 
 a slight change in the range of the Union 
 guns so that they would not longer im 
 peril the lives of the Union prisoners in 
 Charleston 145-146 
 
viii CONDENSED SKETCH OF CONTENTS 
 
 PACK 
 
 Chaplain Humphreys finds personal friends at 
 Morris Island in Col. A. S. Hartwell and 
 Lieut. Col. C. B. Fox, and through their 
 identification gets his back pay and takes 
 a steamer September I3th for New York 
 and reaches his home in Dorchester, 
 September iyth 147-148 
 
 There and at Naushon he recruits his strength 
 
 and returns to the front October I3th. . 148 
 
 General Early s raid towards Washington, 
 July 7, 1864. Colonel Lowell at Rockville 
 with the Second Massachusetts Cavalry 
 harasses his retreat 148-151 
 
 Early s second raid July 25th makes Grant 
 resolve to clear the Shenandoah Valley, 
 and he gives the task to General Sheridan, 
 who delegates Colonel Lowell to lead the 
 advance and gives him four regiments of 
 Regular Cavalry to put with his own. 
 Battle of the Opequan. The Confederates 
 are sent whirling through Winchester. The 
 Woodstock races the most brilliant cav 
 alry fight of the war 151-165 
 
 Battle of Cedar Creek. General Sheridan saves 
 the day. Lowell s brilliant fighting and 
 heroic death 165-181 
 
 The Chaplain s tribute of love and admiration 
 to his Colonel Charles Russell Lowell. He 
 gets the sculptor Daniel C. French to 
 mould a bust of him in Italian marble and 
 has it placed in Memorial Hall, Cambridge, 
 opposite the bust of General Bartlett by 
 the same artist, and gets permission from 
 
CONDENSED SKETCH OF CONTENTS ix 
 
 PACK 
 
 James Russell Lowell to take from his 
 Commemoration Ode the inscription under 
 the bust 181-190 
 
 Loudon County the field of Mosby s guerrilla 
 bands is laid waste. The terrible destruc- 
 tiveness of war 190-192 
 
 Winter camps in the Shenandoah. At Charles- 
 town Chaplain Humphreys is entertained at 
 breakfast by George Lafayette Washing 
 ton, great-grand-nephew of the " Father of 
 his Country" 192-194 
 
 December I9th to December 29th. General 
 Torbert leads five thousand cavalry to 
 Gordonsville in the hardest expedition of 
 the whole war. Our sufferings from the 
 extreme cold 194-203 
 
 The last great cavalry expedition of the war. 
 Sheridan leads his ten thousand troopers 
 up the Shenandoah, driving Early before 
 him, and at Waynesboro captures sixteen 
 hundred Confederates; then crosses the 
 Blue Ridge and destroys the Virginia 
 Central Railroad and the James River 
 Canal, the chief sources of Lee s supplies 
 at Richmond 203-216 
 
 The dangerous fording of the North Anna 
 River. Chaplain Humphreys is forced to 
 the bottom of the river by the mad struggles 
 of the swimming horses 216-221 
 
 The column reaches White House Landing, 
 March i8th, having lost four thousand 
 horses by the exhaustions of the march. 
 In six days their loss is replaced and Sheri 
 dan joins Grant at Petersburg 221-22 
 
t CONDENSED SKETCH OF CONTENTS 
 
 PAGI 
 
 Lee s desperate situation after Sheridan s 
 
 cutting off his supplies 225-231 
 
 Infantry battle, March 3ist, at Boydton Plank 
 Road, in which Charles J. Mills, H. C. 
 1 860, is killed. Cavalry battle, March 3 1 st, 
 at Dinwiddie Court House. Sheridan s in 
 spiring presence at the crisis of the battle. 
 Lieut. Augustus L. Papanti later the 
 fashionable dancing-master of Boston is 
 wounded through both feet, and Chaplain 
 Humphreys helps him off the field to the 
 hospital 231-244 
 
 The Battle of Five Forks, April 1st, strategi 
 cally one of the best-fought battles of the 
 war. Heroism of Lieut. Huntington F. 
 Wolcott. Chaplain Humphreys helps a 
 mortally wounded captain of the Fifth 
 United States Cavalry off the field and 
 cheers his last hours. Sheridan fights like 
 a Viking, and, as at Cedar Creek, turns a 
 panic into a victorious assault on Pickett s 
 left flank. The trophies of the day were 
 thirteen battle-flags and six thousand pris 
 oners 244-256 
 
 Lee is forced out of Petersburg and Richmond. 
 The cavalry begins to harry his retreat. 
 Maj. William H. Forbes rejoins us April 
 4th. Davies brigade scoops up nearly a 
 thousand Confederates at Paine s Cross 
 roads *; . ; . 257-267 
 
 Battle of Sailor s Creek. Custer s famous charge 
 and the capture of Ewell s whole corps of 
 more than nine thousand men 267-274 
 
CONDENSED SKETCH OF CONTENTS xi 
 
 PACK 
 
 The advance of Lee s retreating army approach 
 ing High Bridge over the Appomattox finds 
 its way disputed by a single battalion of 
 the Fourth Massachusetts Cavalry under 
 Col. Francis Washburn of Worcester, who 
 falls gallantly fighting in his third desperate 
 charge 274-277 
 
 The sufferings of Lee s army for lack of pro 
 visions as told by Col. Robert Renshaw of 
 Lee s staff to Chaplain Humphreys .... 277-278 
 
 Gen. A. A. Humphreys with the Second Corps 
 saves the bridge over the Appomattox that 
 Lee tries to burn after his retreating army 
 had crossed. Lee asks Grant s terms of sur 
 render, but continues his retreat. Sheridan 
 seeks to check him at Appomattox and suc 
 ceeds, capturing his supply trains. The 
 last day of the war, April 9th. Lee s sur 
 render and Grant s magnanimity. Their 
 contrasted appearance as they parted . . 279-293 
 
 The shadow cast over our joy by the assassina 
 tion of Lincoln 293-294 
 
 Tribute to Lincoln 294-296 
 
 Notes 1-16 297-340 
 
 Tribute I. At Dedication of the Monument to 
 v the Citizen Soldiers of Dorchester who died 
 for their Country 341-358 
 
 Tribute II. On Memorial Day to all who had 
 
 died for their Country 359~363 
 
 Tribute III. At Dedication of Flags to the 
 
 Spirit of the Flag s Defenders 364-368 
 
 Appendix. More intimate views of a Chap 
 lain s Life as revealed in his Diary and 
 Home Letters 369-428 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Latest Photograph of the Author . . . Frontispiece 
 
 Camp Scenes 3> 4> 7 
 
 Capt. Francis Washburn 275 
 
 Camp Quartette 303 
 
 Capt. J. Sewall Reed, Capt. Josiah S. Baldwin, 
 Maj. William H. Forbes, Chaplain Charles A. 
 Humphreys, Capt. Goodwin A. Stone. 
 
 Brevet Maj. Gen. William F. Bartlett 306 
 
 Private Walter Humphreys 308 
 
 Capt. Thomas B. Fox 315 
 
 Lieut. C. W. Amory 318 
 
 Gen. Charles R. Lowell 319 
 
 Lieut. Huntington Frothingham Wolcott 320 
 
 Lieut. Col. Caspar Crowninshield 322 
 
 Soldiers Monument, Dorchester 341 
 
FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 
 
 T^HE Civil War had already raged two te- 
 dious years before the Union cause seemed 
 so desperate that I could no longer keep from 
 enlisting in its defence. It was difficult from 
 the beginning to follow the pursuits of peace 
 while so many were giving themselves to hard 
 and perilous service in the field. But it had 
 been easy to keep the ranks full till the year 
 1863, when a succession of defeats or fruitless 
 victories checked voluntary enlistments, and 
 compelled the government to resort to drafting. 
 It was a time of great depression at the North. 
 The Emancipation Proclamation had been is 
 sued undef great complaints of an unconstitu 
 tional use of the war-powers of the government, 
 and as yet it had not begun to give any effective 
 aid to our arms. The disastrous defeat at 
 Chancellorsville, May 1st and 2d, had caused a 
 great reaction of opinion at the North towards 
 compounding a peace. We had little or no 
 
2 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 sympathy from other nations in our struggle; 
 and England from whom we had a right to 
 expect the most encouragement, especially after 
 the cause of the Union was openly identified 
 with the cause of freedom for the slave not 
 only turned to us the cold shoulder, but became 
 quite demonstrative in its sympathy with the 
 South. A month after the issuing of the Proc 
 lamation of Emancipation, the London Times 
 said: "We hold the opinion that the cause of 
 the South gallantly fighting against the cruel 
 and desolating invasion of the North, is the 
 cause of freedom." Two months later a prom 
 inent member of Parliament said publicly: 
 "We cannot help seeing that while Abraham 
 Lincoln is an incapable pretender, Jefferson 
 Davis is a bold statesman. We may well wish 
 to see the American States peacefully separate, 
 we may well wisk to see bloodshed cease and 
 peace restored, but I contend and I know 
 that the majority of thinking men in England 
 agree with me that the best method towards 
 that end will be the establishment of the com 
 plete independence of the Confederate States." 
 It was a time when every one who loved his 
 country and believed in its free institutions 
 must do what he could to sustain its armies in 
 the field; and, feeling that I might be of some 
 service in the line of my chosen profession, I 
 
iWfH 1 
 
 fcl 
 
 u j 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 3 
 
 accepted, while I was yet in the Divinity 
 School at Cambridge, the offer of a Chaplain s 
 commission from Governor Andrew, and as soon 
 as I could be ordained (Note D joined the Second 
 Massachusetts Cavalry, a regiment composed of 
 two battalions recruited in Massachusetts, and 
 one recruited in California chiefly of natives 
 of Massachusetts. Our Colonel was Charles 
 Russell Lowell of Cambridge, a graduate of 
 Harvard in the Class of 1854. He was a 
 nephew of the poet James Russell Lowell, and 
 had already seen two years of service. As 
 soon as he reached the field with his regiment 
 of Massachusetts Cavalry, he was put in com 
 mand of the brigade with which it was con 
 nected, leaving our men under the direct 
 leadership of Lieut. Col. Caspar Crowninshield 
 of Boston. When I joined the regiment in 
 August, 1863, it was brigaded with the I3th 
 and i6th New York Cavalry regiments, and 
 was, with them, doing service as an outpost 
 picket before Washington, guarding thirty or 
 forty miles of its exposed front, and con 
 stantly harassed by guerrilla raids under the 
 leadership of Col. John S. Mosby, who called 
 his followers Partisan Rangers. 
 
 Our camp was at Vienna, about fifteen miles 
 from Washington, and was surrounded with a 
 heavy abatis of felled trees branching outwards 
 
4 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 to guard against sudden attacks of guerrillas. 
 Here we spent the winter of 63 to 64, and 
 made ourselves as comfortable as we could, with 
 board floors in our wall-tents, and with brick 
 fireplaces, and with chimneys made of mud and 
 sticks (Note 2). Our chimneys were of necessity 
 so shallow that on windy days the smoke would 
 be forced in gusts down the flue into our tents, 
 and I have often been driven out into the 
 storm for self-preservation though doubtless 
 if I had stayed in I would have been preserved, 
 but only as a smoked and dried specimen of 
 suffering humanity. Still we had a great deal 
 of satisfaction in our fireplaces, and when the 
 nights were cold and clear, and the logs blazed 
 brightly, our tents often resounded with laugh 
 ter and song, and all went merry as a marriage- 
 bell (NoteS). 
 
 A Chaplain s duty is not prescribed by army 
 regulations, except so far as to require him to 
 hold service on the Sabbath when convenient, 
 and to bury the dead. But there are many 
 ways in which a Chaplain can make himself 
 useful in camp, and by alluding to some of 
 them I shall give an insight into the allevia 
 tions as well as the trials of camp life. 
 
 I felt it a pleasure as well as a duty to visit 
 the men in their tents and to encourage them 
 to come freely to mine. By the kindness of 
 
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 U k IV . C L r 
 C iv L I ( : U k I ~ 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 5 
 
 friends at home I had an excellent library of 
 two hundred volumes, gathered largely by 
 Rev. Henry W. Foote, H. C. 1858, among the 
 attendants at King s Chapel (Note 4). These kept 
 both officers and men in reading matter, and 
 lightened the tedium of many a dull winter s 
 day. Some lady friends chief among whom 
 was Mrs. John M. Forbes of Milton knit 
 several hundred cavalry mittens, especially 
 adapted for holding the bridle rein, and I dis 
 tributed them through the regiment, and they 
 saved the men from many a bite of frost, and 
 filled a want that the government did not supply. 
 Mrs. Forbes, besides keeping her own fingers 
 busy, kept six women knitting for the regi 
 ment. On January 12, 1864, I received from 
 her forty pairs of cavalry mittens, and without 
 giving notice of their arrival I gave them to 
 any who came to my tent to inquire if I had 
 "some of those warm mittens," and they were 
 all gone before night. From the same bounty 
 came knit caps to protect the head at night, 
 and these I distributed to every officer in the 
 regiment. And besides these gifts Mrs. Forbes 
 supplies of delicacies for the sick in our brigade 
 hospital were unstinted. 
 
 Besides being thus the almoner of the over 
 flowing charities of friends at home, the Chap 
 lain could often serve the men by acquainting 
 
6 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 these same friends with the needs of the soldiers 
 families. Thus a word to Rev. Edward Everett 
 Hale used to send at once his most efficient 
 lady visitors to the homes of any of my men 
 whose families in Boston needed aid. I could 
 draw at sight on that rich bank of sympathy 
 and helpfulness. And so elsewhere, the need 
 had only to be spoken and the help was at hand. 
 As we were very near to Washington, I could 
 also send money home for the soldiers, and 
 after pay-day I have sometimes taken to the 
 office of the Adams Express Company in that 
 city more than fifteen hundred dollars to be 
 scattered in small sums among the soldiers 
 families. And oftentimes, when pay-day was 
 delayed, the men would freely come to the 
 Chaplain, and the loan of a few dollars would 
 frequently relieve distress and always make 
 the men more contented with their lot. I used 
 to have several hundred dollars thus floating 
 round in the regiment, and, though much of it 
 got water-logged and sunk never to return, I 
 felt that it had done good service. 
 
 There were so many Californians in my regi 
 ment who had a great admiration for Rev. 
 Thomas Starr King and attributed to his 
 patriotic devotion and eloquent appeals the 
 keeping of California in the Union, that I 
 ordered from Black the best Boston photog- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 7 
 
 rapher in the sixties several dozen copies from 
 his negative of King, and distributed them 
 through the companies from California. 
 
 A very important labor that usually fell to 
 the Chaplain was to be postmaster, to receive 
 and distribute the mails, and to frank letters 
 for any who could not prepay them. I also 
 furnished, freely, paper and envelopes to any 
 who applied for them, thinking it the best 
 service I could do to encourage the men to 
 keep up a frequent correspondence with their 
 homes. 
 
 The Chaplain s ear became naturally a con 
 venient receptacle for all sorts of complaints, 
 chief among which were those that grew out of 
 the chafing under the severities of military dis 
 cipline. It was so hard for a freeman nourished 
 in independence to submit absolutely to the will 
 of another perhaps no wiser than he; to make 
 himself part of a machine without questioning 
 any of its adaptations or uses! The Chaplain 
 could often by words of counsel or explanation 
 allay such discontent which frequently in the 
 weariness of camp life festers into insubor 
 dination. 
 
 And again the Chaplain kept always a kind 
 of confessional, at which men might unburden 
 their anxieties and doubts, and pour the story 
 of their lives into sympathetic ears. These 
 
8 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 stories were often more entertaining than 
 books, and stranger than fiction. Some told 
 of hairbreadth escapes in rights with Indians on 
 the border; others, of adventures among the 
 wild islanders of the South Seas. There were 
 trappers from the Rocky Mountains, who had 
 had bears for pets; tall lumbermen from Maine, 
 who had dared the foaming rapids and the 
 raging torrent; old sailors, who had played 
 with the sea-lion and sported with the storm; 
 rough-bearded miners, who knew all the tricks 
 of the gambler, and were familiar with the code 
 of the duellist. One young man revealed to 
 me this strange experience: He was born in 
 Massachusetts, but before he was fifteen he 
 thought he would shift for himself, and ran 
 away and settled in Columbia, S.C., working 
 in a gun-factory and joining a volunteer bat 
 tery. When the war broke out looking upon 
 it as a kind of holiday frolic, and loving ad 
 venture he followed his battery to Charleston, 
 where his services were very much in demand 
 as there were few skilful gunners among the 
 Charlestonians. When it was known that the 
 " Star of the West" was coming to bring supplies 
 to Fort Sumter, he was recalled from his own 
 to take charge of the Cummings Point battery, 
 and trained the gun that made the ship lower 
 its flag. This was the first time that the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 9 
 
 United States flag had been lowered to a hostile 
 shot since the War of 1812, and, though Edward 
 Ruffin of Virginia had been granted the privi 
 lege of discharging the gun, strange to tell, it 
 was charged and trained by a Massachusetts 
 man. He afterwards joined the Second South 
 Carolina Infantry, and was ordered to Virginia, 
 and helped to drive the Fourth Ohio out of the 
 very place where we were then encamped. But 
 when it came to meeting Massachusetts regi 
 ments and perhaps his own brothers in the fight, 
 he felt the stronger drawing of the old home 
 ties, and deserted and came within our lines at 
 Alexandria and was now fighting under the old 
 flag. 
 
 The recounting of these and like experiences 
 was not only intensely interesting, but offered 
 many opportunities for the expression of help 
 ful sympathy and timely counsel. 
 
 But the most important of the Chaplain s 
 duties were in the hospital. It was a delight 
 here also to be the almoner of friends at home, 
 and of the Sanitary Commission, and to dis 
 tribute delicacies among the patients to relieve 
 the dreary monotony of the regular rations. 
 Some ladies at home, among whom again Mrs. 
 J. M. Forbes was chief, kept me supplied with 
 hollow circular pillows, stuffed with the soft 
 gossamer threads of the milkweed, to relieve 
 
10 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 wounds and bed-sores. I had also a great 
 variety of games and puzzles which were a 
 great attraction to the convalescents (Note 5). 
 My books were a constant delight to the 
 patients, and in the severer cases of sickness I 
 could often give comfort by reading myself. 
 I was once reading Whittier s "Pipes at Luck- 
 now" to a Scotchman named McFarland, a 
 patient in the hospital, thinking to please him 
 with a little of his native dialect, when he inter 
 rupted me with the exclamation, "I was there. " 
 Then he told me that he was one of Havelock s 
 troops who carried relief to the besieged British 
 garrison, and he had heard that "dearest of all 
 music that the pipes at Lucknow played." 
 Another patient wanted to read "Robinson 
 Crusoe" because he himself had been on the 
 island of Juan Fernandez, where the adventures 
 of Alexander Selkirk are supposed to have 
 furnished much of the material for the story of 
 "Robinson Crusoe." 
 
 Of religious books, I furnished each patient 
 with what he desired thus distributing Cath 
 olic and Episcopal prayer-books and Methodist 
 hymn-books, and supplying to Frenchmen, 
 Italians, and Germans the New Testament in 
 their native tongues. With the foreigners in 
 the hospital I was greatly assisted by Mrs. 
 Josephine Shaw Lowell, the wife of my Colonel, 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 1 1 
 
 Charles Russell Lowell, the brigade commander, 
 and sister of my classmate Robert Gould Shaw 
 (Note 6). Mrs. Lowell was spending the winter 
 in camp and visited the patients very fre 
 quently, and she delighted the Frenchmen, 
 Italians, and Germans by conversing with them 
 in their own languages, that so vividly recalled 
 their early homes. Her presence in camp had 
 a refining influence upon officers and men, and 
 in the hospital, by her tender sympathies and 
 beautiful bearing and sweet simplicity, she 
 was like an angel visitant. She often assisted 
 in writing letters for the disabled soldiers; and, 
 when I sought to give comfort to the dying, her 
 presence soothed the pangs of parting with a 
 restful consciousness of woman s faithful 
 watching and a mother s tender love. 
 
 "Whispered low the dying soldier, pressed her hand and 
 
 faintly smiled: 
 Was that pitying face his mother s? Did she watch 
 
 beside her child? 
 Every voiceless word with meaning her woman s heart 
 
 supplied, 
 With her kiss upon his forehead, Mother! murmured 
 
 he and died." 
 
 At such times I have felt most vividly what 
 a delightful trait in woman s character is this 
 love of serving others. What a blessing and 
 
12 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 joy was woman s nursing to the sick and 
 wounded soldiers! 
 
 "Not wholly lost, O Father, is this evil world of ours; 
 Upward through its blood and ashes spring afresh the 
 
 Eden flowers; 
 From its smoking hell of battle Love and Pity send their 
 
 prayer, 
 And still thy white-winged angels hover dimly in our air." 
 
 The chief of the specified duties of the Chap 
 lain to hold religious services was the one it 
 was hardest to fulfil, by reason of the diffi 
 culty of finding any convenient and comfort 
 able place of meeting. I once succeeded in 
 getting a hospital-tent for that purpose, and 
 with the help of two of our men who had been 
 carpenters I made some benches for the com 
 fort of my audience, but before Sunday came 
 the tent was moved away to be used for a 
 court-martial, and I never recovered it. Once 
 I took my colored servant and my little hatchet, 
 and went out at nine o clock Sunday morning, 
 cleared away the underbrush from a small am 
 phitheatre in a neighboring wood, and at ten 
 o clock the chief bugler sounded the church call 
 at the camp and then again at the place of 
 meeting. Somehow it did not seem strange, 
 but the most natural place in which to worship. 
 "The groves were God s first temples." The 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 13 
 
 service was as follows: I. I repeated the sen 
 tence "The Lord is in his holy temple; let all 
 the earth keep silence before him." II. After 
 a few moments of silent prayer I repeated the 
 first stanza of Watt s hymn " From all that dwell 
 below the skies/ then led the singing of it to the 
 tune "Old Hundred," in which all joined. 
 III. Scripture reading Matt. vii. 7-27. IV. 
 Prayer. V. Address on three things that 
 abide Truth, Goodness, God. VI. Wesley s 
 hymn "Love divine, all love excelling." VII. 
 Benediction. The whole service took less 
 than half an hour. The audience stood for the 
 singing and benediction, but sat on the ground 
 for the rest of the service. All uncovered dur 
 ing the prayer and benediction. This was my 
 first and last service in that place. The weather 
 was never again such that I could use it. Then 
 I resorted to a barn near the camp, the auditors 
 sitting on the beams and floor, the band ac 
 companying the singing, and the cattle filling 
 in the pauses with their lowing. But even with 
 the shelter of the barn it was often too cold for 
 the band to play, and we were as likely to be 
 out on a raid Sunday as other days. Still, with 
 all these inconveniences and interruptions, the 
 simple presence of the Chaplain made Sunday 
 a little different from other days, and frequently 
 the bugle-call to worship revived memories of 
 
14 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 the church bells at home. My three services 
 on Sunday in the three wards of the brigade 
 hospital were seldom interrupted. As I fin 
 ished each service it was very grateful to me to 
 hear the "Thank you" gasped by the feeble 
 patients on their various couches. It was a 
 great joy to pour even one drop of comfort into 
 the bitter cup that so many had to drain who 
 threw in their lot with their country s peril. 
 Sometimes besides the morning service in the 
 barn and the three services in the hospital there 
 was a regimental service at dress parade in the 
 afternoon, and frequently a soldier s funeral 
 added to the solemnity of the Sabbath hours. 
 Union and Confederate were alike in their hos 
 pital treatment and their funeral honors, and I 
 remember one mother of a Confederate coming 
 to get some of the earth from his grave, vividly 
 revealing that there were bleeding hearts and 
 sacred devotions at the South as well as at the 
 North. As to my work as a Chaplain, I find 
 the fullest expression of it in a letter which I 
 wrote from camp to Rev. Edward H. Hall, 
 who had taken part in my ordination. This is 
 the letter. It was returned to me after his 
 death and more than fifty years after it was 
 written, having been found among his cherished 
 papers. 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 15 
 
 CAVALRY CAMP, 
 VIENNA, VA., April 28, 64. 
 Rev. EDWARD H. HALL: 
 
 Dear Friend, Your very kind letter of Feb. 4th was 
 received, and would have been answered promptly but 
 that the disaster to my regiment in the skirmish at 
 Drainesville broke up all my plans and took me to Dor 
 chester with Mrs. Reed, wife of the captain who was 
 killed. I have not felt like answering it till now, because 
 I have been diffident as to my ability to relate to you any 
 experience of interest. I am now compelled by the 
 necessity of the time to write to you at once however 
 poor my letter may be. For the armies are beginning 
 to move, and we must be ready to move at a moment s 
 notice, and I may not have another chance to write for 
 a long time. Burnside s army corps passed through here 
 yesterday on its way to Leesburg and the gaps in the 
 Blue Ridge, and everything looks like active campaigning. 
 God speed the right. 
 
 You spoke in your letter very kindly of my Visitation 
 part. It was the open expression of my deepest convic 
 tions; convictions which had been rather indefinite in 
 my mind for years, and had been seeking expression. I 
 knew that I should write on that subject more than a 
 year before Visitation, and the thought of the whole year 
 had been turned in that direction. I tell you this that 
 you may know how inadequate the expression was to 
 the thought in my soul. I am glad of your sympathy in 
 these feelings. I think it is to be the work of the rising 
 generation of liberal thinkers in some measure to free 
 human thought from the bondage to the letter which 
 now cripples it, and to turn it towards those inner icve- 
 lations where God speaks directly to the soul; to unfetter 
 human aspirations, to give dignity to human feelings and 
 
16 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 sanctity to human hopes; in a word, to find God in human 
 ity rather than in the leaves of a book. How absurd to 
 stop with the book when it is itself only an incomplete 
 record of human struggles and aspirations towards God! 
 I believe, however, that we should have nothing to com 
 plain of if the Bible was regarded in this light by every 
 one; for thus interpreted it is an all-sufficient guide in the 
 path of right, and an all-powerful incentive in the fulfil 
 ment of duty. 
 
 You enquire as to my method of labor. I have very 
 little method, but from necessity more than from choice. 
 If there is any single rule that runs through all my work 
 it is this to be kind to all. If this seems to be a low 
 aim for one who was ordained to speak eternal truths, my 
 only apology is my youth. Exhortation and counsel are 
 more fitted for maturity and age. I think my work will 
 be surer if I do not assume any premature dignity or 
 unwarranted authority, but trust to the pervasive influ 
 ence of charity and love. I would rather have men say 
 of me: "I wonder what faith he belongs to. It must be 
 pretty near the right one, he is such a nice fellow," than 
 that they should say, "Well, our Chaplain made out a 
 pretty strong case for his belief; you could hardly help 
 believing that what he said was true." I prefer to work 
 by my life than by my speech; I rely more on the little 
 kindnesses, attentions, and words of cheer of every day 
 than on Sunday preaching, or week-day advice and 
 counsel, though I do not neglect the latter, nor consciously 
 undervalue them. The work of some ministers is like the 
 sunlight with healing in its beams and nourishment and 
 strength for every plant and tender herb that comes 
 within the scope of its influences. The work of others is 
 like the burning fiery furnace seven times heated mould 
 ing everything to its own will. My aim is to be like the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 17 
 
 former. The routine of my labor is like this: I hold a 
 service every Sunday morning in a barn floor near by, to 
 which any one is free to come; there is no compulsion. 
 I do not have a large audience, as I have never made it a 
 special aim to increase it, I am so diffident of any ability 
 in this line, or, I should say, so confident of my inability. 
 I may say this my services are very interesting to those 
 who have any appreciation of religious duty and any taste 
 for religious services. My aim in preaching is to elevate 
 rather than to convert. I appeal to what is good and true 
 in my auditors. If any are not already turned towards 
 the good and the true, I suppose with them my preaching 
 is vain, and I frankly acknowledge my weakness in this 
 direction. I have the help of a good brass band in the 
 service, and oftentimes the exercises have an unwonted 
 solemnity with that help. I believe music may be made 
 the handmaid of religion. I always speak without notes 
 though never without full preparation, and never more 
 than fifteen minutes. I use J. G. Forman s little hymn 
 and service book for my introductory sentences and my 
 hymns. We sing together one hymn always. The little 
 interruptions (from the basement) of cows mooing, horses 
 neighing, and dogs fighting, do not trouble us much. I 
 have succeeded thus much at least in making the men 
 feel that there is a deep and solemn reality in religion 
 whether they appreciate what it is or not. After the 
 regimental service I go to the brigade hospital and hold a 
 service in one or another of the wards, and visit all the 
 wards, speaking to every patient. This is all the regular 
 Sabbath work. The remainder of the day is like the rest 
 of the week. The week-days are spent in visiting the 
 hospital, caring for the mail, and receiving callers, the 
 latter taking up the longest time. I do not make many 
 calls on the men in their quarters; in military life it has 
 
1 8 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 too much the appearance of intrusion. The men do not 
 expect it and are seldom prepared for it. But they call 
 freely on me, bringing their complaints, or revealing their 
 experiences, which are often intensely interesting. I 
 have had an ample library all winter, and an unlimited 
 number of games of various kinds. I have kept the 
 men supplied with stamps even when they could not pay 
 for them. I have sent to Washington daily by mail- 
 carriers for little things that the men have wanted. The 
 only general result that I have seen from my labor is 
 that there is a little less open profanity and a great deal 
 less complaining than when I first came. The results in 
 individual cases of course I cannot measure. I do not 
 believe in any adequate gage of moral influence like that 
 which is flaunted before our eyes by evangelical sectarians 
 in statistics of conversions and degrees of conversion. 
 The results of my work if they could be chronicled would 
 be a little more kindness of heart in one, a little more 
 elevation of purpose in another; a little more faith here, 
 a little more charity there; here more reverence and there 
 more truth. I trust that some such germs of good will 
 grow and thrive in my daily path. 
 
 You ask about my relation to the officers. They are 
 of the pleasantest kind. I have their respect and so far 
 as I know their confidence. I have never asked anything 
 of any of them that they have not readily granted. I 
 am as a brother among them, not assuming any dignity 
 from my profession except when I speak on Sundays. 
 I am too young to rebuke them, too inexperienced to 
 advise them unasked; but when on the Sabbath I speak 
 in the name of my office, in the name of truth and of God, 
 then I can do anything. 
 
 I am not much on tract-distributing; how was it with 
 you? I half suspect that this is a failing in me; yet it 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 19 
 
 goes against my feelings unless a very plain way is open 
 for it. I have never held a prayer-meeting, partly 
 because I had no place, partly because I saw little advan 
 tage to come of it. Of late I have been trying to serve 
 the Lord on horseback, following the men into the field, 
 lying at night under the tented sky, which at this season, 
 I assure you, is not so comfortable as canvas, charging 
 with them into the ranks of the enemy, and sharing all 
 the dangers and exposure of active service. I carry no 
 arms, but try by a cheerful courage to add a little to the 
 effectiveness of those who do. Please let me hear from 
 you. 
 
 C. A. HUMPHREYS, 
 
 Chap. 2d Mass. Cav, 
 
 The hardest duty that ever fell to my lot 
 as Chaplain was to prepare a deserter to die. 
 He was one of our own regiment, and born in 
 Massachusetts, but had early in life gone to 
 California, where he led a wild and reckless 
 career till he enlisted and came East. Now 
 he had yielded to the fascinations of a Southern 
 girl and been induced to desert, and was 
 captured while fighting against us with a band 
 of guerrillas. This offence was of course un 
 pardonable in martial law; yet, as he chose me 
 for his counsel at the trial by drum-head court- 
 martial, I pleaded, in extenuation, his youth 
 and the blandishments of the Southern beauty, 
 but to no effect. Perhaps one reason why I did 
 not win the case was that the opposing counsel 
 
20 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 was Lewis S. Dabney, whose legal acumen 
 made him then Judge Advocate, and later made 
 him one of the leaders of the Bar in Boston. 
 Still I had to admit in my own mind that in 
 the existing military situation the sentence of 
 death must be pronounced. The poor victim 
 chose to lean on my arm as he walked to execu 
 tion behind his own coffin borne by his old 
 messmates, while the band marched beside 
 playing a funeral dirge. And he leaned still 
 more closely on my faith that, though his coun 
 try could not forgive him, beset as she was with 
 enemies, God would forgive if he was truly 
 penitent; and the thought appealed to the 
 native nobleness of his nature, and awoke in 
 him the desire even then to redeem himself 
 and to serve the cause that he had betrayed. 
 And the more he revolved this in his mind, the 
 more he felt the inspiration of noble feeling, 
 and, being permitted to speak a few last words 
 to his fellow-soldiers who were drawn up on 
 three sides of a hollow square to witness the 
 execution, he said: "Comrades! I want to 
 acknowledge that I am guilty and that my 
 punishment is just. But I want also that you 
 should know that I did not desert because I 
 lost faith in our cause. I believe we are on 
 the right side, and I think it will succeed. But 
 take warning from my example, and whatever 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 21 
 
 comes do not desert the old flag for which I am 
 proud to die." Everything being now ready, 
 I offered prayer with him and commended him 
 to the mercy of God; then I bound the hand 
 kerchief over his eyes, and at his request asked 
 the marksmen to aim steadily and at his heart. 
 Then shaking hands with him in farewell, I 
 said, "Now die like a man." He sat down 
 upon the foot of his coffin in perfect composure, 
 and said, "I am ready." Fronting him were 
 six men in line, with carbines, five of which 
 were loaded. Each man could persuade him 
 self that his own carbine was the unloaded one, 
 and so was relieved from the otherwise neces 
 sary conclusion that he had shot his fellow. 
 The sergeant in command of the shooting- 
 squad gave the order "Ready! Aim! Fire!" 
 and the deserter in one moment was dead. 
 The lesson of his punishment had never to be 
 repeated in our brigade. 
 
 All this was Sunday morning. I did not 
 feel like holding a service after it, and thought 
 the ceremony of execution had preached more 
 effectively than / could. One of the members 
 of E Company, to which the deserter had 
 belonged, said to me, "I wonder how you got 
 enough influence over him to lead him to de 
 clare that he died believing our cause was just." 
 I replied, "It was not 7 that did it but the 
 
22 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 awful presence of death." That made him see 
 clearly the truth and his own terrible mistake. 
 I doubt not that the intense self-examination 
 and marvellous insight of his last hours influ 
 enced his character more than any other hours 
 of his life, indeed more than whole years of 
 thoughtless wandering and heedless sin. I 
 was glad that I could induce him to keep up 
 such good courage and die in so true a spirit, 
 but hope I shall never have to witness such 
 another scene. 
 
 Perhaps harder than this duty of attending 
 the execution was the duty of writing of it to 
 the deserter s mother. But I could speak so 
 sincerely in praise of her son s brave ending 
 after his full repentance that the hard duty was 
 lightened, and I doubt not she cherished with 
 a forgiving affection the little tokens of his 
 remembrance which he asked me to send. 
 
 It was a great comfort while engaged in these 
 difficult and oftentimes discouraging labors of 
 a chaplain s life to get cheering letters from 
 friends at home. Among these I prize most 
 highly one from Rev. James Walker, ex-presi 
 dent of Harvard College, in which he wrote: 
 
 You have often heard me say how little confidence I 
 have in the usefulness of chaplains, taken as they rise. 
 It is not enough that their heart is in the work; they must 
 have a much larger share of practical sense than com- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 23 
 
 monly falls to the lot of ministers, to be able to adjust 
 themselves to their new and strange relations, or make 
 much of their anomalous parish. Still I have never had 
 any fear as to your success. I arn sure you will leave 
 untried no means of making officers and men feel that 
 you can be serviceable to them in many ways. Ours, 
 you know, is a profession which, unlike law or medicine, 
 must first make men feel the want of what we can do 
 before we can do it. Meanwhile you must not give up, 
 or lose heart, if in stormy weather, or a dark night, or a 
 hard chase to no purpose, you sometimes do hear a trooper 
 swear. Believe that a quiet, persistent, tender fidelity 
 always wins the day. 
 
 While you are serving the Lord on horseback I sup 
 pose you sometimes turn back your thoughts to those 
 of us who are trying to serve him in our studies. I ven 
 ture to send you three copies of my Address to the 
 Alumni. You can give the surplus to any Cambridge 
 men who care to read them; or you may use them to kindle 
 your camp-fires. They are not very inflammable, but 
 they are very dry. 
 
 Thus far my poor lame fingers have been tolerably 
 submissive in holding the pen; but they are beginning 
 to be mutinous, and I must, therefore, conclude by 
 assuring you that I am, with much regard, 
 
 Very truly and affectionately yours, 
 
 JAMES WALKER." 
 
 Now let us leave the camp and go out on a 
 raid after guerrillas; for I wish to exhibit all 
 sides of a soldier s life, and this was our fre 
 quent occupation for a whole year of our service. 
 
24 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 I will select one that we made only a few days 
 before the grand movement of the Army of the 
 Potomac across the Rapidan. It was doubt 
 less a preparatory reconnoissance to make it 
 certain that there was no especial danger to 
 Washington in Grant s uncovering its front as 
 he was about to do. 
 
 On the morning of April 18, 1864, while I 
 was writing in my tent, I heard the bugle-call 
 "Boots and Saddles," and learned that a large 
 detachment of the brigade was just starting on 
 a scout. Getting permission to go, I had two 
 days rations and three days forage put up at 
 once and was ready in about ten minutes, 
 and by a short gallop caught up with the column 
 and joined Colonel Lowell, who was riding at 
 the head. With him was the noted traveller 
 Herman Melville, who had charmed all lovers 
 of the wild and picturesque by his accounts of 
 his adventures among the savage islanders in 
 the Pacific Seas in the books "Omoo" and 
 "Typee," which I had in my camp library, 
 and who shared with Richard H. Dana the hon 
 orable distinction of a pioneer in the work of 
 lifting into popular literature the life of the 
 merchant seaman. He was out now to learn 
 something of the soldier s life and to see a little 
 campaigning with his own eyes, preparatory 
 to the writing of the book which appeared two 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 25 
 
 years later, entitled "Battle Pieces and Aspects 
 of War" (Note?). 
 
 We rode till four o clock, stopping every hour 
 and a half to rest the horses a few minutes, and 
 adjust the saddles to prevent galling. At four 
 we stopped at Ball s Mill on Goose Creek to feed. 
 A cavalryman always attends to his horse 
 first; so I took the saddle from Jaques whom 
 my fellow-officer Lewis S. Dabney very dis 
 respectfully called the "Parson s Old Cob"- 
 and let him roll to refresh himself, and gave him 
 a small feed of oats. Then I cooked some ham 
 on the end of a stick over a fire of cornstalks, and 
 sat down on a stone, and with dry bread made 
 my dinner. At five we started again and 
 crossed Goose Creek, which, though swollen 
 so that a man could not stand in the current, 
 was just fordable for cavalry. In attempting 
 to keep my feet out of the water I carelessly 
 struck my spurs into my horse, and for a few 
 moments he plunged and dashed around in a 
 way that threatened immediate and complete 
 immersion to both horse and rider. But I 
 got through safely, and at dusk we approached 
 the city of Leesburg, the hot-bed of secession- 
 ism in those parts. It was about twenty-five 
 miles from our camp at Vienna, and no Union 
 troops had visited it that season. We ex 
 pected that it would be full of Confederates; 
 
26 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 and surely enough, when the advanced guard 
 approached they were fired upon, and word 
 was sent back to us that the enemy was drawn 
 up in line in the woods just before us. Colonel 
 Lowell, without waiting to ascertain their num 
 bers, at once ordered the charge, and the whole 
 column immediately broke into a trot and then 
 into a gallop. It was my first taste of the in 
 toxication of battle. I had often felt the charm 
 of adventure as we scouted frequently under 
 the starry canopy of night or when the moon 
 lit our way, and Bryant s "Song of Marion s 
 Men" came to mind and we felt that the Revo 
 lutionary hero had a worthy successor in our 
 Colonel Lowell: 
 
 "Well knows the fair and friendly moon 
 
 The band that Marion leads, 
 The glitter of their carbines, 
 
 The scampering of their steeds. 
 Tis life to guide the fiery barb 
 
 Across the moonlight plain, 
 Tis life to feel the night-wind 
 
 That lifts his tossing mane." 
 
 Although I had no love of war and no arms 
 with which to fight, yet as I rode along with the 
 column I felt also something of the fascination 
 of danger, and could partly appreciate the spirit 
 of the old cavaliers as they sung: 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 27 
 
 "0 for a steed of matchless speed, 
 
 And sword of metal keen! 
 All else to noble hearts is dross, 
 
 All else on earth is mean. 
 The neighing of the war-horse proud, 
 
 The rolling of the drum, 
 The clangor of the trumpet loud 
 
 Are sounds from heaven that come. 
 And oh! the thundering press of knights, 
 
 When as their war-cries swell, 
 May tole from heaven an angel bright 
 
 Or rouse a fiend from hell. 
 
 "Then mount, then mount, brave gallants all, 
 
 And don your helms amain, 
 Death s couriers Fame and Honor call 
 
 Us to the field again. 
 No woman s tears shall fill our eyes 
 
 When the sword-hilt s in our hand, 
 Heart-whole, we ll part, and nowhit sigh 
 
 For the fairest of the land. 
 Let piping swain and craven wight 
 
 Thus weep and puling cry, 
 Our business is like men to fight, 
 
 And hero-like to die." 
 
 It was very exciting to hear the commands 
 "Steady! Wait for orders! By platoons left, 
 gallop, march ! By fours, march ! " all shouted 
 at the top of the voice, above the noise of the 
 column, itself almost deafening with the clatter 
 ing of the sabres and the thumping of the 
 horses hoofs upon the stony pike. At such 
 
28 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 times one is borne along in the rush and tumult 
 of the onset, and can hardly think of fear. 
 
 "When banners are waving 
 
 And sabres are glancing, 
 When captains are shouting 
 
 And war-horses prancing, 
 When cannon are roaring 
 
 And swift bullets flying, 
 He that would honor win 
 
 Must not then fear dying. 
 
 "Though shafts fly so thick 
 
 That it seems to be snowing, 
 Though streamlets with blood, 
 
 More than water, are flowing, 
 Though with sabre and bullet 
 
 The bravest are dying, 
 We ll think of our homes, but 
 
 We ll ne er think of flying." 
 
 The first squadron was dashing on with drawn 
 sabres, the rest were holding their carbines in 
 their hands ready to fire. Nothing could stand 
 against the fury of the charge. The Confed 
 erates fired a few shots, then scattered through 
 the woods like leaves before the wind, and we 
 dashed on into Leesburg. But the first shot 
 had given the alarm; and with all our search 
 ing we could not find a graycoat. We re 
 mained, that night, just outside the town, but 
 did not dare to unsaddle nor to light fires, as 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 29 
 
 we were in the heart of the enemy s country, 
 and the frequent signal-rockets from the hill 
 tops in front of us showed that the Confeder 
 ates were gathering their clans. The night 
 was very cold, too cold to sleep; and besides 
 there were several attacks upon our pickets 
 that brought us to our feet and made us stand 
 to horse till the danger was past. It was about 
 as easy to stand as to lie down that night. If 
 we lay down, it was at our horses feet with 
 the bridle rein in our hands; and not to speak 
 of their uneasy stamping with their iron shoes 
 upon the ground which was our bed, if 
 they got lonesome they would poke us with 
 their noses, or if they got tired standing 
 they would lie down at our side either of 
 which movements was, to say the least, not 
 conducive to sleep. It seems a wonder that 
 crowded together as we were, the horses stand 
 ing in column four-abreast in a narrow road 
 none of us were trampled under their feet. 
 But the faithful animals seemed to appreciate 
 the situation, and when they moved, paid due 
 regard to their sleeping masters. 
 
 In the early morning, small scouting parties 
 were sent out in various directions to scour the 
 woods and pick up any of Mosby s men that 
 might be hiding in the vicinity. In a short 
 time they brought in one officer and ten men, 
 
30 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 all mounted which was quite a catch, con 
 sidering the wooded nature of the country and 
 the open chances of escape. At ten o clock we 
 gave up all expectation of finding any more 
 guerrillas in that region, and started back, 
 recrossed Goose Creek, and went into camp for 
 rest and refreshment. While we were quietly 
 dining at four o clock, a friendly citizen brought 
 in word that Mosby and one man had just 
 passed through a field not two miles away from 
 us. It seemed like searching for a needle in a 
 haystack to chase Mosby in that hilly forest- 
 country, yet Colonel Lowell made the attempt. 
 "Boots and Saddles" was at once sounded, 
 and, with abbreviated dinners, in a few min 
 utes we were off. A lieutenant and ten men 
 were sent to try to get on Mosby s trail, while 
 the main column took a direct line across the 
 country, if possible to head him off. Flankers 
 were thrown out a distance of half a mile on 
 either side of the advancing column, that we 
 might sweep as wide an extent of country as 
 possible. We struck for the pike that runs 
 through Middleburg to Mosby s headquarters 
 near Rectortown, but found, when we reached 
 it, that Mosby had passed over it three-quar 
 ters of an hour before. That was aggravating 
 enough; yet there was nothing to be done 
 but to turn back to Ball s Mill and go into 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 31 
 
 camp for the night. Now, for the first time 
 since we started out, we had an opportunity to 
 boil coffee and make ourselves comfortable with 
 fires, and to unsaddle our horses and give them 
 a refreshing rest. I made a luxurious bed of 
 boards and dried leaves for Colonel Lowell and 
 myself, and we lay down for the night, after 
 the Colonel had sent a dismounted party 
 towards Leesburg to take the city by surprise. 
 He had learned by an intercepted letter that a 
 Confederate soldier was to be married that 
 evening in Leesburg, and that the beauty and 
 chivalry of the country round might be ex 
 pected; and, though he did not care to forbid 
 the banns nor to start a frown on the face of 
 beauty, he did wish, and it was his business, to 
 gobble as many of the chivalry as possible. 
 When this party got in sight of Leesburg, they 
 could see the house brilliantly illuminated, and 
 they hurried forward, but were too late, as 
 the crowd was already dispersing and making 
 a noisy demonstration in the street as if the 
 apple-jack had flowed too freely; and as our 
 men approached, they were fired into and two 
 men killed and three wounded. Our men 
 returned the fire, but to no effect, as the Con 
 federates immediately scattered. The dead 
 and wounded were left in the house where the 
 marriage had been celebrated, and the rest 
 
32 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 returned to our night encampment at two 
 o clock with the sad news. At the earliest 
 dawn we saddled up, and, taking an ambu 
 lance, crossed the ford and went once more to 
 the city. I went with the surgeon to the house 
 where the wounded men were lying, and helped 
 bind up their wounds and put them into the 
 ambulance. The landlord of the house was a 
 gentleman with Southern hospitality and po 
 liteness, and kept a fine hotel adorned with 
 elegant paintings. He had given every pos 
 sible attention to the wounded, and proclaimed 
 himself a Union man, and told us that if our 
 party had been a half-hour earlier the previous 
 night they might have bagged a good number 
 of Pickett s and Mosby s men. I never heard 
 again from this wedding till twenty-six years 
 later, when on a visit to Fortress Monroe, I 
 was introduced to a beautiful Southern girl 
 who was visiting her brother, a lieutenant on 
 duty at the Fort, and learned from them that 
 they were from Leesburg and that their father 
 had been a Confederate soldier, and, from the 
 date and other circumstances of his marriage, 
 I could have no doubt that it was his wedding 
 that our forces came so near disturbing. It 
 was a happy sign of a restored national Union 
 that the children of that marriage were as 
 warmly patriotic as any of us, and one of them 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 33 
 
 was an officer enlisted in its defence. A 
 quarter of a century had brought round this 
 marvellous change. 
 
 After our sad experience in Leesburg there 
 was nothing for us to do but to turn homeward, 
 which we did at ten o clock, stopping, as soon 
 as we crossed Goose Creek and were safe from 
 attack, to feed our horses and dine. After 
 dinner a ride of twenty miles brought us to our 
 camp at Vienna, where we were welcomed with 
 patriotic music by the band, and were glad 
 enough to get a good supper and rest. We 
 had been out three days and two nights, and 
 I had slept only two hours, and was so stiff 
 from a cold caught the first night that it seemed 
 as if I could count by its special ache each muscle 
 in my body. But I had enjoyed very much 
 the opportunities for seeing the country, and of 
 talking with officers and men as we rode along. 
 This was pastoral visiting under difficulties, 
 but it was not to be neglected. Especially did 
 I enjoy discussions with Colonel Lowell on 
 metaphysics and mental philosophy subjects 
 in which he delighted and which now were the 
 more fascinating as they were the farthest re 
 moved from the work which most employed our 
 thoughts. 
 
 The experiences to which I have as yet alluded 
 were connected with operations and movements 
 
34 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 that very slightly affected the main currents 
 of the war, but which are worthy of note as 
 giving interior views of the soldier s life in camp 
 and hospital, and a glance at the difficulties 
 and dangers of guerrilla warfare. 
 
 We will now pass in hasty review some of the 
 grander and more decisive operations of armies, 
 and follow the varying fortunes of the Union 
 cause in Virginia through the closing year of 
 the war from the Wilderness to Appomattox. 
 
 The spring of 1864 opened upon the armies 
 of the Union and the Confederacy grimly 
 watching each other from opposite sides of the 
 Rapidan. Lee held the south bank of the river, 
 his headquarters at Clark s Mountain, and his 
 forces distributed along the railroad to Orange 
 Court House and Gordonsville. Meade held 
 the north bank, with his headquarters at Cul- 
 peper, and his forces distributed along the 
 Orange and Alexandria railroad from the Rap 
 idan back to the Rappahannock. There these 
 two armies stretched their sinewy lengths like 
 mighty wrestlers after many a fearful grapple 
 lying prone upon the ground yet watching for 
 the moment when they must join in a last 
 decisive struggle, each aware of the other s 
 strength, and both eager to improve every of 
 fered advantage. Up to this time fickle Suc 
 cess had alike encouraged and then discouraged 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 35 
 
 the two champions as she led now one and now 
 the other to delusive victories; and while the 
 Union forces could boast a Malvern, an Antie- 
 tam, and a Gettysburg, the Confederates took 
 heart from the fields of Manassas, the heights of 
 Fredericksburg, and the wilds of Chancellors- 
 ville. Still, though each army could thus boast 
 its equal triumphs, the resources that were 
 available for future successes were very un 
 equally divided. The early enthusiasm of both 
 sides had cooled, but it left to the North the 
 energy of patience fed from a perennial foun 
 tain of moral renovation in the justice of their 
 cause, while to the South was left only the en 
 ergy of despair fed by the fictitious fear of losing 
 everything they held dear, with the downfall 
 of the Confederate Government. The latter 
 energy is fitful, though it can, and did, inspire 
 to the most intense devotion; the former is 
 steady, but faithful to the end. No one could 
 have more completely embodied the desperate 
 determination of the South than General Lee, 
 who now with unflinching resolution faced the 
 fearful odds that must of necessity bring dis 
 aster and defeat to the cause he championed. 
 And no one could have more completely em 
 bodied the Northern energy of patience than 
 General Grant, who had just been raised to the 
 supreme command of all the armies of the United 
 
36 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 States in order to bring them into mutual co 
 operation, and who now gave his personal super 
 vision only to the Army of the Potomac. For 
 to this was assigned the most momentous 
 task of the campaign to dislodge and if pos 
 sible defeat the foremost army of the Confed 
 eracy under its foremost military chief, who still, 
 after three years of terrible combat, covered 
 Richmond, and thus held the prize for which 
 the Army of the Potomac had so heroically 
 fought. For three years, manoeuvres and 
 pitched battles, each one of which was con 
 fidently expected to end the Confederacy at 
 once, had left the Army of Northern Virginia 
 as dangerous as at first. And now the Army 
 of the Potomac was to advance again over 
 fields which had been the scene of Hooker s 
 disastrous failure at Chancellorsville, and Burn- 
 side s bloody repulse at Fredericksburg, and 
 by a route made difficult by a heavily timbered 
 country, broken by many streams running 
 at right angles with the line of march, and easily 
 held against a superior force. The North had 
 now come to feel that war was no pastime but 
 a terrible reality, and was ready for the new 
 method of procedure which was proposed by 
 General Grant, namely, "to hammer contin 
 uously against the armed force of the Confed 
 eracy until by mere attrition, if by nothing else, 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 37 
 
 there should be nothing left capable of rebellion. 
 No more ninety days prophecies! No more 
 nine months enlistments! No more standing 
 behind intrenchments and making tactical 
 thrusts like a fencer behind his foils! No more 
 sitting down at safe distances and watching the 
 blaze and thunder of an artillery duel, and call 
 ing that fighting! War was seen to be what it 
 really is the most terrible of woes; and so, 
 when on the third of May the command was 
 given "Forward," it meant no longer a holi 
 day parade, but a fierce death-grapple, the air 
 filled with groans and the earth choked with 
 blood. The desolate region into which was 
 now poured the living tide of one hundred 
 thousand men is fittingly called "The Wilder 
 ness." It embraces a tract of country stretch 
 ing southward many miles from the Rapidan, 
 and westward beyond Mine Run, covered with 
 forest and an almost impenetrable undergrowth 
 of low-limbed scraggy pines, scrub oaks, and 
 stiff-bristling chinquapins, or dwarf chestnuts. 
 It is a tangled labyrinth of brambles and briers, 
 a land of darkness and the very shadow of 
 death. Into its horrid gloom when once the 
 army entered, it was wholly lost to view. 
 Within its trackless waste was enacted all 
 unseen but not unheard the terrible drama of 
 battle. There is a glory and a grandeur, a 
 
38 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 pride and a pomp in the marshalled ranks upon 
 an open field; but you shudder to hear the des 
 perate raging of musketry in the thick jungle 
 where nothing is seen, only from out those 
 gloomy depths soon comes a part of the ruin 
 that has been wrought, in bleeding shapes 
 borne in blankets or on stretchers, while a large 
 part never returns the silent, motionless shapes 
 that lie in thick swathes along the front of 
 battle, the ghastly harvest of death. 
 
 The advance into this horrible wilderness was 
 led by General Sheridan, who had just been 
 put in command of the Cavalry Corps of the 
 Army of the Potomac; having been trans 
 ferred from the Army of the Cumberland, where 
 he had been leading an infantry division. But 
 although he was an infantry officer, most of 
 his earlier experience had been with the cavalry 
 arm of the service, and everywhere he had shown 
 those fighting qualities that Grant wanted now 
 in this last great encounter. The first thing he 
 did on assuming this new command was to 
 persuade General Meade to relieve the cavalry 
 from their excessive and unnecessary picket 
 duty, guarding, as they had, a sixty-mile circle 
 about the infantry and artillery and scarcely 
 one mounted Confederate confronting it at any 
 point. The horses were worn and thin, and 
 Sheridan did the best he could, in the two weeks 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 39 
 
 before the campaign opened, to nurse them into 
 a better condition. The next thing Sheridan 
 did was to try to persuade Meade to make the 
 cavalry more effective. General Meade 
 thought cavalry fit for little more than guard 
 and picket duty, but General Sheridan wanted 
 to mass it and defeat the enemy s cavalry, and 
 so give his men such confidence that they could 
 march where they pleased for the purpose of 
 breaking Lee s communications and destroying 
 the resources from which his army was supplied. 
 General Meade was not quite persuaded to let 
 Sheridan have his way, at least not till after 
 the battles of the Wilderness, when Grant in 
 tervened and gave the gallant cavalry leader 
 free rein. But now Meade used the troopers 
 in the old-fashioned way of protecting the ad 
 vance of the infantry, while Sheridan felt that 
 the infantry ought to be able to protect its own 
 front. 
 
 The plan of operations was to cross the Rapi- 
 dan and under cover of the dense woods to 
 march by the left flank and if possible turn 
 Lee s right and strike at his communications 
 with Gordonsville. To this end, early on the 
 the morning of the 4th of May General Sheridan 
 crossed the river with about ten thousand 
 troopers Wilson s division crossing at Ger- 
 mania Ford and opening the way for Warren 
 
40 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 with the Fifth Corps, which reached Wilderness 
 Tavern at noon and intrenched. Sedgwick 
 with the Sixth Corps followed Warren and by 
 nightfall had taken position on his right. Gregg 
 with the second division of cavalry crossed the 
 river, before daylight, at Ely s Ford, opening 
 the way towards Chancellorsville for Hancock 
 with the Second Corps, which encamped about 
 six miles east of Warren. Behind the Second 
 Corps, trailed along its almost interminable 
 length the train of more than four thousand 
 wagons covered and protected by Torbert s 
 division of cavalry. This wagon-train in single 
 line would stretch more than a hundred miles 
 and yet it was all south of the river by the 
 evening of the 5th. It carried ten days ra 
 tions for one hundred and fifty thousand men 
 and three days forage for I know not how many 
 animals, and under the direction of Gen. Rufus 
 Ingalls was very skilfully managed. Now all 
 the army was across the river on the evening 
 of the 4th except Burnside s corps, which had 
 been ordered to remain about Rappahannock 
 station to guard Grant s communications with 
 Alexandria until he got word that the crossing 
 had been safely accomplished. This he learned 
 towards evening of the 4th, and by making a 
 night march, although some of his troops had 
 to walk forty miles to reach the river, he was 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 41 
 
 crossing with the head of his column early on 
 the morning of the 5th. Grant considered this 
 movement across the river by his whole army 
 in the face of the enemy s large, well-appointed 
 and ably-commanded forces as a great success, 
 and felt encouraged to think that he might turn 
 Lee s right and force him to fight for his com 
 munications with Richmond. But Lee needed 
 no forcing. That very morning, while Grant 
 was crossing, he from his headquarters at Orange 
 Court House had set his columns in motion by 
 the Orange Turnpike and Plank Road, and by 
 evening the advance of the two armies biv 
 ouacked unsuspectingly within a short distance 
 of each other, and on the morning of the 5th, 
 as Warren, in order to guard his right flank, 
 sent out the division of Griffin on the turnpike 
 and the division of Crawford on the Plank 
 Road, the one encountered the advance of 
 Ewell and the other the advance of Hill. But 
 Generals Grant and Meade who had now es 
 tablished their headquarters in the only open 
 space the region afforded, near "Old Wilderness 
 Tavern" thought that this demonstration on 
 the part of Lee was only a cover for a change of 
 position towards the North Anna, and so, 
 without changing the line of march of the main 
 army, ordered an attack at once with such 
 troops as happened to be near the threatened 
 
42 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 positions. In obedience to these orders, an 
 impetuous charge was made by Warren at 
 noon, and for a short time everything was 
 swept before it. But soon, coming upon the 
 main columns of the Confederate army, the 
 advance was checked, and shortly driven back 
 with great loss. Then General Grant, no longer 
 in doubt that the enemy were present in full 
 force, made his dispositions to accept the gage 
 of battle, and immediately ordered Hancock, 
 who was now with the advance of the Second 
 Corps two miles beyond Todd s Tavern, to 
 countermarch and as soon as possible support 
 Getty, whose division of Sedgwick s corps 
 was with difficulty holding its position on War 
 ren s left. At a little past four o clock the at 
 tack was opened by Hancock in repeated and 
 desperate assaults upon Hill along the Plank 
 Road, but the Confederates, under cover of the 
 almost impenetrable thickets, met the ad 
 vancing lines with such well-delivered and mur 
 derous volleys that our advance was every time 
 checked and hurled back. The day was in 
 tensely hot, and in the close stiffling ravines 
 death held high carnival. Every advance was 
 into an ambuscade, where our soldiers were 
 mowed down by bullets from unseen lines of 
 musketry. Yet Grant flinched not from his 
 purpose, and showed his impregnable determi- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 43 
 
 nation by giving orders that the bridge over 
 which Burnside s corps had just crossed should 
 be taken up. He thus cut off one opportunity 
 of escape for stragglers, and said, "One bridge 
 and the ford will be enough for all the men we 
 have left if we have to fall back." I have 
 told how the cavalry took the advance on the 
 morning of the 4th, Gregg s division at Ely s 
 Ford, and Wilson s, six miles above at Germania 
 Ford. Before daylight they had driven the 
 rebel pickets away, and had laid the pontoons 
 for the crossing of the infantry and artillery. 
 Gregg had pushed on to Chancellorsville, where 
 Sheridan fixed his headquarters. Wilson moved 
 rapidly past Wilderness Tavern as far as Par 
 ker s Store on the Orange Plank Road. Here he 
 received orders from Meade to leave one regi 
 ment to hold the position at the store and ad 
 vance the rest of his force towards Craig s 
 Meeting House. Here he encountered Rosser s 
 brigade of cavalry and drove it flying for two 
 miles. Then, hearing nothing of our infantry 
 following to his support, and learning that the 
 rebel infantry was pressing past Parker s Store 
 and so getting in his rear and between him and 
 General Meade, Wilson determined to withdraw 
 his cavalry to Todd s Tavern. But here again 
 he encountered the Confederates and seemed to 
 be caught in an ambuscade. He extricated 
 
44 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 himself, however, by making a detour and cross 
 ing the Po at Corbin s Bridge and then taking 
 the direction of Todd s Tavern, where as he 
 approached he was met by Gregg s division of 
 cavalry, which had been sent to his relief by 
 Sheridan, who, with that instinct which made 
 him a great commander, suspected the direction 
 that Wilson would take and so provided, at the 
 right place and time, the necessary relief. To 
 gether they were able not only to check the 
 Confederate pursuit but to drive back the rebel 
 forces as far as Shady Grove Church. The 
 First Massachusetts Cavalry did gallant work 
 in this last charge. 
 
 Night now closed in and ended the struggle, 
 which had been very severe without any marked 
 advantage to either side except that Grant had 
 crossed a formidable river in face of the enemy 
 and had his whole army ready in one body for 
 the action of the next day. This was indeed 
 equivalent to a victory, but the losses had been 
 great. In those few hours since twelve o clock, 
 five thousand on the Union side and at least 
 three thousand on the Confederate side had 
 either been killed, wounded, or taken prisoners. 
 Yet these terrible losses did not make either 
 side less determined to continue the fight, and 
 early on the morning of the 6th, fifteen minutes 
 before the time appointed by Grant for the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 45 
 
 general attack, a sudden outburst of musketry 
 on his right flank announced that Lee was before 
 him in offensive purposes. This would not 
 have happened if Grant had not compromised 
 with Meade s urgent desire to have the attack 
 ordered at six and so deferred it a half-hour 
 from the time he had first determined, which 
 would have given him the advantage of Lee 
 by fifteen minutes. This early attack by 
 Ewell s corps on our right was planned by Lee 
 chiefly as a cover for an intended heavier blow 
 upon the Union left. But its meaning was sus 
 pected by Grant and was easily repulsed. Sedg- 
 wick with the Sixth Corps now held the right 
 of our line of battle, and through the day made 
 many gallant assaults upon the intrenched 
 positions of the enemy, who, though he could 
 not be dislodged, was thus prevented from with 
 drawing troops to the support of Hill on the 
 Rebel right. On Sedgwick s left, two divisions 
 of Warren s corps, which had suffered so terribly 
 the day before, though engaged throughout the 
 day in severe skirmishing, yet held chiefly a 
 defensive attitude on the right and the left of 
 the Orange Pike. On Warren s left, Burnside, 
 who had by rapid and arduous marches brought 
 up the Ninth Corps, occupied the space between 
 the turnpike and the Plank Road, and, advanc 
 ing through the forest in the morning, encoun- 
 
46 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 tered the enemy on a wooded crest near the 
 Plank Road, but, not deeming it wise to attempt 
 to take the hill by assault, led his command 
 farther to the left and became engaged with the 
 enemy about noon, but with no decisive re 
 sults. The brunt of the day s fighting was 
 borne by Hancock, who had nearly half of the 
 Army of the Potomac under him, being rein 
 forced by General Wadsworth s division of the 
 Fifth Corps, and General Stephenson s of the 
 Ninth Corps. Hancock in person led the at 
 tack on the left of the Plank Road, and Wads- 
 worth on the right, and the advance was made 
 with such vigor that the Confederates under 
 Hill were driven back in panic and utter con 
 fusion for a mile and a half; but here Long- 
 street, who had been making forced marches 
 from Gordonsville, threw his veteran corps into 
 the scale, and by desperate fighting regained 
 all the ground which had been lost, and was 
 making his dispositions to turn Hancock s left 
 and thus strike a decisive blow, when a Con 
 federate bullet as had happened to Stonewall 
 Jackson just a year before and near this place- 
 disabled him and stayed the onset. This acci 
 dent caused a delay of four hours, in which Gen 
 eral Lee was making his dispositions and getting 
 his troops in hand to carry out Longstreet s 
 plan. On the left of Hancock, General Sheri- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 47 
 
 dan held the line of the Brock Road beyond the 
 Catharpin Furnaces and thence around to 
 Todd s Tavern and Piney Branch Church. 
 General Stuart commanding the Rebel cavalry, 
 with Wade Hampton and Fitzhugh Lee as his 
 division commanders, tried to dislodge Sheridan 
 from his position, but Custer s and Devin s bri 
 gades hurled back his attacks. This was in the 
 morning; and now at four o clock when Lee 
 took personal command of the Rebel right, he 
 ordered Stuart to attack once more while he 
 himself threw Longstreet s and Hill s combined 
 forces against Hancock s intrenched position. 
 Stuart had no better success than in the morn 
 ing. His assault was met gallantly, and se 
 verely repulsed by Generals Merritt and Gregg, 
 leading the First and Second Divisions. Gen 
 eral Torbert of the First had been taken ill and 
 carried to the rear. In this cavalry fight Custer 
 went in with his usual impetuosity, having his 
 band playing patriotic airs near the front and 
 himself charging at the head of his brigade 
 while his artillery played hotly into the enemy. 
 Lee s assaults upon Hancock were also unavail 
 ing, though for a little time the flags of Ander 
 son s corps were planted on our intrenchments. 
 "But Carroll of Gibbon s division moved at a 
 double-quick with his brigade and drove back 
 the enemy, inflicting great loss." Night again 
 
48 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 closed in on the terrible carnage, with the op 
 posing lines in almost exactly the same position 
 as in the morning. This day s battle added 
 more than fifteen thousand to the frightful 
 holocaust of the day before the Union losses 
 amounting to ten thousand and the Confederate 
 exceeding five thousand. Grant thought that 
 the Confederate losses must have been greater 
 than his own. Possibly they were, in propor 
 tion to the whole force which Lee was able to 
 bring into the field. But the admitted losses 
 of both sides approached twenty-four thousand, 
 and the two days together made the most de 
 structive and the most hotly contested fields 
 in the history of civilized nations up to that 
 time. 
 
 The next morning both armies were too ex 
 hausted to renew the attack, though General 
 Sheridan drove Stuart s cavalry from Catharpin 
 Furnace almost to Spottsylvania Court House 
 after very hard fighting, and so made it im 
 possible for Lee to turn Grant s left or to 
 threaten his communications. With the rest 
 of the army the day was spent in caring for the 
 wounded and burying the dead who lay within 
 our lines. Grant had the one bridge trans 
 ferred from Germania to Ely s Ford to facili 
 tate the transportation of the wounded to 
 Washington. But the debatable ground be- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 49 
 
 tween the two lines of battle was still covered 
 with its horrible harvest of death, the bodies 
 lying in swathes where the dread reaper s 
 sickle had ruthlessly swept the field. The 
 ground fought over was more than five miles 
 long and averaged three-quarters of a mile in 
 width, and on the second day the fighting had 
 continued with short intervals from five in the 
 morning till dark. The killed and many of 
 the severely wounded lay within this belt where 
 it was impossible to reach them, piled up in 
 ghastly heaps, gold-laced generals and ragged 
 privates rolled in one indistinguishable medley 
 of death. And as if this was not dreadful 
 enough to appease the grim Moloch of War the 
 fire-fiend added his hot fury, the woods were set 
 on fire by the bursting shells, and "the wounded 
 who had not strength to move themselves 
 were either suffocated or burned to death." A 
 month after the battle, I rode along this gloomy 
 avenue between the intrenched positions, and 
 there they still lay some partially cremated, 
 all unburied, "pleading in vain for a handful 
 of earth," each in some position that told the 
 tale of lengthened pain or momentary agony. 
 Most had been stripped of caps and shoes and 
 outer garments to cover the tattered and shoe 
 less Rebel soldiers and camp-followers. You 
 could hardly distinguish in some cases between 
 
50 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 the Union and the Confederate dead, unless you 
 stooped to examine some token or written 
 direction upon the person, telling of loved ones 
 left behind, who should never get the tidings of 
 how or where they fell. In some places the 
 battle had raged so fiercely that trees a foot in 
 diameter were mowed down with bullets. 
 We could mark the fluctuating fortunes of the 
 battle by the numbers and position of the dead. 
 At one place there was evidently a terrible 
 struggle before some strong Rebel earthworks 
 where our dead lay in a long line; but we could 
 see that the assault was at one time successful, 
 for on the inside of the intrenchments was an 
 other line of Confederate dead mingled with 
 our own, and further on the Rebels lay scattered 
 where they fell before our advance. In one 
 ravine it was plain to see by the bright uni 
 forms which the Rebels, not wishing to wear, 
 had not stolen that a whole regiment of 
 Zouaves had been entrapped in an ambuscade 
 of flame, and few could have escaped to tell 
 the tale. Now with their tasselled caps and 
 embroidered jackets and baggy breeches, so 
 picturesque in life, so uncanny in death, they 
 told the tale of the ghastly horrors of war. This 
 was the I46th New York the Irish Infantry 
 (old Duryea s Zouaves, re-enlisted). They had 
 charged here five times through the ravine and 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 51 
 
 over the Rebel earthworks, singing, as they ran 
 on the double-quick, the inspiriting song 
 "Rally Round the Flag, Boys!" Alas, that 
 its echoes should have been the groans of the 
 dying sinking away into the silence of the dead! 
 But how glorious was this exhibition of the 
 uniting of all nationalities in the North for the 
 defence of freedom and union! The hot fur 
 naces of war seven times heated by civil 
 strife fused the diverse elements of our popu 
 lation into one homogeneous mass of patriotic 
 devotion. On many a battlefield foreigners 
 fought shoulder to shoulder with those who were 
 native born, pressed on with patient persistence 
 in a common partnership of peril, bowed to a 
 common baptism of blood, and entered together 
 the shadow of death. 
 
 We had entered that region of gloom to carry 
 away any of our own wounded whom it might 
 be possible to move. Word had reached Wash 
 ington through some of our men, who had so far 
 recovered as to be able to walk to our lines, that 
 there were three hundred of our wounded men 
 in a field hospital at Locust Grove in the Wilder 
 ness, and Colonel Lowell was ordered to take 
 seven hundred men and fifty four-horse am 
 bulances, and try to bring them away. We 
 started from Vienna, June 8th, and crossed the 
 Occoquan at Wolf Run Shoals, and the Rappa- 
 
52 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 hannock at United States Ford, wading both 
 streams, passed through Chancellorsville, and 
 took the Orange Plank Road to Parker s Store, 
 where we found one small field hospital with 
 thirteen of our men besides a number of Con 
 federates. On examination, our surgeon de 
 cided that none of them could endure the jour 
 ney to Washington. As I went from one pa 
 tient to another, trying to comfort them, I came 
 upon one of the Fifty-seventh Massachusetts 
 Infantry, and, instead of speaking of himself and 
 his own terrible doom, his first word was of 
 affectionate solicitude for his Colonel W. F. 
 Bartlett of Pittsfield and did I know whether 
 he was badly wounded or not. When I told 
 him that I had seen his gallant commander 
 only a few days before, and that though severely 
 wounded he was doing well, this poor dying 
 soldier seemed perfectly happy and his eyes 
 sparkled with delight. What a beautiful and 
 pathetic tribute to General Bartlett! How we 
 all delighted to honor him as one of the noblest 
 of the young heroes of the war! He was just 
 past twenty-one when he entered the army as 
 Captain of the Twentieth Massachusetts In 
 fantry, and he was only twenty-six when he was 
 mustered out as Brevet Major General. He 
 lost a leg in front of Yorktown, was wounded 
 in the wrist and heel in the assault upon Port 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 53 
 
 Hudson, was wounded in the head at the Battle 
 of the Wilderness, and taken prisoner in the 
 mine before Petersburg. On a bronze tablet 
 under his bust in Memorial Hall in Cambridge 
 is this motto in old English: "He was a very 
 parfit gentil knight." He was indeed our mod 
 ern "Bayard without fear and without re 
 proach," and he showed a spirit of self-sacrifice 
 finer than Sidney s. His was not a merely 
 physical courage or the recklessness of a hot 
 temperament. No one could have been more 
 cool and calm than he, and no one so fond of 
 peace. But he nerved himself to battle, by 
 prayer, and by inward wrestlings whose out 
 come and end was always religious trust. 
 After battle I have heard him laugh and joke 
 about the wounds in his wooden leg; but to 
 him, who never but once went into action with 
 out a bullet-scratch, fighting meant always close 
 quarters with death, and he never blanched in 
 that presence. After the war was over, and he 
 had gone back quietly to the pursuits of peace, 
 the same manly courage, moral force, and chiv 
 alrous daring made him stand up boldly against 
 the vindictive passions of conquerors, and stand 
 out conspicuously as the champion of the pity 
 ing sympathy of brothers. Without the art of 
 the orator, his utter earnestness amounted to 
 eloquence; and in the few years of peace spared 
 
54 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 to him he achieved even finer victories than in 
 the war. His short speech at the Centennial 
 of the Battle of Lexington, in which he sought 
 "to heal the wounds his own valor had made," 
 was perhaps the noblest fruit of that patriotic 
 celebration. And yet we think of him chiefly 
 as a soldier, our honored companion who loved 
 his country and scorned death in her service. 
 No wonder his men admired him, for he never 
 asked them to go where he would not lead the 
 way. I was delighted to be able to assure this 
 one of Bartlett s brave followers, now wounded 
 beyond cure and still lying on the field of the 
 Wilderness, that his loved commander was 
 doing well (Note 8). I took the names of all these 
 patients, and such messages as they wished to 
 send to their homes, and with unutterable regret 
 that we could not transport them to Washing 
 ton, we left them to the kindly though unskilled 
 nursing that the place afforded. 
 
 While we were halting thus at Parker s Store, 
 a detachment had pushed on six or eight miles 
 further to Locust Grove, but found that most of 
 the wounded had been removed to Orange Court 
 House three days before. At this we were 
 greatly disappointed, for we could easily have 
 brought off two hundred. Still, as there were 
 some left, Colonel Lowell took ten ambulances 
 sending the rest for safety back over the ford 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 55 
 
 and we found at Locust Grove forty-six of our 
 men who, we thought, could safely be moved. 
 Their wounds were all very bad, and the ride 
 was to be very long more than fifty miles, 
 yet they were all ready to take the risk and 
 perfectly delighted at the prospect of getting 
 among friends. There were two who were 
 dying, and whom, of course, we would not move; 
 yet even they longed to go, that at least they 
 might close their eyes for the last time among 
 friends. One of these, before he had been told 
 that he could not go, although he was already 
 so weak that he could not turn on his couch, 
 asked me to take his haversack from under his 
 pillow, that he might have some provision for 
 the journey. But he had no need of food on 
 the journey that his soul would speedily take, 
 nor would he taste again the bread of earth till 
 it was transformed into the bread of the im 
 mortal life. We hastily loaded the rest into 
 the ambulances, all except three for whom there 
 was no room. But their prayers to be taken 
 along were so piteous that I begged Colonel 
 Lowell to let me see that they were carried on 
 stretchers to the ford where were the rest of the 
 ambulances. He gave me a detail of forty-eight 
 men, and I had twenty-four dismount at a time, 
 the others leading the riderless horses, and I 
 put eight at each stretcher, four to carry and 
 
56 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 four to rest alternately. In this way we carried 
 them twelve miles between five and eleven 
 o clock. It was very hard work, as the road 
 was exceedingly rough. I took hold myself a 
 part of the time; and though I was very much 
 exhausted, with lack of food and sleep, and with 
 the peculiarly trying labors of the day, in the 
 excitement of the occasion I felt very strong, 
 and often carried alone one end of a stretcher 
 with its precious but heavy load of suffering 
 loyalty. To add to the difficulties of our weary 
 tramp, towards evening it began to rain, and 
 by nine o clock it was so dark we could not see 
 a yard before us, and we stumbled over every 
 slightest obstacle. We reached the ford and 
 the rest of the ambulances a little after eleven; 
 but it was not safe to cross in the darkness, so 
 we lay down on the wet ground till half-past 
 three o clock, when we fed horses and started 
 again. This crossing of the Rappahannock was 
 the hardest place in the whole journey for the 
 wounded. All were now provided with room 
 enough in the ambulances; but in descending 
 the steep bank to the river, one ambulance was 
 upset, throwing out three wounded men and 
 breaking again the limbs which had first been 
 broken by bullets. Like true soldiers these 
 sufferers looked upon the bright side even of this 
 calamity, and found some comfort in thinking 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 57 
 
 that their limbs had been poorly set and would in 
 any event have had to be broken again. 
 
 Then the crossing of the river was very rough. 
 It seemed at times as if the large round stones 
 in the bed of the river would upset the wagons 
 into the water. In one of the ambulances a 
 horse had given out, and we had supplied his 
 place with a mule, but as the team entered the 
 water the two animals from incompatibility 
 of temper refused to pull together. The mule 
 especially sulked, and seemed disposed to shift 
 the burden upon his more aristocratic compan 
 ion. So, procuring a long pole and putting a 
 little pointed persuasion into the end of it, I 
 managed by persistent punching, to induce the 
 mule to draw at least his half, and at last we 
 were out of the water. But in climbing the 
 bank, the wheels got stuck in the mud, and then 
 the horse refused to pull showing how catching 
 is depravity. In this complication I had ten 
 men dismount, and what with pulling at the 
 tongue and pushing at the back and tugging 
 at the wheels and lashing the horse and punch 
 ing the mule, the ambulance was finally drawn 
 up the bank. But the sufferings of the wounded 
 during these wrenchings and joltings of the 
 wagon were simply indescribable. 
 
 We found a camping-ground about four miles 
 from the river and halted for breakfast. We 
 
58 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 had concentrated beef-tea for the sick, and 
 heated three large iron kettles full of it, and 
 thickened it with soft bread. The patients had 
 had nothing to eat for twenty-four hours, and 
 it was a great refreshment to them. 
 
 I will not stop to give in detail the rest of 
 the journey. Suffice it to say that only one 
 of the wounded men succumbed to the dreadful 
 fatigues. The rest reached Washington in 
 safety. As we approached our camp late on 
 the second night of our journey, I galloped 
 ahead of the column, and waked up the band, 
 and had them play a "welcome home" for the 
 command as it came in. The joy of the 
 wounded captives whom we had rescued may 
 be imagined but cannot be described when 
 they heard once more the inspiring strains of 
 "The Star Spangled Banner" and "Hail, 
 Columbia." For were they not also heroes 
 who "fought and bled in freedom s cause," 
 and did they not deserve the trumpet s "All 
 Hail!" and do they not still deserve a nation s 
 grateful remembrance? 
 
 Let us now follow again the movements of 
 Grant and Lee, and watch them as they tear 
 at each other like wild beasts of the jungle. 
 As I have said, both armies were too exhausted 
 after the two days terrible combat in the Wil- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 59 
 
 derness to renew the struggle. The Rebels had 
 fought with great courage and tenacity, but 
 they could no longer drive back the Army of 
 the Potomac. It had at last found a leader 
 worthy of its devotion. Lincoln said after the 
 Wilderness battles, "Any other commander 
 would have fallen back." But this was alto 
 gether against the temper of Grant s mind. He 
 knew no such word as "fail." He had just the 
 quality that was needed at this stage of the 
 struggle the energy of patience. As soon as 
 he found, by reconnoitring all along the line on 
 the morning of May yth, that the enemy would 
 not attack him again in the open field, he gave 
 the command "Forward!" and that very 
 night the columns were in motion towards 
 Richmond, seeking to gain the next important 
 strategic point, Spottsylvania Court House, 
 fifteen miles distant, and thus Grant planned 
 not only to put himself between Lee and Rich 
 mond, but also to keep Lee from detaching any 
 force to oppose General Butler, who that very 
 day had captured City Point and was threat 
 ening Richmond from the South. But Lee 
 had divined Grant s plan, and instructed An 
 derson now commanding Longstreet s corps 
 to break camp and bivouac so as to be ready to 
 move to Spottsylvania in the morning. It was 
 by the merest accident one of those chances, 
 
60 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 however, that decides the fate of battles that 
 Anderson, not finding a good place to bivouac, 
 began his march that night, and having fewer 
 impedimenta than Warren, who led the ad 
 vance of Grant s infantry, and having also a 
 few hours the start, he reached Spottsylvania 
 first, drove out the cavalry that Sheridan had 
 sent ahead, and intrenched a little north of the 
 Court House. 
 
 When on the morning of the 8th our advance 
 after driving before it the Rebel cavalry sent 
 out to impede its march came upon Long- 
 street s infantry thus securely intrenched, it 
 made one furious onset, but was driven back 
 by the steady fire from the Confederate lines, 
 and began at once to throw up intrenchments 
 for its own protection. Thus Lee blocked the 
 second attempt of Grant to turn his right, and, 
 gaining time on the 8th to throw up a strong 
 line of defence on Spottsylvania Ridge, he was 
 able for twelve days to hold the Army of the 
 Potomac in check. 
 
 I have said that this seizure of the advanta 
 geous strategic position at Spottsylvania was 
 the fruit of Anderson s accidental advance 
 before it was ordered. Even thus he would 
 not have succeeded but for an unfortunate 
 overruling of Sheridan s plans by General 
 Meade. Sheridan had on the yth fought the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 6l 
 
 Rebel cavalry at Todd s Tavern and routed 
 them, thus opening the way for the infantry 
 towards Spottsylvania. He had also on the 
 morning of the 8th taken possession of Spottsyl 
 vania with Wilson s corps, and had given orders 
 to Gregg and Merritt to join their divisions 
 with Wilson s and hold Snell s Bridge over which 
 Lee would have to cross to get to Spottsylvania. 
 Our cavalry would thus have been able to check 
 Anderson till Warren, who held our infantry 
 advance, had intrenched himself at Spottsyl 
 vania. But Meade countermanded the orders 
 to Gregg and Merritt and kept them from 
 forming the junction with Wilson. Sheridan 
 was so nettled by this interference that he told 
 Meade that "such disjointed operations as he 
 had been requiring of the cavalry in the last 
 four days would render the corps useless before 
 long." Meade, replying, suggested that " Stuart 
 with the Confederate cavalry would do about 
 as he pleased anyway." At this Sheridan re 
 torted that he " could whip Stuart any day." 
 Meade went at once to Grant and reported the 
 conversation, and Grant answered: "Did he 
 say he could whip Stuart? Well, he generally 
 knows what he is talking about. Let him 
 start right out and do it." Meade immedi 
 ately gave orders to Sheridan to proceed against 
 the enemy s cavalry, and Sheridan, though his 
 
62 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 men had been four days with very little food 
 or sleep, yet at once issued instructions to his 
 three cavalry divisions to concentrate at Al- 
 drich s. So precipitate was the start that Sher 
 idan did not wait to get extra rations, but doled 
 out what he had on hand, three days rations 
 for the men and half a day s rations for the 
 horses, and though he received the order for 
 the expedition on the afternoon of May 8th, 
 his column was in motion early on the morning 
 of May 9th. 
 
 In order to deceive the enemy as to his in 
 tended movement which the lines of dust 
 made by his troopers might betray he took 
 up his march, first, straight away from them 
 towards Fredericksburg. Then when he was 
 well out of sight he turned sharply and marched 
 around the right flank of Lee s army and took 
 the telegraph road towards Richmond. His 
 column was thirteen miles long, and the rear 
 had passed Massaponax Church before Stuart 
 suspected the movement. He immediately 
 sent Fitzhugh Lee with Lomax s and Wick- 
 ham s brigades to attack the rear of the column 
 and try to hold it till he himself with the rest 
 oi his command should intercept Sheridan in 
 front. Sheridan directed Davies brigade at 
 the rear of his column to hold one position after 
 another just long enough to keep Fitzhugh Lee 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 63 
 
 busy, but not to lose his connection with the 
 main column, which kept straight on over the 
 Ny, the Po, and the Ta Rivers, and at night 
 reached the North Anna River, Merritt s di 
 vision crossing at Anderson s Ford and camping 
 on the south side of the stream, all except 
 Custer s brigade, which kept on to Beaver Dam 
 station to cut the Virginia Central Railroad and 
 to secure a clear road to Richmond. Custer 
 accomplished both ends in his usual swift and 
 gallant way. Beaver Dam station was the goal 
 and rallying-point chosen by Stuart; but 
 Custer anticipated him, drove out a small force 
 of the enemy, and recaptured four hundred 
 prisoners who were being taken under guard 
 to Richmond, and whose joy on seeing the 
 flashing sabres of our cavalry can only be imag 
 ined. Custer also destroyed the station, two 
 locomotives, three trains of cars, ninety wagons, 
 ten miles of railroad, a million and a half of 
 rations, and nearly all the medical stores of 
 General Lee s army. These last had just been 
 brought forward from Orange Court House for 
 convenient use in Lee s retreat towards Rich 
 mond. 
 
 On the morning of the loth, while Gregg and 
 Wilson were crossing the North Anna, Stuart 
 appeared, having crossed a few miles above on 
 Davenport s bridge; but he was too late to 
 
64 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 throw any effective obstacle in Sheridan s path 
 at that point; so he turned and started off 
 once more, and urged his horses to the death 
 to get ahead of Sheridan s column and inter 
 pose between him and Richmond. This left 
 Sheridan s march almost unimpeded that day 
 along the Negro-foot road, and his famished 
 horses got well fed and rested, and he en 
 camped for the night on the south side of the 
 South Anna, congratulating himself that now 
 he had drawn Stuart far enough away to fight 
 him without fear of the intervention of Lee s 
 infantry. At two o clock on the morning of 
 the llth, Sheridan sent Davies brigade to the 
 Ashland station of the Richmond and Potomac 
 Railroad, and, though it was guarded by a 
 regiment of Virginians, he drove them out in a 
 gallant charge led by the First Massachusetts 
 Cavalry and then destroyed a locomotive and 
 train of cars, and the track for a long distance, 
 and got away before Fitzhugh Lee reached it 
 as he must in his march to join Stuart. This 
 was one of numberless instances where Sheri 
 dan s sleepless vigilance and swift movements 
 secured him great advantages over his enemies. 
 Stuart, by forced marches, reached Yellow 
 Tavern, six miles from Richmond, on the 
 Brook turnpike at ten o clock on the morning 
 of the nth, and shortly afterwards Sheridan s 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 65 
 
 advance under Merritt approached the place, 
 and at once attacked and drove the enemy 
 beyond the turnpike so that Wilson s division, 
 immediately following with one of Gregg s 
 brigades, was able to form an advantageous 
 line of battle on the east of the pike. Here 
 followed a very hot battle, which, however, 
 was soon determined in Sheridan s favor by a 
 brilliant mounted charge of Custer s brigade, 
 supported by the whole of Wilson s division. 
 This broke and turned the enemy s left, and 
 then Gibbs and Devin s brigades drove the 
 enemy s centre and right from the field. At 
 the same time Gregg charged upon and routed 
 Gordon s brigade which had been hanging upon 
 our rear; and thus the battle ended with 
 Sheridan in complete control of the road to Rich 
 mond, with the enemy s cavalry broken up and 
 badly beaten and Generals Stuart and Gordon 
 killed. 
 
 Right here Sheridan as he afterwards con 
 fessed to Senator Plumb resisted the greatest 
 temptation of his life. Richmond was right 
 before him, drained of her usual defenders by 
 Butler s demonstration on the south. Sheridan 
 knew that he could dash in and burn and kill 
 right and left, and knew also that the tidings 
 of his being in Richmond would have set every 
 bell in the North to ringing, and he would have 
 
66 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 been made the hero of the hour. But he knew 
 also that it would cost the lives of many of his 
 soldiers and for no permanent advantage; and 
 as he thought not of glory but of results, he 
 spurned the temptation as soon as it was sug 
 gested, and made his plans to extricate his 
 command from the new combinations which 
 the enemy would be sure to make. To this end 
 he sent one party down the Brook turnpike 
 towards Richmond, and they brushed away 
 the guards and entered the outer defences of 
 the city, and Sheridan discovering a country 
 road between the lines of earthworks hoped 
 by that route to reach Mechanicsville and thus 
 save quite a distance in his march to HaxalPs 
 Landing. But not only was his path infested 
 with torpedoes planted to obstruct his passage, 
 but his advance under Wilson came upon 
 General Bragg with three brigades of regular 
 infantry just called in from confronting Butler 
 south of the James and with four or five thou 
 sand irregular troops under the eye of Jefferson 
 Davis. These advanced from behind their 
 earthworks and attacked Wilson and at first 
 drove him back. But when the Confederate 
 advance came upon Gregg, he met them with 
 such a hot fire, from his dismounted cavalry 
 men and from Robinson s batteries of horse- 
 artillery, that they began to waver, and then 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 67 
 
 Wilson rallied his men and charged and turned 
 the enemy s right flank, and compelled Bragg 
 to withdraw his whole force within the second 
 line of earthworks from which it had so confi 
 dently sallied forth. 
 
 Meanwhile Merritt had been sent with his di 
 vision to secure Meadow Bridge for a crossing 
 over the Chickahominy, but, finding it de 
 stroyed and the enemy s cavalry and a section 
 of artillery guarding the opposite bank, it 
 seemed hopeless to attempt to rebuild the bridge. 
 But Sheridan sent word that it must be done at 
 all hazards. So Merritt sent two of his regi 
 ments to ford the river above the bridge and 
 try to drive away the enemy, but they failed 
 and were driven back. Still his working parties 
 kept on repairing the bridge though all the time 
 exposed to a hot fire from the enemy, and soon 
 Merritt was able to get his whole division over 
 the bridge. He then dismounted them and 
 charged and carried the enemy s line of entrench 
 ments, and remounting pursued the fleeing 
 Rebels as far as Games Mills. 
 
 Thus Sheridan was both in front and rear 
 master of the situation, and he was prepared 
 for even more desperate straights. For while 
 the battle with Bragg was going on he had sent 
 out scouts who had discovered several fords 
 over the Chickahominy by which he could 
 
68 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 have retreated, if necessary. It was this pre 
 paredness for all possible emergencies which 
 made Sheridan the great General which all now 
 admit him to have been. He remained on the 
 field of his encounter with Bragg, undisturbed 
 the rest of the day, and spent the time "collect 
 ing the wounded, burying the dead, grazing the 
 hungry horses, resting his tired men, and him 
 self reading the Richmond journals which an 
 enterprising Southern boy had brought in." 
 
 The next day, Sheridan took up his march 
 over Meadow Bridge and then turned south 
 ward and marched by way of Mechanicsville 
 and Bottom s Bridge towards Haxall s Landing 
 on the James, where it had been arranged that 
 he should get supplies from General Butler. 
 
 Thus in four days the purpose of the expedi 
 tion was accomplished. Lee s lines of railroad 
 communication had been cut and for many 
 miles destroyed, his supplies had been seriously 
 depleted, his cavalry had been broken to pieces, 
 and his favorite cavalry leader had been killed. 
 Stuart up to this time had proved himself in 
 vincible. He was to the cavalry what Jackson 
 had been to the infantry. His loss was an 
 irreparable blow to the Confederacy, and Lee 
 confessed to one of his staff that he could scarcely 
 think of it without weeping. Sheridan had not 
 only vindicated his boast that he could whip 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 69 
 
 Stuart anywhere, but he had added wonderfully 
 to the confidence of the cavalry corps both in 
 him and in its own prowess. For now it felt 
 that it could go anywhere and make itself a most 
 efficient arm of the service. 
 
 After a few days recruiting at Haxall s 
 Landing, Sheridan crossed the Chickahominy 
 at Jones bridge and the Pamunkey at White 
 House and on May 24th joined Grant at 
 Chesterfield station on the Richmond & Poto 
 mac Railroad. Both Grant and Meade were 
 warm in their praises of what Sheridan had 
 accomplished, and admitted that he had aided 
 materially in forcing Lee s retrograde march 
 to the North Anna, and had made it easy to 
 guard the immense train of Union wagons while 
 changing to the new base of supplies at Aquia 
 Creek. Up to this time Southern cavaliers had 
 scoffed and with some reason at the Union 
 cavalry. But henceforth under the inspiration 
 of Sheridan s gallant leadership it became a 
 very essential element in every successful move 
 ment of the Union armies in Virginia. 
 
 We left the Army of the Potomac on the 8th 
 of May to follow Sheridan. Now let us return 
 to the main column as it approaches Spottsyl- 
 vania and finds the ridge strongly defended, 
 and sets about intrenching itself. 
 
70 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 On the Qth of May the army was all brought 
 into line of battle, with Hancock on the right, 
 then Warren, then Sedgwick, and Burnside 
 holding the left. Aside from these movements 
 to take up position and intrench, our forces 
 were quiet during the day. The Confederate 
 sharpshooters were however very active, and 
 while Sedgwick was examining his line of 
 defence he saw his men trying to dodge the 
 stray bullets, and said: "Pooh, men, don t 
 duck! They couldn t hit an elephant at that 
 distance." As he spoke, a bullet pierced his 
 brain, and he fell dead. He was a fine soldier; 
 brevetted a Major for gallantry in the Mexican 
 War, he had risen to be Major General in the 
 Army of the Potomac and was the beloved chief 
 of the Sixth Corps. Grant said he was worth 
 more than a whole division. 
 
 On the following day, May 10, at 9.30 A.M., 
 Grant wrote this despatch to the Secretary 
 of War: "The enemy hold our front in very 
 strong force, and evince a strong determination 
 to interpose between us and Richmond to the 
 last. I shall take no backward steps." Then 
 after various tentative thrusts by single divi 
 sions, a general assault was ordered for the 
 afternoon, Grant himself supervising the ad 
 vance by Warren and Wright. But although 
 the Sixth Corps carried the enemy s first line 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 71 
 
 of intrenchments and captured a thousand 
 prisoners in a most gallant assault led by Col. 
 Emory Upton, who was for his splendid pluck 
 made a Brigadier General on the spot, yet 
 the advantage was lost by the feeble following 
 of Mott s division; and in front of Warren the 
 repulse was so bloody that it inflicted a loss of 
 several thousands of his troops. General Porter 
 tells us that in the hottest part of the after 
 noon s conflict General Grant sat down upon a 
 stump to write a despatch, when a shell ex 
 ploded directly in front of him. "He looked 
 up a moment and then without the slightest 
 change of countenance went on writing the 
 message." On the right of the Union line was 
 the only place where Lee s army ventured to 
 come out of his intenchments, and here General 
 Barlow, H. C. 1855, with two brigades was 
 holding a crossing of the Po. Lee, noting his 
 isolation from the main body of the Union 
 army, sent out a whole corps to capture or 
 annihilate him; but Barlow with splendid 
 tenacity held his position against two fierce 
 assaults, and inflicted great loss upon the enemy. 
 And when Grant ordered Barlow to withdraw, 
 he retired in good order, taking up his bridges 
 in presence of the enemy. On the left of the 
 Union line Burnside had advanced without 
 much opposition to within a few hundred yards 
 
72 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 of Spottsylvania Court House, thus getting 
 upon Lee s right flank; but he did not appre 
 ciate the importance of his position nor did he 
 press his advantage, and at nightfall he was 
 withdrawn to connect his corps with the 
 Sixth on his right. 
 
 Having thus failed to pierce the enemy s line 
 in a general assault, Grant resolved to concen 
 trate heavily on the centre, and May nth was 
 spent in busy preparations to this end. He 
 found time, however, to send off this hasty 
 despatch to the Secretary of War: "We have 
 now ended the sixth day of very hard fighting. 
 The result to this time is much in our favor. 
 Our Ipsses have been heavy, but I think the 
 loss of the enemy must be greater. We have 
 taken over four thousand prisoners in battle, 
 while he has taken from us but few except 
 stragglers. I purpose to fight it out on this 
 line if it takes all summer." This last sen 
 tence now become famous rang through the 
 North, like a clarion, its inspiring expression 
 of Grant s energy of patience. It relieved the 
 general suspense, and brought the people up to 
 Grant s grim determination to fight right 
 through to victory regardless of cost. 
 
 Thursday, May I2th, brought a long and 
 desperate battle in which the post of peril and 
 of honor was given to General Hancock. He 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 73 
 
 had held the same critical position at Gettys 
 burg and had acquitted himself so splendidly 
 that he drew the thanks of Congress and of the 
 country. He was every inch a soldier. Tall 
 and handsome, his majestic bearing and mag 
 netic presence excited admiration and com 
 manded confidence; and his flashing glance 
 as he rode down the line of battle fired his men 
 with his own courage and inspired them to 
 supreme devotion. He was the idol of the 
 infantry and its most superb corps commander. 
 His Gettysburg wounds were still troubling 
 him, but he did not spare himself, and he gal 
 lantly accepted the task of making the main 
 assault on the morning of May I2th. His 
 troops were in poor condition, one would think, 
 for making a spirited attack; for not only were 
 they worn with the exhausting labors of the 
 six days battles, but they had been tramping 
 all night long, having been withdrawn from 
 the right of the Union line on the evening 
 of May nth as soon as the darkness made a 
 cover for their movement. To add to their 
 discomfort the rain had poured in torrents all 
 the day before and through this night, and the 
 earth was so soaked it spurted water like a 
 sponge at every pressure of the soldiers feet. 
 The night was so dark that all motion was 
 made very difficult, and the locality was so 
 
74 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 little known and so thickly wooded that the 
 direction of advance had to be determined and 
 guided by the compass. It took till midnight 
 for Hancock s corps to pass behind the Fifth 
 and Sixth, and then it took till nearly morning 
 to get them into position. Towards daybreak 
 the rain ceased, but a dense fog lingered and 
 concealed the assaulting column though it was 
 only twelve hundred yards from the enemy s 
 intrenchments. At 4.30, tired as were Han 
 cock s men, they were ready to follow their 
 beloved commander, and at the word they 
 rushed forward in utter silence and without 
 firing a shot. First they toiled through a soft 
 marsh, then waded through a stagnant swamp, 
 then up a thickly wooded ascent, and when 
 they came within about four hundred yards of 
 the Rebel line they set up a great shout and 
 rushed forward on the double-quick up and 
 over the breastworks, and after a short but des 
 perate hand-to-hand contest with bayonets 
 and clubbed muskets, captured twenty pieces 
 of artillery, thirty stand of colors, and more 
 than four thousand prisoners, including two 
 generals and embracing most of Johnson s 
 division of Ewell s corps. Hancock at once 
 turned the captured guns against the enemy, 
 and advanced his own line a half-mile within 
 the Rebel intrenchments. The Second Corps 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 75 
 
 was now a wedge inserted between Lee s right 
 and centre, and if this wedge could have 
 been driven home, it would have shattered Lee s 
 line and put his army in jeopardy. But un 
 fortunately Hancock was unsupported, though 
 Warren was ordered to sustain him; and he 
 was compelled to fall back, though disputing 
 every inch of the ground, till he reached the 
 breastworks he had first taken by assault. 
 "These he turned, facing them the other way 
 and continued to hold." Against this line Lee 
 made five of the most terrific assaults ever flung 
 against a heroic foe, but in vain. For twenty 
 hours he continued the desperate struggle and 
 then a little after midnight drew back his 
 bleeding columns behind his second line of 
 intrenchments and gave up all further attempt 
 to regain his lost ground. 
 
 This was the most hotly contested field of 
 the whole war, and Hancock s share in it was 
 a masterpiece of brilliant execution followed 
 by a marvel of heroic pertinacity. Over the 
 comparatively small space where the battle 
 raged the fiercest, more than five thousand men 
 had fallen on the Union side alone. The ground 
 was literally covered with the slain in piles 
 three, four, and five deep, and sometimes the 
 wounded lay under the dead. Sometimes the 
 combatants were separated only by the breast- 
 
76 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 works, their rival colors almost touching in the 
 dread encounter. The whole forest within 
 range was mowed down by the fire of the 
 musketry, and yet one of the trees was an oak 
 twenty-two inches in diameter, and it was cut 
 in two with the bullets almost as clean as with 
 a saw. (Years after, the remaining trunk was 
 dug up by the roots and removed to the Na 
 tional Museum as a curious memento.) 
 
 On the left of our line Burnside had advanced 
 close to the enemy, and one of his divisions had 
 climbed over the parapet but was forced back. 
 Still he succeeded in keeping Lee from drawing 
 away troops to reinforce his centre, which 
 Hancock was threatening. On the right of our 
 line, both Wright and Warren were at differ 
 ent times withdrawn to support Hancock. 
 Wright, though wounded early in the day, re 
 mained on the field till midnight, and accom 
 plished all that could be asked. But Warren s 
 sluggish movements so nettled Grant, that he 
 gave written orders to Meade to relieve Warren 
 of his command if he failed again to move 
 promptly. I believe no one ever doubted 
 Warren s ability, but he seemed to have a con 
 stitutional incapacity for trusting his superiors 
 and for executing their commands in the spirit 
 in which they were given. Grant bore with 
 him as with others with wonderful patience, 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 77 
 
 but the first time Sheridan met Warren s dila- 
 toriness, as at Five Forks, he relieved him on 
 the spot. 
 
 In this battle at Spottsylvania Court House, 
 though no decisive strategic advantage was 
 gained by our arms, it was plain to be seen that 
 our army was beginning to acquire the habit 
 of driving the enemy instead of being driven. 
 Meade was here prompted to issue this con 
 gratulatory order to his troops: 
 
 "For eight days and nights almost without 
 intermission through rain and sunshine you 
 have been gallantly fighting a desperate foe in 
 positions naturally strong and made doubly so 
 by intrenchments. Your heroic deeds and noble 
 endurance will ever be memorable, and the 
 courage and fortitude you have displayed render 
 your commanding General confident that your 
 future efforts will result in success." 
 
 The next week, May I3th to 2Oth, was one 
 of almost constant rain, compelling the post 
 ponement of all offensive operations, except 
 now and then an effort to find a point where 
 the enemy s line could be broken. But each 
 attempt was repulsed, and on the 2Oth of May, 
 Grant determined to continue the strategic 
 movement which he had begun in the Wilder 
 ness, and by a flank march disengage the 
 enemy from his position. This was done by tak- 
 
78 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 ing Hancock s corps from the right of the army 
 and marching it by night behind the other corps 
 towards the left. It thus pushed southward 
 as far as Milford station on the Fredericksburg 
 & Richmond Railroad, and secured the bridge 
 across the Mattapony at that point. But the 
 same night on which Hancock started, Lee, 
 apprised of the movement by his scouts, sent 
 Longstreet with his corps down the Telegraph 
 Road to make sure of blocking the way between 
 Grant and Richmond. The next strategic 
 point of importance towards which both armies 
 now turned was Hanover Junction, where the 
 Central Railroad of Virginia meets that leading 
 from Richmond to Fredericksburg. It was 
 by the Central Railroad that the Confederates 
 received most of their supplies for it was the 
 most direct route of communication with the 
 Shenandoah Valley. The advance corps of 
 the Union army reached the North Anna, near 
 the place where it is crossed by the Fredericks 
 burg Railroad, on the afternoon of May 23d, 
 but only to find Lee strongly posted on the 
 opposite bank. Hancock s corps, however, 
 forced a passage across; while Warren s corps 
 crossed, wading waist-deep, at Jericho Ford 
 five miles above, and repulsed the enemy at 
 every point, taking nearly a thousand prisoners. 
 The Sixth Corps followed Warren, and thus 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 79 
 
 three corps were across. But when Burnside 
 attempted to cross at Ox Ford half-way be 
 tween the other two crossings he came upon 
 Lee s centre strongly intrenched, and was driven 
 back with great loss. Thus Lee had again 
 blocked Grant s direct line of march; for the 
 right and left wings of our army, although they 
 had made a brilliantly successful passage of the 
 river, were separated by several miles, and 
 neither could reinforce the other without mak 
 ing a double passage of the river. Lee had 
 formed his line very skilfully in the shape of an 
 obtuse angle with its blunt apex thrust out to 
 the North Anna River at Ox Ford, his right 
 thrown back towards the Hanover marshes 
 and his left resting on Little River. The more 
 this position was examined, the less did Grant 
 wish to attack it. So after spending two days 
 in various reconnoissances and destroying many 
 miles of the Central Railroad, he took up again 
 his movement by the left flank in order to com 
 pel Lee to come out of his intrenchments. 
 
 Sheridan s cavalry had just returned from 
 its raid towards Richmond, and was now ready 
 both to cover this new move of the Army of 
 the Potomac and to open the way before it. 
 To cover it and deceive the enemy, Sheridan 
 sent Wilson s division on the afternoon of 
 May 26th to make a strong demonstration on 
 
8o FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Lee s left flank; and, under cover of this, 
 Grant withdrew his right wing in perfect safety 
 to the north side of the river a very delicate 
 and dangerous movement happily accom 
 plished. Then Wilson s cavalry made itself 
 a rear guard, watching all the fords until the 
 infantry had crossed and were well on their 
 southern march, then taking up the pontoons 
 and destroying the other bridges. To open 
 the way before the advance of the infantry 
 Sheridan sent Gregg s and Torbert s divisions 
 to demonstrate heavily at Taylor s and Little- 
 page s Fords as if the Army of the Potomac was 
 to cross there, and then, leaving a small guard 
 to keep up the semblance of a strong demon 
 stration, both divisions pressed on to Hanover- 
 town Ford, crossed early on the morning of the 
 2yth and drove away the guards, and ad 
 vanced to Hanovertown, driving General Gor 
 don s brigade of Confederate cavalry in the 
 direction of Hanover Court House. Thus an 
 unobstructed crossing was secured for the in 
 fantry, and on the 28th it took up a position 
 south of the river, and Grant shifted his base 
 of supplies from Port Royal on the Rappahan- 
 nock to White House on the Pamunkey, where 
 steamers were already in waiting with rations 
 and reinforcements that had come by way of 
 Chesapeake Bay and York River. But though 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 8 1 
 
 Grant thus made an easy passage of the Pa- 
 munkey, he found that he could not continue 
 his advance over the Chickahominy without 
 a battle; for Lee had followed his movements 
 on interior and shorter lines and was now posted 
 on his line of march near Cold Harbor and with 
 numbers reinforced almost to the extent of 
 making up for his losses in the Wilderness and 
 at Spottsylvania. Sheridan opened the way 
 on the 28th for the Union advance towards 
 Cold Harbor, by dislodging the Confederate 
 cavalry which he found intrenched at Hawes 
 Shop, and which made a very stubborn fight 
 under Wade Hampton and Fitzhugh Lee, re 
 pelling the first attack by Gregg s division, but 
 yielding before their onset when reinforced by 
 Custer s brigade. 
 
 On the 3 ist Sheridan advanced towards 
 Cold Harbor the next important strategic 
 point, covering, as it did, the roads to White 
 House (the new base of supplies) and also the 
 roads along which Grant must march in his 
 next left flank movement to the James. This 
 movement was already determined upon on the 
 3Oth, when Grant asked General Halleck to 
 have all available pontoons sent to City Point. 
 Lee appreciated fully the importance of Cold 
 Harbor to himself as covering the roads to 
 Richmond and threatening Grant s march in 
 
82 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 flank, and he had already sent forward both 
 infantry and cavalry by forced marches to 
 occupy it. But Sheridan did not hesitate to 
 try to dislodge them, although he had only a 
 part of his command at hand. He directed 
 Torbert s division to attack the enemy in front 
 while Merritt with two regiments of regulars 
 passed round the enemy s left and attacked his 
 rear This stampeded the Confederates and left 
 Cold Harbor in his hands; but it was nine miles 
 away from the nearest infantry support, and 
 Sheridan knew that the enemy would return 
 reinforced, so he sent word to Grant that he 
 could not hold the place without support. 
 Grant sent back word to hold it at all hazards, 
 and at once started the Sixth Corps on a forced 
 march to the assistance of Sheridan, who im 
 mediately utilized the Confederate lines of in- 
 trenchments by turning them the other way. 
 He then disposed his thin line of dismounted 
 men behind them with boxes of ammunition 
 at hand, and passed the word that the place 
 must be held. All this was done in the night. 
 On the early morning of June ist, as expected, 
 the enemy returned reinforced with infantry, 
 and advanced at once to assault Sheridan s 
 position; but they were received with such a 
 hot carbine-fire at close range that they recoiled; 
 and though they rallied and made a second as- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 83 
 
 sault it was likewise repulsed, and before any 
 further attempt could be made to dislodge our 
 cavalrymen, the Sixth Corps arrived and se 
 cured the prize which Sheridan had so boldly 
 snatched and so bravely defended. A few 
 hours later Smith s corps arrived from But 
 ler s command, coming by way of White House; 
 and at six o clock, though they were very tired 
 and worn from their long, dusty, and hurried 
 march, they joined with Wright s corps in an 
 assault upon the Rebel lines, and together 
 they captured the first line of rifle-pits and seven 
 hundred prisoners. On the right of the Sixth 
 Corps, Warren held a skirmish line of four miles 
 which reached to Bethesda Church, and re 
 pulsed successfully three fierce assaults of the 
 enemy. Grant, who had several times been 
 vexed by Warren s sluggishness, was much 
 gratified by his strong and determined resistance 
 to Lee s desperate charges, and admitted that 
 "there was no officer more capable, no one 
 more prompt in acting, than Warren when the 
 enemy forced him to it." 
 
 We praise the dogged persistency with which 
 a general holds an important line, but do we 
 appreciate the individual heroisms that are the 
 essential elements of that success? Seldom, I 
 fear, unless we have some personal knowledge 
 of one or another who stands in the deadly 
 
84 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND TIMSON 
 
 breach and makes himself a shield against the 
 shots that are aimed at the nation s life. On 
 that line of battle that Warren that day held 
 was posted near Bethesda Church the Thir 
 teenth Massachusetts Infantry. Marshalled 
 in that regiment on that fiercely contested field 
 was my brother dearly beloved. His bullet- 
 pierced body, uncoffined and scarcely en 
 wrapped by the cannon-ploughed sod, lies 
 where he fell the soldier s chosen resting-place. 
 And though loving hearts would choose to 
 have some shrine to which to make a reverent 
 pilgrimage, and upon which to lay the offerings 
 of affectionate remembrance, yet we know 
 that, wherever they sleep, "the hallowed sod, 
 unknown to men, is marked of God." 
 
 "On Fame s eternal camping-ground 
 
 Their silent tents are spread, 
 And Glory guards in solemn round 
 The bivouac of the dead." 
 
 "Ye unknown heroes, sleeping where ye fell 
 In your forgotten graves! with secret shame 
 
 We feel our pulses beat, our foreheads burn, 
 When we remember ye have given so well 
 All that ye had of life, your very name, 
 
 And we can give you nothing in return" (Note 0). 
 
 When heroic youths thus pour out their 
 warm life-blood for freedom and fatherland, we 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 85 
 
 are apt to say What a dreadful waste! But 
 what more could they have done for the world 
 if they had lived a thousand years? What 
 higher attainment could they reach if they had 
 ages to climb? In one bound they leaped to 
 the highest moral and spiritual elevation, and, 
 having given all, they could no more. 
 
 June 2d was spent in making preparations for 
 the battle which was determined on for the 
 morrow. Lee had carefully fortified his lines 
 with earthworks, which his army had now 
 learned to make with great facility after the 
 experience of the month s campaign of defence; 
 for since the battles of the Wilderness Lee had 
 not ventured except in detached sallies to 
 take the offensive. It was much safer to fight 
 behind breastworks. These were, first, a layer 
 of stout logs, breast-high, forming the frame 
 work on which a thick parapet of earth would 
 be thrown up; then in front of this line the 
 timber for several hundred yards would be 
 felled, making an elaborately interlaced abatis; 
 and still in front of this almost impregnable 
 defence would be several lines of rifle-pits from 
 which would flame out death and destruction to 
 any approaching force. Yet even from these 
 jaws of hell our attacking columns had several 
 times plucked costly victories, and it was 
 hoped that success might now crown the efforts 
 
86 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 which sought, not without sacrifice, to reap 
 the fruits of patriotic devotion. But besides 
 the strong intrenchments which Lee had now 
 thrown up, his army was posted in a most 
 favorable position for defence, having the 
 Chickahominy to protect both flanks and also 
 his rear, while in front of his line were, here 
 almost impenetrable thickets, and there al 
 most impassable marshes. The Union forces 
 were drawn up with the right resting on 
 Totopotomoy Creek, and the left thrust be 
 yond Old Cold Harbor on the road to Dispatch 
 station. 
 
 The attack was ordered for half-past four on 
 the morning of June 3d, and was to be, as usual, 
 an assault along the whole line, another stroke 
 of the hammer in the hand of Grant to crush 
 out rebellion; but as yet the rebound of the 
 hammer from the rebellious anvil has in almost 
 every case in this campaign destroyed twice as 
 many as its fall has crushed. And now, sad to 
 tell! we are to see the hard necessity of weight 
 ing the hammer with ten patriots to crush one 
 rebel, so strong was the position to be assaulted. 
 The Union lines advanced as ordered, and 
 swept over the first part of the space between 
 the hostile intrenchments in as good order as 
 tearing through thickets and wading through 
 swamps would allow; but they were received 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 87 
 
 with such a terrible fire from behind the in- 
 trenchments, that only in a few places along 
 the whole line did any of our assaulting col 
 umns enter them, and then only to be beaten 
 back. The utmost that could be done was to 
 retain possession of an advanced position more 
 or less close to the enemy s lines. The loss in 
 this assault must have been ten thousand 
 within an hour, and the battle was all over 
 within two hours, with thirteen thousand as 
 the total loss on the Union side to as many 
 hundreds on the Confederate side. Heroic 
 deeds of valor that cannot here be detailed were 
 enacted in every part of the field. Sometimes 
 our lines were advanced and maintained within 
 fifteen yards of the enemy s earthworks, but no 
 valor could accomplish the impossible task of 
 taking them by direct assault; and so Grant 
 gave up the attempt to take Richmond from 
 the north and east. He always regretted that 
 he made this assault at Cold Harbor, for there 
 was no compensating gain to offset the terrible 
 suffering and loss. These were unnecessarily 
 aggravated by Lee s haughty and cruel refusal 
 to let the men lying wounded between the lines 
 be picked up by our unarmed hospital attend 
 ants. It took two days of negotiating to sat 
 isfy him as to the manner of their removal, 
 and then all but two had died. I can imagine 
 
88 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 no more harrowing picture of the horrors of 
 war than this of those hundreds of wounded 
 men in mortal agony within sight of easy relief 
 that never came. And yet this was not an 
 uncommon experience in that fearful Wilder 
 ness campaign when for thirty days Grant had 
 tried to get between Lee and Richmond and 
 had been thwarted. Through a long and 
 weary month our army had fought by day 
 only to march southward by night and renew 
 the fight on the morrow. But the enemy was 
 always vigilant and marched by parallel but 
 shorter lines; and after the battles of the Wil 
 derness Lee followed the safe policy of fighting 
 only behind intrenchments, or within safe dis 
 tance from them. Thus this month s campaign 
 was a running siege in which our army took 
 constantly the risk and exposure of the offensive, 
 and so our losses compared with that of the 
 Confederates were as three to one, and our 
 march from the Rapidan to the Chickahominy 
 had left eight thousand mangled corpses in its 
 bloody trail, while the wounded and the miss 
 ing carried the -fearful aggregate up to nearly 
 sixty thousand. 
 
 "Ah! never shall the land forget 
 
 How gushed the life-blood of her brave, 
 Gushed warm with hope and courage yet 
 Upon the soil they fought to save." 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 89 
 
 Having thus given up the attempt to take 
 Richmond from the north and east, Grant de 
 cided to change his base to City Point. This 
 changing of base in the face of a vigilant enemy 
 is the most critical of manoeuvres. It had 
 however been safely accomplished many times 
 in the course of this campaign as from Alex 
 andria to Aquia Creek, then to Port Royal, 
 then to White House and without the loss of 
 a single wagon, which is very wonderful con 
 sidering the immense train of four thousand 
 teams that followed the army, and considering 
 also that the supplies were generally drawn 
 from great distances and over narrow roads 
 and through a densely wooded country. The 
 change of base from White House to City 
 Point was accomplished in this wise: Immedi 
 ately after the Battle of Cold Harbor the Ninth 
 Corps was withdrawn from the extreme right 
 of the line on Totopotomoy Creek and posted on 
 the left of the Fifth Corps near Bethesda 
 Church. Then the Fifth Corps was withdrawn 
 and massed in rear of the centre at Cold Harbor, 
 ready to be moved to any portion of the line 
 if Lee should attack while this march to the 
 left was going on. As Lee did not attack, the 
 next day the Fifth Corps was transferred to 
 the left flank as far as Dispatch station on the 
 York River Railroad. In order more perfectly 
 
90 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 to cover this movement, Sheridan was sent 
 with two divisions of cavalry to make demon 
 strations on the north of Richmond and to 
 destroy more effectually the railroad connec 
 tion between Richmond and the Shenandoah 
 Valley, and Warren with the Fifth Corps and 
 Wilson s division of cavalry was sent across the 
 Chickahominy at Long Bridge to make a 
 demonstration towards Richmond by the route 
 of White Oak Swamp. Both these feints were 
 successful, and led Lee to detach infantry and 
 cavalry both towards the north to meet Sheri 
 dan and towards the south by way of New 
 market to meet Warren, who remained in his 
 threatening position while the Second Corps 
 marched across Long Bridge towards the 
 James River by the road to Charles City Court 
 House. The corps of Wright and Burnside 
 reached the same point by an exterior line, 
 crossing the Chickahominy by Jones Bridge, 
 while the wagon-trains crossed at Cole s Ferry, 
 still further south, and the Eighteenth Corps, 
 under Gen. W. F. Smith, marched to White 
 House, where it took transports and went by 
 water to Bermuda Hundred. Grant crossed 
 the James at Windmill Point on pontoons, Lee 
 crossed near Drury s Bluff, and both started on 
 a race for Petersburg; but Lee as usual won 
 the race by reason of his marching on interior 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 91 
 
 lines and his having a lighter equipment, and 
 this time he had besides a railroad on which he 
 could hurry forward his men. Lee intrenched 
 at once before Petersburg, and was able to 
 make his works so strong that after several 
 attempts on the part of the Union forces to 
 take them by assault Grant settled down to 
 a regular siege, and those lines were not pierced 
 till the following spring, a few days before the 
 end of the war, and as the result of the Battle 
 of Five Forks. 
 
 While these grander movements of the main 
 army of the east were going on as I have de 
 scribed, two other movements were progress 
 ing which were intended to contribute to the 
 general result in Virginia. One was by Gen 
 eral Butler with the Eighteenth Corps, under 
 Gen. W. F. Smith, and the Tenth Corps, under 
 Gen. Q. A. Gilmore, and a division of cavalry 
 under General Kautz. With this force Butler 
 started from Fortress Monroe the very day that 
 Grant crossed the Rapidan, ascended the 
 James River on transports, and effected a 
 landing at Bermuda Hundred on the 6th of 
 May. At that moment he might very easily 
 have taken Petersburg, and so have compelled 
 Lee either to give up Richmond or bring his 
 army at once to its defence; but the oppor 
 tunity was not improved, and the very next 
 
92 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 day General Beauregard arrived from the 
 South with sufficient force not only to protect 
 Petersburg but to drive Butler behind his in- 
 trenchments and to "bottle him up" in Ber 
 muda Hundred. Here he remained hermeti 
 cally sealed till Grant uncorked him from his 
 position by his own arrival at City Point with 
 the Army of the Potomac. 
 
 The other movement, subsidiary to the 
 grand one against Lee s army, was up the 
 Shenandoah Valley, first by Sigel, who was de 
 feated by Breckenridge at Newmarket, May 
 1 5th, and driven back to Cedar Creek; then by 
 Hunter, who on the 5th of June met the Con 
 federates at Piedmont and defeated them, 
 capturing fifteen hundred prisoners. Nothing 
 then prevented him from advancing on Lynch- 
 burg, which he reached June i6th; but here he 
 was met by General Early, who had been de 
 tached from Lee s army with twelve thousand 
 men. Hunter, being without sufficient am 
 munition to give battle, retired towards Lexing 
 ton by way of Kanawha, destroying in his 
 march the Virginia & Tennessee Railroad over 
 an extent of one hundred and thirty-five miles. 
 
 The Shenandoah Valley being thus left un 
 protected, General Early seized the opportunity 
 and made a swift and unobstructed march to 
 Martinsburg, arriving the 3d of July. Sigel, 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 93 
 
 who held post there with a small force, at once 
 retreated across the Potomac at Shepherds- 
 town, and Early pursued his march by way of 
 Williamsport and Hagarstown to Frederick, 
 arriving July 7th. 
 
 Here I will leave him to follow less impor 
 tant but more personally interesting events 
 nearer Washington, where, of course, all was 
 excitement and trepidation, as the only force at 
 hand to protect the Capital was a body of foot- 
 artillerists, hundred days men, and convales 
 cents, a few thousand in all, and these without 
 organization or discipline, and a small cavalry 
 force under Colonel Lowell, then stationed at 
 Falls Church, about fifteen miles from Wash 
 ington. 
 
 As soon as it was known in Washington on 
 July 4, 1864, that General Early was approach 
 ing Martinsburg, orders were given to our 
 brigade of cavalry to observe the passes of the 
 Blue Ridge, and give notice of any approach of 
 the enemy from that quarter. The order 
 reached us on the afternoon of July 4th, while 
 we were celebrating the anniversary of inde 
 pendence with athletic games and testing the 
 running speed of our horses. Colonel Lowell at 
 once ordered out Major Forbes with one hun 
 dred and fifty men, and as the surgeons were 
 fully occupied with hospital duties, they asked 
 
94 FIELD, CAiMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 me to go along and carry bandages and brandy, 
 to be ready to care for the wounded in case of 
 need. We started out at eight o clock, and at 
 midnight halted at Ball s Mill on Goose Creek, 
 lying down under arms by the feet of our 
 horses, and holding the bridle-rein in our hands, 
 to be ready to remount at a moment s warn 
 ing, as we were now in the region infested with 
 guerrillas. We were ordered to be ready to 
 march again at three, so we tried to make our 
 selves as comfortable as we could and to get a 
 little sleep. I made my bed as usual with two 
 fence rails nearly parallel and a piece of a third 
 rail across them for a pillow, but that night I 
 did not have my usual luck, and spent the 
 greater part of the first hour trying vainly to 
 find the soft side of my sharply angular pillow. 
 I at last got up and searched out another rail 
 with blunter edges. Then as I began to get 
 drowsy a detail from the picket-guard brought 
 in a guerrilla and roused us, and the Major 
 after getting from him all the information that 
 he could told our sentry to keep him under 
 guard. Somehow I did not feel sleepy after 
 that, for I thought what if the sentry should 
 relax his vigilance and the captive should 
 butcher us in our sleep! Still, tired nature 
 would have its way, and I began to fall off again 
 to slumber, when I was awakened by the shak- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 95 
 
 ing of my bed. As I looked up, what was my 
 horror to find that the prisoner had coolly seated 
 himself on the bottom of my fence-rail couch, 
 preferring it evidently to a lower seat though it 
 be on the sacred soil of Virginia. At that mo 
 ment the first sentry was relieved and a fresh 
 guard put on duty, and, as I thus felt a little 
 more secure, I would not disturb my guerrilla- 
 guest, but lay down again, resolved to snatch 
 a little sleep in the last hour of our halt. But 
 my horse had somehow got the idea that we were 
 going to move early, and persisted in nibbling 
 away at the grass about my head, so as not to 
 start without rations, and from time to time, 
 with undue familiarity, he would pull away 
 at my coat, showing, as some others, little 
 "respect for the cloth," and so I failed to get 
 even a wink of sleep. 
 
 We started again at three o clock, and as the 
 first rays of the sun began to gild the summits of 
 the Catocktin Hills just before us we dashed 
 into Leesburg, hoping to surprise the Rebels in 
 their sleep; but they were all out with Mosby, 
 and, without our knowing it, were that night 
 only a few miles away, concealed in the woods 
 near Waterford on the opposite slope of the 
 mountain. We spent this day and the next 
 scouting up and down between Aldie and Lees- 
 burg, watching the gaps of the Blue Ridge, 
 
96 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 through which Early might possibly make a 
 descent upon Washington. At half-past five 
 in the afternoon of the second day we stopped 
 on the Aldie pike near Mount Zion Church, to 
 rest and get supper. Just as we were about to 
 remount at half-past six we were startled to 
 hear a rapid firing by our pickets who were 
 posted about a quarter of a mile down the pike, 
 and the Major at once formed us in a double 
 line of battle in the field and across the road, 
 facing the firing. Capt. Goodwin Stone of 
 Newburyport commanded the first rank, and 
 Lieut. C. W. Amory of Boston and Brookline 
 had charge of the second rank. The formation 
 was scarcely completed before a shell (from 
 Mosby s twelve-pounder Napoleon gun) came 
 whizzing over the heads of the men in these 
 two ranks, and exploded right behind them 
 and within a few feet of where I was standing 
 with the Major. It was the first time any of 
 us had been treated to shells of that kind for 
 supper, and both horses and men were very 
 much demoralized, and the solid formation of 
 the line was completely broken, and before 
 it could be re-formed, Mosby and his rangers 
 were upon us, swooping down like Indians, 
 yelling like fiends, discharging their pistols with 
 fearful rapidity, and threatening to completely 
 envelop our little band. The Major tried to 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 97 
 
 meet the emergency by ordering the first and 
 third platoons of the front rank to deploy as 
 skirmishers and so extend our line to the 
 breadth of the attacking force. Captain Stone 
 repeated the order, but the men were either too 
 confused to hear it or too frightened to obey it. 
 At this crisis, when the men were making no 
 organized resistance and firing only at random, 
 some men indeed in the rear rank firing 
 through the front rank and doing more harm 
 to friends than to foes, I said, "Major, what 
 shall we do?" He answered, "We will form 
 again in the edge of the woods," pointing to a 
 grove a few hundred yards to the right of our 
 rear. Upon the word, he drew his sabre and 
 dashed along the front of the broken line amid 
 a shower of bullets, trying to inspire the men 
 with courage, and shouting to them: "Form 
 in the woods! Form in the woods!" And I 
 echoed the shout among the men who were 
 breaking from the ranks under the hot fire, and 
 we all galloped across the field towards the 
 woods. But thus presenting our flank to direct 
 assault, Mosby saw his opportunity and ordered 
 his reserves to charge, and thus the field for us 
 was lost, for before we could reach the shelter 
 of the woods, the whole force of the guerrillas 
 was upon us, turning our retreat into a rout. 
 No words can picture the confusion and horror 
 
98 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 of that scene, horses madly leaping in the 
 pangs of death, riders crushed beneath their 
 ruthless feet; then the panic-stricken crowd 
 galloping over their fallen companions, and 
 closely followed by the insolent foe; here and 
 there a rally, as some brave spirit, scorning de 
 feat, inspired a little courage in his companions 
 and turned to face the enemy but only to 
 die. One of these, and pre-eminent among the 
 rest, was our gallant Major, who turned his 
 horse towards the Rebels, and shouting to his 
 men, "Now rally round your leader," attempted 
 almost alone to stem the assault, and made a 
 sabre thrust at Mosby himself, which would 
 have ended the career of the most famous of the 
 "Partisan Rangers," but for one of his faithful 
 followers Capt. Thomas W. Richards throw 
 ing himself between and receiving the thrust in 
 the shoulder. Just at that moment Mosby, 
 aiming his six-shooter at Forbes, happily missed, 
 though at short range; but the Major s horse 
 was shot under him, and fell, pinning him to 
 the ground, and he surrendered; but a hot 
 headed guerrilla dashed up and took aim, and 
 would have shot the prostrate Major but for 
 his faithful bugler, who threw himself between 
 and delayed the fatal shot. Thus the life of 
 the leader of each band was saved by the heroic 
 self-devotion of one of his followers, and the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 99 
 
 dark horrors of the battlefield were illumined 
 by the brilliant radiance of Christian self-sacri 
 fice. "Greater love hath no man than this, 
 that a man lay down his life for his friends." 
 
 While this scene was enacting in one part of 
 the field, I was trying with Captain Stone, in 
 another part of the field and nearer the woods, 
 to stop the flight of our men and to form them 
 again in a defensive line; but it was impossible. 
 It was easy for them to persuade themselves 
 that the day was lost, and that the nearest duty 
 was for each to look out for himself. A de 
 moralized cavalryman is far more unmanage 
 able than an infantryman in the same situa 
 tion; for himself and his horse are both bent 
 on flying, and the rider easily satisfies his con 
 science by shifting the responsibility of re 
 treat on his unmanageable steed. Still the 
 Captain and I, as we galloped along, tried to 
 reassure the men, and we shouted at the top 
 of our lungs, "Halt! Halt!" but in vain; for 
 every moment they heard more plainly and per 
 suasively some whistling bullet from the pur 
 suing guerrillas screaming, "Skedaddle! Ske 
 daddle!" and so they did at the top of their 
 speed. Panic knows no law either in its ori 
 gin or growth, and sometimes seizes men before 
 they are aware, and spreads from one to an 
 other like wild-fire. I would not have any 
 
100 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 one think that these flying troopers were all 
 of them cowards. It was the first time for 
 most of them to be under fire. We shall see 
 later the record which they made for them 
 selves in the Shenandoah Valley and at Five 
 Forks, and recognize that no stouter courage 
 and no finer devotion were ever exhibited in the 
 annals of battle. But now the fates seemed 
 against them, and they were flying madly from 
 the foe, who were as madly giving us chase. 
 Captain Stone, however, with great coolness 
 and with splendid pluck turned, and for a 
 moment succeeded in holding a handful of his 
 men, who poured one volley into the ranks of 
 the pursuers, but he himself received a bullet- 
 wound and fell forward upon his horse s neck. 
 It was a fatal wound, as the ball lodged in his 
 spine. But though he was partially paralyzed, 
 he had strength enough left to hold on, and for 
 a few moments he galloped along with me; as 
 however the guerrillas were sharply pursuing, 
 and he was conscious that he could do no more 
 in the way of rallying his men, he took the first 
 opportunity of escape, and dashed into a wood- 
 road branching to the left, and was lost under 
 cover of the forest. I never saw him more. I 
 learned long after that his faithful steed car 
 ried him helpless as he was fourteen miles 
 towards camp, and he was, the next day, picked 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 101 
 
 up by our ambulances and taken to our camp 
 at Fall s Church, where, though every atten 
 tion that love and skill could suggest was lav 
 ished upon him, he died July 18, 1864, gladly 
 giving his fresh young life for a cause which 
 as he said was "worthy of all the sacrifice 
 which a mysterious Providence calls upon us 
 to make." His last word to me was, "Save 
 yourself, Chaplain." But I was the only officer 
 now left on the road, and I felt that I ought to 
 do what I could for the men who were ahead of 
 me galloping madly away. So I put spurs to 
 my horse and soon caught up with them, and 
 was advising them not to urge their horses to 
 death, when the guerrillas were again upon us, 
 and a volley from them brought one of our 
 men who was in front of me to the ground, and 
 my horse had to leap over him as he fell. Under 
 these circumstances there was not much use 
 advising moderation, though in a long chase it 
 was the surest safety. We had already been 
 pursued for three miles; and since it seemed 
 as if the guerrillas were determined to catch us, 
 I began, as I dashed along behind the rest of 
 our men, to put myself and horse into the light 
 est running order. I pulled off my gauntlets, 
 unstrapped my overcoat and oatbag from the 
 saddle, and threw them away. In a few 
 moments I came upon one of our men whose 
 
102 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 horse had been urged beyond his strength and 
 had broken a blood-vessel and in falling had 
 pinned his rider under him. Not recognizing 
 me as I galloped along, he took me for one of 
 the enemy, and shouted, "I surrender." And 
 I heard the shout repeated behind me as the 
 guerrillas came up, and I saw one of them re 
 gardless of the Union soldier s defenceless con 
 dition shoot at him as he passed. Things 
 began to look desperate for me. I seemed to 
 be chased by demons. I did not know at the 
 time what I learned afterwards that the 
 leader himself of the guerrillas Colonel Mosby 
 and a dozen picked men (among them Ed 
 monds and Munson) were pursuing me so per 
 sistently because they thought I was " Yankee 
 Davis" a native Virginian who knew all the 
 country about and the haunts of the guerrillas, 
 and who usually, though not this time, acted 
 as a guide for our troopers in their raids into 
 the enemy s country. Colonel Mosby knew 
 his value to our side and would have given 
 everything if he could catch and hang him. I 
 had been thus singled out on the field and mis 
 taken for him because I was riding a roan- 
 colored horse, and the only other of that stripe 
 in the brigade was " Yankee Davis ." So if I 
 had been caught, the chances would have been 
 "quick shrift and short rope." But, as luck 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 103 
 
 would have it, my horse was fresh and tough, 
 and I think Mosby s must have been worn 
 and tired. For he was said to have been the 
 best-mounted man in Virginia, and he seldom 
 travelled along main roads, but took a bee-line 
 across fields regardless of walls and fences and 
 ditches. And yet he had not overtaken me 
 in a chase of six miles, and my horse had not 
 been pushed beyond his mettle, and showed no 
 signs of exhaustion. But I did not like the 
 direction in which I was going, although it was 
 towards camp and safety. I felt that I ought 
 not thus to be running away from the field 
 where the wounded needed nursing and the 
 dying needed comfort and companionship. 
 And as I was now alone the rest of our flying 
 troopers being well ahead and safe from cap 
 ture I resolved to turn into the woods at the 
 first favorable opportunity, and if still pur 
 sued take to my legs and hide in the thickets. 
 Among the athletes of my Class in College 
 I was accounted the fastest runner, and I felt 
 confident I could thus elude my pursuers with 
 out getting much farther away from the field. 
 So, putting my horse to a final spurt to get out 
 of sight of my pursuers if possible, just past a 
 sharp bend in the road I dashed into the woods 
 lying down flat on my horse s neck, so as 
 not to be caught, as Absalom was, by the 
 
104 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 branches. But, even thus, the low limbs 
 caught my hat. They spared my head, how 
 ever, leaving it in its place with only a few 
 scratches; and Mosby lost my trail, and the 
 hunt was up. More than thirty years after 
 this adventure, I went to hear Mosby lecture 
 in Boston in Tremont Temple, and having been 
 introduced to him as the Chaplain of the Sec 
 ond Massachusetts Cavalry, I asked, "Do you 
 remember me?" He replied, "No, but I 
 remember your horse." It was the uncommon 
 color of my horse that came so near being my 
 undoing. But having thus escaped from the 
 open road I still feared that he might follow 
 and search the woods. So I dismounted and 
 hid my horse in a thicket, and going to a little 
 distance but within sight, threw myself on the 
 ground to listen for the first sound of any 
 approach. Thus waiting about twenty min 
 utes till I felt confident that the guerrillas were 
 out of the way and had returned to the field 
 to gather up their booty and carry off their 
 prisoners, I started forth to find my hat. But 
 it was now nearing eight o clock, and I soon 
 decided that I could not waste the precious 
 moments in a search that promised to be fruit 
 less in the fast-gathering darkness. So I re 
 mounted, and taking the road over which I 
 had just galloped, I walked my horse that I 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 105 
 
 might not pass without notice any wounded 
 man. I felt sure that there were at least two 
 wounded men somewhere along the road, for 
 I had seen them fall in the chase. As I felt my 
 way along in the darkness, I kept calling out, 
 "Is any wounded man here?" and soon I 
 heard a low response and found the man whose 
 disabled horse had in falling pinned him to the 
 ground, and who was shot after he surrendered. 
 It was Owen Fox, a private in my regiment who 
 had enlisted from Braintree. He was very 
 weak, and I at once gave him some brandy, but 
 I could not in the darkness bind up his wound. 
 So I hurried to the nearest house and with 
 some trembling knocked at the door. Every 
 farmhouse in this section was a refuge for 
 guerrillas, and every farmer was an ally of 
 Mosby, and every farmer s son was with him or 
 in the Confederate army. But I felt that suf 
 fering humanity would make a strong appeal, 
 and I was not, in this case, mistaken. I in 
 duced the farmer to lend me a lantern and a 
 blanket and to assist me in carrying the 
 wounded man to his house. As soon as I saw 
 the wound, I saw also that it was mortal. The 
 cruel shot fired after he had surrendered and 
 while he begged for mercy had pierced his 
 body completely through. With wet com 
 presses I was able to stay the flow of blood, and 
 
106 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 leaving him in charge of the farmer s wife, I 
 sallied forth again into the darkness with lan 
 tern and blanket, the farmer accompanying me, 
 and at last found the other soldier whom I had 
 seen fall in the chase, and we carried him into 
 the house. He was a New Yorker, and his 
 wound was severe but not necessarily fatal. It 
 was now eleven o clock, and I was several miles 
 from the battlefield. I wanted very much to 
 get to it, but I feared that I could not find my 
 way in the darkness. So I concluded to watch 
 over these two wounded men through the 
 night, and then in the morning to press on to 
 the care of the wounded on the field. It was 
 not long before it became evident that Fox 
 could not live many hours; for his strength was 
 fast ebbing away through that ghastly wound, 
 spite of my efforts to stanch it. I tried to get 
 from him some message for his wife and little 
 ones at home, but he would not his agonies 
 were too great; and he kept crying out even 
 with his dying groans, "Chaplain, they shot 
 me after I surrendered." He passed away at 
 three o clock. Then, having done all I could 
 for the other wounded man, I lay down on the 
 floor by his side between him and the dead 
 soldier and snatched an hour s sleep. 
 
 I arose again at four with the first rays of 
 dawn, and started out to see if I could find my 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 107 
 
 hat, which I had lost when I dashed into the 
 woods the night before. I could get along in 
 the evening without it, as I did, and felt no harm, 
 but I could not go forth without it under a July 
 sun. So, though the chance of finding it seemed 
 very small, I felt that I must make the attempt. 
 But what was my dismay, as I sallied forth, 
 to discover that my horse, which I had hitched 
 just outside the house, had been stolen in the 
 night. Not to speak of the bereavement of 
 losing the faithful steed who had carried me 
 through many perilous journeys and had saved 
 my life in the chase the night before, what could 
 I do without him, left as I was, alone in the 
 enemy s country, and thirty miles from any 
 possible succor? But I could not stop to ques 
 tion; a soldier never expects to know what a 
 day will bring forth, and learns to scorn trifles 
 and to make the best of what does come. So, 
 weary as I was after three almost sleepless 
 nights, I set out to walk over the road along 
 which I had been pursued, thinking I might 
 perhaps recognize the sharp turn behind which 
 I had escaped into the woods. I bound my 
 handkerchief over my head for protection from 
 the morning damps, and as a safeguard I wound 
 a white bandage about my waist and shoulder, 
 like an officer s sash, in token of my peaceful 
 mission, and as an extemporized flag of truce 
 
108 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 to keep guerrillas from firing upon me without 
 warning. I soon found the advantage of this 
 precaution, for as I was climbing a rather sharp 
 ascent in the road I was startled with a harsh 
 challenge from behind the crest of the hill 
 "Halt! Who goes there?" and I was immedi 
 ately aware of a seven-shooter carbine levelled 
 at me, and a rough-looking guerrilla behind it 
 with his hand on the trigger. I answered as 
 respectfully as the occasion required, "A chap 
 lain, looking after the wounded." As I had 
 no arms, he allowed me to advance, and, a 
 short parley persuading him of my humane 
 mission and my peaceable intent, he allowed me 
 to go my way with my simple parole of honor 
 that I would give no information that day that 
 would harm Mosby or his men. I soon found 
 my hat in the woods, and immediately returned 
 with fresh courage to my temporary hospital; 
 and after caring for the wounded soldier, I bor 
 rowed a spade of the farmer and, selecting an 
 attractive spot under a tree a little distance from 
 the house, I began to dig a grave for the decent 
 burial of the body of Owen Fox, when to my 
 great delight I saw my horse approaching, and 
 I said to myself, The thief has heard that I am 
 a non-combatant and attending to the wounded, 
 and has concluded to give me back my horse. 
 And I laughingly said to the rider as he ap- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 109 
 
 preached, "Well! you ve got a good horse 
 there." But my laughter was suddenly changed 
 to heaviness as he replied, cocking his pistol 
 and taking aim at me, "You re my prisoner." 
 I at once explained to him my mission, and the 
 laws of war that shielded chaplains and sur 
 geons in the discharge of their duties on the 
 field; but he simply presented the shotted and 
 unanswerable argument of his well-aimed pistol, 
 and I yielded as gracefully as I could to the 
 inevitable. Still I begged a few minutes to 
 finish the burial; but he would not delay one 
 moment, and I had to leave the exposed body, 
 and the half-made grave, and the wounded 
 soldier in the house. But I charged the farmer 
 to care for the living and to bury the dead, and 
 begged of him to go to the scene of the battle 
 and with my outfit do what he could for the 
 wounded, and then I started breakfastless on a 
 long and tedious tramp. My captor, having 
 no pity for the dying and no consideration for 
 the dead, of course had no compassion for me. 
 He made me walk in front, he keeping his pistol 
 well in hand. My horse seemed to appreciate 
 the shame of seeing his master driven before 
 him, and hung his head in pity. Hungry and 
 weary as I was, my inhuman driver urged me 
 forward mile after mile beneath the burning sun, 
 under the plea that I must catch up with those 
 
1 10 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 who had been captured the night before and 
 so had twelve hours the start of me in their sad 
 journey to prison. He wreaked his spite against 
 the Union cause by singing to me Rebel songs 
 and ballads in praise of the various Confederate 
 leaders. He expected, by bringing in an officer 
 as prisoner, to win favor and promotion with 
 Mosby, and in this he succeeded. For I find, 
 in an account of this fight written and published 
 by one of Mosby s aids, this entry: "There was 
 one act of heroism of which I cannot refrain 
 from speaking. It was the conduct of young 
 Martin who, having his horse shot under him 
 early in the action, pursued the enemy on foot, 
 and returned to camp mounted on a fine horse 
 with one prisoner." I agree with the record 
 that he was "mounted on a fine horse," but if 
 it was "an act of heroism" to steal that horse 
 from his hitch outside the house on a dark 
 night, and then to drive before the muzzle of his 
 pistol an unarmed chaplain to prison, then we 
 can only say that among guerrillas honors were 
 easy. This young Martin was a typical free 
 booter, enjoying the service on account of its 
 adventure and its opportunity to range freely 
 over a country where every house was open to 
 him, and the young ladies doted upon him as one 
 of their fearless defenders. He took pride in 
 stopping at the houses along our way and pa- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 III 
 
 rading his captured horse and his clerical 
 plunder. Although I was so exhausted before 
 noon that I had to drag myself along very 
 wearily, it was not, however, because I was 
 not in the lightest marching order; for every 
 now and then something I had about me ex 
 cited my captor s thieving propensities, and he 
 would demand it with a gesture towards his 
 pistol that could not be denied. Thus I was 
 relieved in succession of my watch, my gold 
 pencil, my steel spurs, my knife, my money, 
 my photographs of friends at home, and at last 
 he insisted on swapping hats with me. I had 
 always prided myself on my shrewdness at a 
 bargain, but I must confess that in this case 
 the Virginia chivalry got the better of me. I 
 had now nothing left that this highway robber 
 could take, except a memorial ring enclosing 
 a lock of the hair of my college chum Capt. 
 Thomas B. Fox of the Second Massachusetts 
 Infantry, who was fatally wounded at Gettys 
 burg. No sentiment of reverence for the 
 honored dead kept my captor from coveting 
 this bit of gold, so useless to him, so precious to 
 me (Note io). But he had not the face to take it 
 himself. About two o clock he stopped to dine 
 at a farmhouse, and while he was inside, the 
 farmer was instructed to guard me and to take 
 from me the ring. Two small biscuits were 
 
112 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 allowed me here and they were the only food I 
 tasted that day. Fortunately for me there were 
 many running brooks in the country through 
 which I walked, and at every one of them I 
 stretched myself prone upon the ground and 
 drank my fill. There were yet ten more weary 
 miles to travel before we should reach Rector- 
 town, but I accomplished it by nine o clock. 
 The latter part of the way I was very much 
 exhausted, and once I felt that I could go no 
 farther. My captor, feeling the importance to 
 himself of getting to camp and a comfortable 
 bed, dismounted and assisted me upon Jaques, 
 my old-time pet, and let me ride on pain of 
 instant death if I attempted to escape. My 
 horse cheered up with his accustomed rider, 
 and walked with fresh life, but only for a few 
 minutes. Young Martin quickly concluded 
 that the risk of losing his prisoner was too 
 great, and making an excuse that his boots 
 pinched, he made me dismount, and let me 
 cling to the stirrup-strap; and so I dragged 
 myself along the rest of the way. 
 
 Reaching Rectortown, I was locked up in 
 a room in Mosby s headquarters, with only 
 the bare floor to sleep upon. But I was tired 
 enough to sleep standing, and I knew nothing 
 till I was awakened in the early morning by 
 Mosby s adjutant, and lectured upon the sin 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 113 
 
 of invading the South and committing sacrilege 
 upon the sacred soil of Virginia. I did not 
 care to argue with him, but asked if I might 
 not see Colonel Mosby, for whom I had some 
 respect, and who, I believed, would send me 
 back to the care of the wounded on the field 
 of our defeat. But the Adjutant, swollen with 
 his little brief authority, haughtily answered: 
 "No! You re a damned abolitionist preacher, 
 and you ve got to suffer for it." This honor 
 able impeachment was not exactly deserved; 
 for though I respected the abolitionists in 
 dividually I did not approve of their radical 
 methods, and of course had never preached 
 their doctrines. Still I hated slavery and was 
 not unwilling to bear my part in expiating, 
 even vicariously, the offence of my native State 
 in leading towards its overthrow. The Adju 
 tant then sent me out with one of his men 
 into a field to catch a mule, as I must be 
 mounted to overtake the other prisoners who 
 were now several miles ahead on their way to 
 Lynchburg. These mules in the field were the 
 exhausted animals from the service and put 
 out to pasture to recruit. They were mere 
 skeletons, and to mount one was like riding a 
 rail. Still I was compelled to ride bareback; 
 and a fresh guard, mounted on a fresh horse, 
 took my mule s bridle rein and led him for- 
 
114 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 ward as fast as he could be induced to go. 
 This ride of fifteen miles was harder if possible 
 than the thirty miles walk of the previous 
 day. Every added mile made the mule more 
 excruciatingly thin. I was almost cut in twain, 
 and as I came into camp where the other 
 prisoners were resting at noon, the spectacle I 
 presented should have drawn tears, but instead 
 they all set up a great shout of laughter and 
 cheers of laughter at the irresistibly ludicrous 
 sight of their chaplain balancing himself on his 
 hands lest he should be bisected by the back 
 bone of a broken-down mule, and of cheers 
 because they were so glad to have unexpected 
 companionship in their misery. The prisoners 
 numbered fifty-five Major Forbes, Lieutenant 
 Amory, Lieutenant Burns, and myself, with 
 fifty-one privates. I at once took all their 
 names, so that if we were separated and I 
 should first be released, I might inform their 
 friends of their fate. As it was, our families did 
 not know whether we were killed, wounded, or 
 prisoners. 
 
 We camped that night in an open field 
 chosen so that a few guards only would be 
 required to pace their beats through the night 
 and keep any of us from running away. We 
 had no bed but the ground, no covering but 
 the sky. The stars were more companionable 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 115 
 
 than our guards, and for me a few chosen con 
 stellations had happy messages of love from 
 dear ones at home, who had promised to think 
 of me every night they could be seen. There 
 was need of this bread of heaven to sustain our 
 hearts, for we had little food for any other 
 hunger. The day before, I had as I have 
 said two small biscuits. This day we had a 
 little flour foraged from a mill near by where 
 we camped for the night. We mixed the flour 
 with water from the stream, and baked it 
 over extemporized wood-fires; but it was very 
 tough and, without salt, rather tasteless. 
 
 Next morning we started again at four 
 o clock without breakfast, and walked all day, 
 with a short rest at noon, when our guards 
 fed on the fat of the land, and each of us had a 
 small piece of dry bread. At nine o clock we 
 went supperless to bed in an open field. 
 
 Next day was Sunday, and we started, with 
 out breakfast, at half-past three, and got noth 
 ing to eat till we reached Orange Court House 
 at noon. Thus I had gone seventy miles in 
 three and a half days, having had only three 
 meals, and they consisted, all told, only of two 
 biscuits, a small cake of flour and water, and a 
 small piece of dry bread. At Orange Court 
 House we were fed on cold corncake and un 
 cooked pork, and then put into box cars and 
 
Il6 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 transported to Gordonsville. These cars had 
 been used for carrying cattle and had not been 
 cleaned, nor would the guards let us clean them; 
 and at night we were herded together in a 
 cattle-yard, and had to sleep upon the ground 
 noisome with filth. Here we were kept till 
 noon the next day, when we were huddled again 
 into box cars and had a journey of seven hours 
 to Lynchburg, where we were confined in a 
 large tobacco-warehouse already in use as a 
 prison. It had three floors, covered with dirt 
 and vermin, and six hundred and fifty Union 
 soldiers of whom two hundred were wounded 
 and without medical attendance, their wounds 
 festering with gangrene from exhaustion and 
 neglect. The upper story was a mere attic, 
 and as it was very shallow and covered with a 
 tin roof, it was too hot to be habitable in the 
 daytime. So, as all the rest of the floor-space 
 was crowded, those who slept on the upper floor 
 at night had no refuge in the daytime but to 
 stand or lie on the ground in the prison-yard 
 under the direct rays of the summer sun. We, 
 the officers, had an extra guard and were shut 
 into a little side-room about twelve feet square 
 and as filthy as the rest. In this, eighteen of 
 us were to try to live we knew not how long. 
 
 I gave myself, at once, to efforts to relieve 
 the sick and the wounded. Their first neces- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 117 
 
 sity was fitting food but there was no hope of 
 getting that. I thought, however, that I 
 might get a few simple medicines and proper 
 bandages; and so I wrote a note describing the 
 pitiable condition of the wounded, and I was 
 permitted by one of the guards to send it by 
 the hand of a friendly negro to the chief steward 
 of College Hospital, where, a few rods away 
 from our prison, the Confederate wounded and 
 sick were treated. The only answer I received 
 was this verbal message "You shall have 
 nothing. We must get rid of the Yankees in 
 one way or another." All we could then do 
 was to take for bandages pieces of worn-out 
 clothing that the negroes smuggled in for us, 
 and to keep the wounds as clean as we could 
 by frequent washings in water. But without 
 sufficient food and with no stimulants, the 
 mortality was frightful, and the dead-cart 
 trundled heavily with its daily holocaust of 
 victims on the altar of Confederate cruelty. 
 No words can adequately describe the horrors 
 of that prison life. There seemed to be a 
 studied effort to annoy us by withholding the 
 thousand little comforts and conveniences that 
 could easily have been given, and there was 
 evident a deliberate plan to undermine our 
 health by close confinement and insufficient 
 food. The floor upon which we lay was not 
 
Il8 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 fit for cattle, and the meat that was served to 
 us, a decent dog would refuse. No letters or 
 comforts from home were allowed us, though 
 our friends were continually sending them 
 under promise of safe delivery by the Confed 
 erates. But the keenest torture was provided 
 for us in the deception practised in giving us 
 the news from the armies in the field. It was 
 well understood that if we lost heart and hope, 
 we should be sure to lose health and strength. 
 At this time we were told that Early had cap 
 tured Washington and that the Confederacy 
 was about to be acknowledged. And yet the 
 truth was that Early was then skedaddling 
 away from Washington as fast as he could 
 barely saving the booty he had gathered in his 
 hasty raid into Maryland. 
 
 In Lynchburg one of my messmates, Lieut. 
 C. W. Amory, who had been wounded before 
 he was taken prisoner, began to show signs of 
 failing strength, and his troubles were aggra 
 vated by the coarse and unpalatable food. It 
 seemed necessary that he should have white 
 bread in place of the irritating corn meal. 
 The only way to get the white bread was to 
 buy it of the Confederates. But all our money 
 had been filched from us by our captors. I 
 managed, however, to get some by trading 
 off my top-boots for a pair of shoes, and the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 119 
 
 Officer of the Guard, who was mounted, and 
 to whom cavalry boots would be a great luxury, 
 allowed me two hundred and fifty dollars for 
 the difference. As the market value of shoes 
 in Lynchburg at that time was three hundred 
 and twenty-five dollars, this transaction showed 
 that my boots, which cost me nine dollars in 
 greenbacks, were worth five hundred and 
 seventy-five dollars in Confederate currency. 
 The prices of even the commonest articles were 
 equally magnified in that paradise of inflation. 
 Matches were seventy-five cents a paper. Bis 
 cuits were three for one dollar. Pies were two 
 dollars apiece. Onions were three for one 
 dollar. Tomatoes were ten dollars a dozen. 
 Milk was two dollars a quart. Writing-paper 
 was fifty cents a sheet. I was told that board 
 in Lynchburg was thirty dollars a day. So 
 it was essential to use great economy with my 
 two hundred and fifty dollars to make them 
 provide white bread for any length of time for 
 my sick messmate. Our regular daily ration 
 was one corn-cake baked as hard as a stone 
 and weighing about half a pound. With this 
 was frequently served one-third of a pound of 
 pork, which I could never eat, as it was always 
 rusty and usually rotten. 
 
 We had been in this prison six weary days 
 when Sunday brought round its usual reminder 
 
120 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 of rest, and home, and church bells, and happy 
 gatherings about public altars and domestic 
 hearths. But this only made their own present 
 misery the more intolerable to many, though 
 in my own little mess of three it brightened our 
 hopes to think of loved ones at home who would 
 not forget us, and to picture to ourselves their 
 gathering to worship a God of truth who would 
 see that our cause should triumph; and we 
 sung happily together the songs of church and 
 home. It was not long, however, before a 
 delegation from the several floors of the prison 
 came and asked me if I would not hold a service 
 on the middle floor so that all might join. Of 
 course, I could not refuse, though I doubted if 
 I would be permitted to speak thus openly my 
 convictions. 
 
 At three o clock we began the service, and I 
 repeated the touching lament of the Hebrew 
 captives, "By the rivers of Babylon, there we 
 sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered 
 Zion," and after speaking of the comfort of 
 the faith that our God is to be worshipped in 
 every place, in captivity as well as when we 
 breathed the free air of home, I dwelt on the 
 beauty of the Hebrew s devotion, "If I forget 
 thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget 
 her cunning," and emphasized the duty of re 
 membering still our country s cause and serving 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 1 21 
 
 it by patient endurance of our sufferings as 
 "they sometimes serve who only stand and 
 wait." Then I closed with the expression of 
 my deep conviction that the cause of the Union 
 must triumph. We then all joined in singing 
 "America." The only hymn-book that I could 
 get had the usual words, except that the line 
 "Land of the Pilgrims pride" read "Land of 
 the Southron s pride." But we sang it in the 
 old way, only with a new kindling of devotion. 
 I trembled a little, after the service, to find 
 that the Officer of the Guard and a number of 
 his Rebel friends had been listening to all I 
 had said; and I was not, therefore, greatly sur 
 prised, after I had lain down to sleep that night, 
 to be summoned by the Provost Marshal of the 
 city and to be sent to the guard-house. This 
 was the attic of a small building, up two flights 
 of very narrow stairs that at the bottom opened 
 into a small yard shut in by a very high fence. 
 At the top of the stairs stood an armed guard 
 at the door of the room in which I was confined 
 with fifty others who for various reasons had 
 incurred the Confederate displeasure. The 
 room was very low, and its superficial area was 
 about twelve feet by thirty. At one end there 
 were two small openings where had been glass, 
 now fortunately broken. Scarcely enough air 
 filtered through to keep us alive, and what did 
 
122 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 get in was poisoned for us by a tub of filth at 
 the other end of the room. We begged to be 
 allowed to remove this nuisance, but the guard 
 was under orders not to permit it nor to let any 
 one leave the room. Of course we could not 
 sleep the air was too noisome and stifling. 
 The next morning to add to our misery be 
 sides heaping upon us the grossest insult forty 
 tattered and dirty deserters from the Rebel 
 army and a score of felons condemned and 
 awaiting sentence were crowded in with us, 
 and their horrid oaths and vile songs added a 
 fiendish element to our tortures. Full daylight 
 did not perceptibly relieve the gloom of our 
 dungeon; only enough rays crept in to make 
 the darkness visible; but the Southern sun 
 shot its heat rays freely through the roof, and 
 made the steaming air more noxious and repul 
 sive. A few pieces of sour bread and rotten pork 
 were passed in on a tray, but we could not 
 eat. Headache and lassitude and the prisoners 
 scourge diarrhoea so reduced our vitality 
 that all appetite was gone, and the stomach 
 revolted from food. The second night with 
 the added number of prisoners there was 
 not room for all of us to stretch upon the floor 
 to sleep, and I spent all night sitting with my 
 back to the wall and hugging my knees. A 
 second dreadful day a little relieved by being 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 123 
 
 allowed to abate the nuisance in our room 
 and to go in turn for a few minutes into 
 the open yard below and then a third awful 
 night with no relief even of sleep, and the 
 cheerful summons came to start for Georgia. 
 Anything was better than that living death, 
 under whose tortures flesh and heart must 
 soon have failed. I do not believe we could 
 have lived there a week. So we cheerfully 
 took up our journey, although it was to be 
 "away down South in Dixie," and farther 
 removed from home and from the probability 
 of Joeing released. 
 
 We were packed in box cars, fifty or more in 
 each, and each man was given a ration of three 
 pieces of hard bread which had to last us till 
 we reached Danville at three o clock the next 
 morning. In the car in which I was placed, 
 we were so crowded that we could not all lie 
 down at once, and it was arranged that we 
 should take turns at stretching out on the floor; 
 but when it came my turn to lie down, I 
 had not the heart to awaken my messmates, 
 and I stood all night clinging to the iron rod 
 that served as a brace at the end of the car. 
 But this sleepless vigil was ten times more 
 endurable than the guard-house in Lynchburg, 
 whose horrors have never been exceeded save 
 by those in the Black Hole of Calcutta, and 
 
124 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 they were endured by the British garrison only 
 for a single night. 
 
 In Danville, the abundance of cow-beans 
 fed to us in a half-cooked soup was even more 
 to be dreaded than the starvation rations of 
 corn-meal that had hitherto been doled out 
 to us. The soup, being palatable, checked the 
 pangs of hunger, but the beans in it, being 
 tough and indigestible, made us all sick, and 
 only aggravated our misery. It was in Dan 
 ville that I witnessed for the first time the reck 
 less shooting of prisoners in their confinement. 
 We were penned up in a large tobacco ware 
 house, and one of our men, happening to look 
 out of a second-story window, received a shot 
 in the head from the guard below. In this 
 case there was no possible excuse in an at 
 tempted escape, as was urged when afterwards 
 shooting became common along the dead-lines 
 of the Georgia prison-pens. Here it was simple 
 recklessness on the part of the Confederates 
 as to the lives of their prisoners. 
 
 We were in Danville less than twenty-four 
 hours, and were awakened at two o clock 
 Sunday morning and packed into filthy cattle- 
 cars as before and transported across the 
 State of North Carolina by way of Greensboro, 
 Lexington, and Salisbury. In this trip there 
 were only thirty-one in our car, and by spooning 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 125 
 
 we could all lie down, though to turn over 
 necessitated a concerted movement. I could 
 not sleep, as I was near the side door of the 
 car, which was partly opened and admitted 
 a great draft and with it great quantities 
 of cinders from the wood-burning locomotive, 
 and I several times found my clothing on 
 fire. As that clothing was scanty at the 
 best, it was rather essential to keep awake to 
 protect it. 
 
 We reached Charlotte two hours after mid 
 night, when we were turned out into an open 
 field, where, huddled together like sheep, it 
 required but three or four sentinels to guard 
 us while we slept on the ground till morning. 
 Then we each received five hardbreads and one- 
 third of a pound of pork for two days rations, 
 and were packed into the cars again and given 
 a free ride through South Carolina. It did 
 not help to appease our hunger to have the 
 beauty and chivalry of the State appear as 
 they did at every prominent station, with 
 elegant and abundant refreshment for the 
 guards of our train, but not one morsel for the 
 starving prisoners. Yes! one morsel did get 
 into the mouth of one of our men who, more 
 desperate than the rest, snatched it from the 
 bountiful supply that was being passed to our 
 guard, but the rest of us had too much self" 
 
126 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 respect to resort to robbery, even though we 
 felt that our rations were unreasonably slender. 
 Our oppressors had not the justification of 
 poverty, in their supplies of corn at least, 
 for as we travelled through their country we 
 could see that the fields, which before the war 
 had yielded their rich tribute to King Cotton, 
 now waved with abundant corn. But they 
 were planted for other mouths than ours, 
 and their tasselled tops only waved in mockery 
 as we passed. 
 
 After stopping a few hours at Columbia, we 
 started again, and travelled a day and a night 
 till by way of Orangeburg we reached Augusta, 
 where we encamped in an open field for ten 
 hours. Here some of us clubbed together and 
 invested in a watermelon, but we were so weak 
 and exhausted that it made us all sick. 
 
 Then another day and night in box cars, 
 tightly shut on one side, and the guard stand 
 ing in the crack of the door on the other side, 
 so that the air was stifling and the heat very 
 oppressive, and we arrived at Macon. It had 
 taken us six weary days and nights from Lynch- 
 burg over very rough roads that compelled a 
 very slow and jerky motion of the trains and 
 caused great discomfort to us their live freight. 
 Sleep under such circumstances was always 
 difficult, and never unbroken for any length 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 127 
 
 of time. A few, driven to desperation, escaped 
 from the train, but most of us thought it wiser 
 to endure our confinement than to take the risk 
 of hundreds of miles of walking through the 
 enemy s country beset with watchful sentries 
 and savage bloodhounds. 
 
 At Macon all officers were taken from the 
 train, while the privates were carried on farther, 
 about sixty miles, to Andersonville. Hence 
 forth I lost sight and trace of them, and I have 
 never learned whether any of those from my 
 regiment survived the hardships of that fright 
 ful prison. Our own fate was only a shade more 
 endurable. At Macon we were herded in a 
 large pen, Camp Oglethorpe, with about six 
 teen hundred other officers, surrounded by a 
 strong stockade fifteen feet high. This en 
 closed space was about sufficient to give each 
 prisoner room enough for a grave. Indeed it 
 looked much like a cemetery; for, in order to 
 escape from the terribly intense heat of the 
 midsummer sun, many had dug narrow trenches 
 in which to lie down and so get a little shade. 
 On the outside of our prison-stockade, and sup 
 ported by brackets, was a shelf upon which the 
 armed sentinels paced back and forth, their 
 heads and shoulders just visible to us. Around 
 the inside of the enclosure and about five 
 yards from the stockade, was a rude railing 
 
128 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 which constituted the dead-line, beyond which 
 the prisoners were forbidden to pass, on 
 penalty of death. The only water for wash 
 ing and drinking was furnished by a small 
 and rather stagnant brook running through 
 the enclosure. Of course, it received all the 
 drainage from the prison-pen, and generally it 
 was so sluggish that any washing in it seemed 
 to vitiate the water up as well as down stream. 
 It was never fit to drink, but I always got the 
 supply for our mess in the very early morn 
 ing before it had been disturbed, and when it 
 was less offensive than later in the day. Our 
 rations here were nominally issued every three 
 days, and consisted of three pints of corn meal 
 ("cob meal," the prisoners called it), one-half a 
 pound of pork, one gill of beans, with a little 
 vinegar and salt. But there were very vexa 
 tious delays in giving out the rations, so that 
 out of this very scanty supply we lost two days 
 rations in every ten. Even this faint remnant 
 of nutrition must be still farther reduced by 
 extracting from each pint of corn meal the cob 
 that was ground with it. At least this was 
 our explanation of its coarseness; for when we 
 sifted it for cooking, the quantity was reduced 
 a full third. So far as the ration of pork was 
 concerned, I never could eat it, but found it 
 useful in greasing the pan in which I cooked 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 129 
 
 the corn cake. Our mess-pan which was more 
 precious to us than gold, and which I carried 
 with me nine hundred miles through the Con 
 federacy was the iron part of a broken shovel 
 which I had picked up in Virginia. It was very 
 convenient to hold over the fire while the cake 
 was baking. I will confess here for the en 
 couragement of young housekeepers that with 
 all the care I could give I burned several cakes, 
 but I trust they will not have to suffer for it 
 as I did and go hungry until the next rations 
 were issued. 
 
 Even though we were now in the heart of 
 Georgia, we were not considered secure from 
 Sherman s cavalry raiders. For they were 
 only eighty miles away at Atlanta, and one 
 day we heard the carbines of his cavalry com 
 ing to attempt our release. They were driven 
 back, however, and their commander, General 
 Stoneman, and a number of his officers were 
 captured and sent to our prison. Imagine the 
 keenness of our anxious expectation as we 
 heard the shots of our would-be deliverers, and 
 think of the sinking of our hearts when their 
 efforts were frustrated by defeat. 
 
 These fresh prisoners smuggled in a little 
 coffee concealed in their clothing. Our mess 
 secured a teaspoonful, and though it was a 
 small quantity to be divided among three, yet 
 
130 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 in the depressed state of our vitality it was 
 like a rich cordial, and sent a delightful exhila 
 ration through our frames. But it was only 
 temporary, and resembled more the hectic flush 
 of consumption; for it was followed by a fear 
 ful depression, which seemed as if it must 
 shortly end in death. 
 
 It was at this time that the Inspector General 
 of Confederate Prisons reported officially from 
 Georgia to Jefferson Davis in these words: 
 "My duty requires me respectfully to recom 
 mend that you put in command here some one 
 who has some feeling of humanity and con 
 sideration for the comfort of the prisoners, 
 some one at least who will not advocate de 
 liberately and in cold blood as the Com 
 mandant General Winder has done the pro 
 priety of leaving them in their present condition 
 until their number has been sufficiently re 
 duced by death to make their present accom 
 modations ample, and who will not consider it 
 a matter of self-laudation and boasting that 
 he has never been inside the stockade a place 
 the horrors of which it is difficult to describe, 
 and which is a disgrace to civilization." This 
 was said, by Col. T. D. Chandler, particularly 
 of Andersonville, but every word of it was true 
 of Macon, and there could be no more damning 
 record than this which has been written by a 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 131 
 
 friend and high officer of the Confederate 
 government. 
 
 And yet this appeal of the Inspector General 
 was utterly disregarded, and these cruelties, 
 unabated, made the darkest blot on the escutch 
 eon of Southern chivalry. President Lin 
 coln could hardly persuade himself that the 
 facts were as reported, and said with unutter 
 able sadness: "Let us not believe them till we 
 must. Let us hope, at Jeast, that the crime of 
 murdering prisoners by exposure and starva 
 tion may not be fastened on any of our people." 
 Such crimes could only be possible to men de 
 based by long years of familiarity with the 
 cruelties of human slavery, and though we ntust 
 forgive and should look in pity more than 
 anger on those who were dehumanized by the 
 institution under which they were nourished, 
 we cannot forget the fearful price paid for its 
 extinction not only in blood on the fields of 
 battle but in exposure and starvation within 
 the prison-pens of the South. Heaven save us 
 from harboring again in our social or political 
 system any such cruel injustice. 
 
 We remained in the prison at Macon two 
 weeks, exposed each day to the festering rays 
 of the Southern sun, with no variation in the 
 monotony of suffering, except that we were 
 several times hastily loaded upon the cars in 
 
132 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 anticipation of our attempted release by Sher 
 man. But each time we were sadly and sul 
 lenly driven back to our pen. In this exhaust 
 ing life men soon became living skeletons, and 
 the monotony of frequent death was never re 
 lieved. What wounds and exposure and sickness 
 did not do, starvation accomplished, and the line 
 of stretcher-bearers to the grave never ceased 
 to pass the gates. 
 
 At last the order came to leave this grave 
 yard of loyal legions a place which might fitly 
 be called "the devil s acre" and to get upon 
 the cars again and be transported to Charles 
 ton to be put under the fire of the Union guns. 
 This was a last desperate move planned and 
 executed by Maj. Gen. Samuel Jones, then in 
 command at Charleston. He notified the Union 
 Commander, Major General Foster, saying, " I 
 have confined six hundred of your officers in a 
 part of the city which has been for many 
 months exposed day and night to the fire of 
 your guns." Of course the object was to com 
 pel our government to exchange prisoners with 
 the Confederates, a thing which Secretary 
 Stanton was constantly urging President Lin 
 coln not to do, on the plea of military necessity, 
 as it would be exchanging well-fed Confederate 
 prisoners for ill-fed Union prisoners, and would 
 be immediately reinforcing the Rebel armies, 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 133 
 
 while it would be two months at least before 
 any Union prisoner would be strong enough to 
 rejoin his command, and it was doubtful if 
 half of those released would ever be able to fight 
 again. Lincoln frequently followed his heart s 
 impulses, and asked the Commissioners of Ex 
 change to get particular persons released; but 
 Stanton was inflexible in his adherence to his 
 principle that in dealing with this question, 
 something should not be given for nothing, that 
 a hundred thousand soldiers ready for battle 
 against the Union should not be given for a 
 hundred thousand debilitated Union men ready 
 only for the hospital or the grave. 
 
 Our part in this arrangement was not the 
 pleasantest. Yet when I knew that we were 
 leaving Macon to be made to endure the last 
 touch of cruelty by a more dangerous exposure 
 to death, I was really glad of the change; for 
 I felt that I could keep up a livelier courage if 
 I were within hearing of the guns that were 
 hammering away at the gates of the Confeder 
 acy. And it was so. When after two days 
 and nights in the cars, packed so closely that 
 we could not lie down to sleep, we came within 
 sound of the Swamp Angel, and heard its de 
 fiant thundering at the bulwarks of oppression, 
 we felt a thrill of satisfaction; for it spoke 
 most convincingly of the steadfast determina- 
 
134 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 tion of the Union forces to batter down all the 
 defences of disloyalty. This gun was called 
 the "Swamp Angel" because its foundation 
 was built in a swamp by first driving long 
 stout piles into the mud and then laying above 
 them a great mound of sand-bags. It was a 
 2OO-pound Parrott and could throw its great 
 shells into the city of Charleston, four or five 
 miles away. 
 
 In Charleston we were confined in a large 
 brick penitentiary, called a "workhouse." We 
 were first registered and then searched. On 
 being asked how much money I had, I named 
 a sum just within the permitted limit, though I 
 had, concealed about my person, quite a little 
 more. I considered it absolutely essential 
 to the life of my sick messmate that we should 
 have money enough to buy wheat bread for 
 him in place of the corn bread which was issued 
 to us. I felt justified in deceiving those who 
 were treating us so inhumanly. I told the 
 truth, but not the whole truth. I believe it 
 was the nearest I ever came to telling a lie, and 
 if Heaven is not willing to forgive it, I am willing 
 to suffer the consequences. 
 
 In our prison there were about three hundred 
 officers, of all grades from major generals down 
 to lieutenants, scattered through the cells and 
 corridors. There were four stories to the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 135 
 
 building, and as an awful reminder of our dan 
 gerous exposure there was a gaping chasm down 
 through the roof and every floor, marking the 
 track along which a shot from one of our 
 batteries had forced its way to the cellar. 
 The Swamp Angel battery was full five miles 
 away, and yet every fifteen minutes of my three 
 weeks stay in this prison, a 2OO-pound shell 
 from its belching jaws burst over our heads. 
 About every fourth shell was loaded with 
 Greek fire, and at night by its lighted fuse we 
 could see it rise like a star from the horizon 
 and ascend almost to mid-heaven, then grace 
 fully curve downwards and burst and drop its 
 liquid flame upon the roofs of the city. Then 
 in a few moments we would hear the bells of 
 the fire-alarm, and we could often see the negro 
 fire-brigade rush past our bars to try to stay 
 the conflagration that almost inevitably en 
 sued. The fate that awaited us if our prison 
 caught fire was too horrible to imagine, and yet 
 the danger was constantly before our eyes. 
 At first the mere sound of the bursting shells 
 Gilmore s reports, as they were called made 
 us give a startled jump; but soon we got used 
 to it, and their terrific explosion passed almost 
 unnoticed in the daytime, and at night scarcely 
 disturbed our dreams. Indeed I became so 
 wonted to this fierce marking of the quarter- 
 
136 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 hours, that one night when the explosion was, 
 for once only, intermitted, I was wakened by 
 the unexpected silence, showing that we keep 
 a kind of semi-consciousness even in sleep, and 
 illustrating how we can rest amid the most 
 disturbing sounds if they are expected. In 
 the evening twilights we watched the bom 
 barding with almost the heedlessness of danger 
 that one would look upon an exhibition of 
 fireworks, and when we gave ourselves to sleep 
 it was with a serene satisfaction in Uncle Sam s 
 sleepless activity, 
 
 "For the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air, 
 Gave proof through the night that our flag was still 
 there." 
 
 About this time General Foster, who had 
 command of the Federal forces about Charles 
 ton, sent the following communication to the 
 Rebel authorities: "I must protest against 
 your placing defenceless prisoners of war in a 
 position exposed to constant bombardment. 
 It is an indefensible act of cruelty. The city 
 of Charleston is a depot for military supplies. 
 It contains not only arsenals but foundries and 
 factories for the manufacture of munitions of 
 war. Its wharves and the banks of the river 
 on both sides are lined with hostile batteries. 
 In its shipyards armed ironclads have been 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 137 
 
 built and are building. To destroy these 
 means of continuing the war is our plain object 
 and duty. You seek to defeat this effort by 
 means not known to honorable warfare 
 by placing unarmed and defenceless prisoners 
 under fire. I have requested the President to 
 place in my custody an equal number of 
 prisoners of like grade, to be kept by me in 
 positions exposed to the fire of your guns 
 so long as you continue a like course." 
 
 This request of General Foster s was granted 
 and had the desired effect, but too late to save 
 me from the exposures of the bombardment. 
 
 Jefferson Davis in a published letter, under 
 date of January 27, 1876, tries to throw from 
 himself the suspicion of connivance in these 
 and like cruelties to prisoners, by rehearsing 
 his efforts to have them exchanged. Of course 
 he wanted them exchanged. It was at this 
 stage of the war that he said in a speech at 
 Macon: "We must have more men. Two- 
 thirds of our enrolled soldiers are absent and 
 most of them without leave." Davis knew very 
 well that a general exchange of prisoners would 
 double Lee s army in ten days, while it would 
 be at least sixty days before Grant s army 
 would be materially strengthened from this 
 source. Some of us also understood this, and 
 when permission came to us in Charleston to 
 
138 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 choose delegates who would be allowed to go 
 to Washington in order to urge on Lincoln the 
 exchange of prisoners that Davis wanted, al 
 though the majority favored the scheme, and 
 I was offered my freedom and asked to go as a 
 delegate, I could not conscientiously encourage 
 a plan that I felt sure would not only not suc 
 ceed, but if successful would damage perhaps 
 irreparably the Union cause. 
 
 These sentiments I expressed when, on 
 August 28th, at the request of General Stone- 
 man, the ranking officer among the prisoners, 
 I held a Sunday service in presence of all. A 
 more novel situation for a service of religion 
 can hardly be imagined. For an auditorium 
 there was the filthy, noisome, prison-yard which 
 the Confederates would not themselves, nor 
 let us, keep clean. For seats there were the 
 ground and the open windows of the prison. 
 For a roof there was only the fragment of sky 
 above our heads. For an altar I had a long 
 box standing on end, and for a platform a tub, 
 bottom upwards. To mark the time, the 
 booming of the Swamp Angel battery tolled off 
 the quarter-hours like the strokes of the clock 
 of fate. In place of organ accompaniment 
 there was the terrific bursting of the death- 
 dealing shells. For an audience I had the sick 
 and wounded prisoners, the heavy-hearted 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 139 
 
 captives, the despairing victims of a remorse 
 less cruelty. I tried to inspire a fresh confi 
 dence and hope by expressing my conviction 
 that even then and there we could serve our 
 country and our God, that though we would 
 infinitely prefer to be with our brothers at the 
 front facing the perils of the fight, Providence 
 had evidently marked out for us as our only 
 present duty to patiently endure the sufferings 
 of our imprisonment, and that each one of 
 us was thus doing more to bring the war to an 
 end than we could by adding our enfeebled 
 strength to the armies of the Union, since 
 our wasted vitality would be so much over 
 balanced by the well-fed recruits to the 
 Southern cause. 
 
 It may be said here that this question of duty 
 was not wholly a new one; two hundred and 
 forty-nine years before the Christian era, it 
 was decided in the same way by the Roman 
 Regulus, who advised against an exchange 
 because, though he himself was suffering the 
 horrors of a harsh imprisonment, he felt that 
 his country would be defrauded by the giving 
 up of the Carthaginian prisoners strong and 
 well, and receiving back its own captured 
 soldiers worn out and useless for any immediate 
 service. 
 
 It is perhaps needless to add that no delega- 
 
140 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 tion went from our prison. Yet in spite of the 
 cheering convictions that some of us cherished 
 that we were even then serving our country, 
 and that by our stripes her wounds might be 
 healed, many almost by a necessity of their 
 physical suffering lost all heart and hope. 
 Those who were not already actuated by the 
 highest motives and supported by the strong 
 est principles, withered like broken reeds. The 
 assured sympathy of their fellows and the 
 known love of dear ones at home were only an 
 added torture to them. They lost their faith 
 in the country for which before they had been 
 willing to risk their lives. They lost their 
 faith in God, and forgot his ever-present care. 
 They became sour and sad. And the sadness 
 was the more fearful as it was really the pre 
 monition of death. For in that loathsome 
 prison to give up cheerfulness was to give up 
 health, to give up hope was to give up life. 
 I have seen strong men bow themselves under 
 this dreadful shadow of hopelessness, and one 
 especially I recall a young captain from 
 Michigan whose despair made an old man of 
 him in a single week, changing his hair from 
 dark to gray, and in three weeks he was an 
 utter wreck. 
 
 ( As September approached we had at times 
 quite cold nights, and, as our slender clothing 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 141 
 
 was now getting worn and thin, we suffered 
 a good deal, and our government, mindful of 
 our needs, had a thousand changes of clothing 
 which it tried to get to us, but the prison 
 authorities would not allow us a thread of 
 warmer covering. 
 
 w Our drinking-water at Charleston was worse, 
 if possible, than at Macon. Our prison-yard 
 was very small; and well and vault were so 
 near together that the water was thoroughly 
 poisoned with filth and refuse, "making us by 
 inch-meal a disease." This trial was aggra 
 vated for us by the sight of a public pump only 
 a few rods away from our prison-gate. One 
 day I spoke through the bars to the outside 
 guard and told him that one of my messmates 
 was sick and, I feared, dying; and would he 
 be so kind as to fill for me a small pail with 
 pure water from the pump? He sullenly got 
 it for me, but demanded fifty cents. I paid it, 
 for it might save a life. 
 
 Our food in Charleston was better in quality 
 and variety than in any other prison. Our 
 rations were three pieces of hard bread a day, 
 or, in place of it, a pint of corn meal. To 
 these were sometimes added a little rice and 
 molasses. Once or twice, fresh meat was 
 issued to us, but pork was the almost invariable 
 accompaniment of our ration. How to cook 
 
142 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 the rice and meal was often a puzzle, as no 
 firewood was given to us. I supplied this lack 
 by tearing off pieces of wood from the parti 
 tions of the cells. I became quite skilful in 
 boiling rice in a tin pail which I had bought. 
 I learned to so graduate the quantities of water 
 and rice that, after twenty minutes of boiling, 
 each grain would be left soft and yet retain its 
 form and individuality, which in countries 
 where it is the staple food is the test of success 
 in cooking. In the latter part of August both 
 my messmates, Forbes and Amory, were sick, 
 and the money of our common purse was used 
 to buy for them white bread, which with flour 
 at one hundred dollars a barrel had to be used 
 sparingly. I fed them for ten days on dry 
 toast and beef-tea varied with boiled rice and 
 sometimes a little coffee and a boiled egg. 
 When my patients improved sufficiently, I 
 celebrated by giving them a surprise breakfast 
 of griddle-cakes, which I made of corn-meal, 
 rice, and flour, in equal parts, with one beaten 
 egg. I ought perhaps to call them shovel- 
 cakes from the utensil the iron part of a 
 shovel on which they were cooked. Spite 
 of the rough utensil the cakes were pronounced 
 very good. 
 
 At last the day of my deliverance was at 
 hand, and the order came that all chaplains 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 143 
 
 and surgeons should be released. It was very 
 hard for me to leave my two messmates in 
 exile especially as one of them was slowly 
 wasting away under the hardships of his prison 
 life. But I resolved to do everything in my 
 power to get him released, and, as the only 
 thing I could do for him then, I stripped myself 
 of all my underclothing and left it for him, 
 as he needed its extra warmth. I also, as a 
 parting service, boiled in a great iron kettle 
 all the clothing of my messmates in order to 
 clean it and to kill out the vermin that it was 
 our daily practice to skirmish for with thumb 
 and forefinger. I then scrubbed the pieces, 
 using a window-blind for a washboard. My 
 washing water was so brackish that it curdled 
 the soap, and I have since learned that I re 
 versed the proper order of washing-day by 
 boiling before rinsing. But I rubbed away on 
 my thirteen pieces for two hours under a boiling 
 sun, my two messmates meanwhile waiting in 
 their cell in the only garments the Confederates 
 could not steal. 
 
 As the time came to say farewell we sang 
 once more the hymn that we had sung together 
 almost every day of our imprisonment, and 
 that had done a great deal to keep up our 
 spirits, the hymn called "God of the father 
 less" to the tune "Day slowly declining" by 
 
144 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Von Weber, and then with many a warm 
 embrace, not without tears, we parted. 
 
 We were put upon a Confederate steamer, 
 and as it approached Fort Sumter we were 
 ordered to sit on the deck with our backs to the 
 bulwarks, that we might not see its battered 
 condition. But while the guard s face was 
 turned I caught with great satisfaction a 
 glimpse of its completely demolished wall on 
 the side towards our guns, and it was to me an 
 augury of our sure triumph. Only two weeks 
 before, the commander of Fort Sumter, Capt. 
 John C. Mitchell, was killed by a shell from 
 Morris Island, and now the force within the 
 fortress was commanded by Captain Huguenin, 
 only twenty-six years of age. No wonder it 
 was said of the Confederate government that 
 to support its tottering pillars it robbed the 
 cradle and the grave. 
 
 At the mouth of the harbor we were met by 
 a United States steamer and transferred to its 
 protection. How can I tell my joy when at 
 last I stood once more under the old flag? 
 How beautiful to my long-exiled vision was 
 every waving of its folds! I have seen the 
 gorgeous sunsets of the Bay of Naples, where 
 the golden haze of the atmosphere unites in 
 one indistinguishable glory the flaming mirror 
 of the sea and the flaming canopy of the clouds, 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 145 
 
 and I have felt the finer fascination of the moon 
 at midnight on the canals at Venice as they 
 mirrored its silvery splendor in the magnificent 
 framework of cathedrals and palaces, but the 
 loveliest vision upon which my eyes ever lingered 
 was the flag of my country as it gleamed at the 
 masthead of the steamer that waited in the 
 distance to receive me out of prison. Its stars 
 calmed my anxious spirit, as they told of the 
 steadfast endurance of the nation s life, and 
 every streaming fold wrapped me in its sure 
 protection. 
 
 "Its hues were all of heaven 
 
 The red of sunset s dye, 
 The whiteness of the moonlit cloud, 
 The blue of morning s sky." 
 
 Under its starry benediction it seemed as if 
 every faculty of my being was distended with 
 the fulness of delight. It was so splendid to 
 breathe again the free and unpolluted air! So 
 glorious to see the whole expanse of the heavens ! 
 So heart-quickening to feel that I was again 
 among friends! For days it all seemed like a 
 splendid dream, and every moment I felt a 
 quivering fear lest the vision should break and 
 I should awake to find myself again in Rebel 
 hands. 
 
 I made it my first duty to acquaint General 
 
146 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Saxton then in command of the besieging 
 forces with the fact that the shells from his 
 batteries were bursting directly over the prison 
 in which our men were confined, and that a 
 slight change of direction would relieve them; 
 and he at once ordered the change to be made. 
 I then sought by every possible means, and at 
 last successfully, to send money and clothing 
 back to my messmates. But I was most pleased 
 to be able to interest the Commissioner of Ex 
 change in my sick companion, Lieut. C. W. 
 Amory, and to get him released in time to save 
 his life, though with a broken constitution that 
 never was made whole (Note n>. 
 
 Then I sought for the headquarters of the 
 Provost Marshal to report to him; and as I 
 inquired the way of a negro, he seemed struck 
 with my pitiful appearance. Perhaps he saw 
 by my sallow complexion and sunken cheeks 
 that I was just from prison. At least he was 
 led in some way to suspect that I had seen better 
 days, and he said, "Massa! you wants better 
 hat. Dat hat good enub for nigger" and 
 with that he took off his own and insisted upon 
 swapping, as my Rebel captor had before, only 
 the cavalier urged his suit with a loaded pistol, 
 the negro with a full heart. The former I 
 would not refuse for the sake of my life, the 
 latter I could not for the sake of humanity; 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 147 
 
 and I have kept the hat these fifty-three years 
 as a memento of those deep chords of sympathy 
 that, beneath all disguises of ignorance, misery, 
 and degradation, thrill to the touch of human 
 need. 
 
 I soon found the Provost Marshal and tried 
 to get my back pay. But he required some 
 proof of my identity, and I knew no one at 
 Hilton Head. So I took the boat for Morris 
 Island, where was stationed the Fifty-fifth 
 Massachusetts Infantry, many of whose officers 
 (among them Col. A. S. Hartwell, H. C. 1858; 
 Lieut. Col. C. B. Fox; and Capt. C. S. Soule, 
 H. C. 1862) were my personal friends. On the 
 boat were many Sanitary Commission supplies 
 and I recall the eagerness with which I dipped 
 into a bottle of delicious lemon jelly; but, like 
 all other things that I ate in my then weakened 
 condition, it palled upon my stomach. I did 
 not, however, lose the sense of delightful satis 
 faction in tasting of something that was pro 
 vided, not, as for two months past, by the 
 grudging hands of the enemies of the Union, 
 but by the loving devotion of friends at home. 
 At Morris Island I got a full outfit of govern 
 ment clothing, and after a bath in the ocean 
 made a glad offering to Neptune of my prison 
 garb. As soon as I got my pay I took a 
 steamer for New York, and reached my home 
 
148 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 in Dorchester, September 1 7th. There and in 
 the delightful companionship and refreshment 
 of the island of Naushon, with Mr. and Mrs. 
 John M. Forbes, I spent nearly four weeks try 
 ing to recuperate my strength sufficiently to 
 return to the seat of war, which I did October 
 1 3th, but I never recovered the vigor which was 
 so severely drained by the exposures and starva 
 tion of Southern prisons. I was more fortunate, 
 however, than most in that it was possible for 
 me to return to the front and take an active 
 part in the closing scenes of the war; and to 
 these scenes we will now direct our attention. 
 
 The Campaign of the Shenandoah Valley 
 may be dated from the 7th of July, when 
 General Early made his appearance at Freder 
 ick, threatening at the same time both Balti 
 more and Washington. On the 8th he advanced 
 towards Washington. Gen. Lew Wallace, 
 then in command at Baltimore, hurried for 
 ward with a small extemporized force of raw 
 troops, and, though sure of defeat, he with the 
 help of Rickett s division of the Sixth Corps 
 blocked Early s path for a few hours at the 
 Monocacy and so accomplished more than is 
 sometimes gained by a victory. Early pushed 
 on as far as Fort Stevens, one of the outermost 
 defences of the Federal Capital. He might then 
 have dashed into the city and have gained the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 149 
 
 empty glory of holding it a few hours. But 
 he delayed, and made a reconnoissance with a 
 view to attacking on the next morning; but 
 that very afternoon thanks to the energy of 
 John Garrett, president of the Baltimore & 
 Ohio Railroad the rest of the Sixth Corps 
 under General Wright, who had by the fore 
 sight of General Grant been detached for this 
 purpose from the Army of the Potomac, arrived, 
 and was soon followed by the Nineteenth 
 Corps under General Emory, and when Gen 
 eral Early, on the morning of July I2th, found 
 the defences of the city well manned, his eager 
 ness to attack was at once changed into anxiety 
 for his own safety, and he began to retire 
 towards the Potomac. As it happened, the 
 Second Massachusetts Cavalry Regiment was 
 then the only one available for pursuit, and it 
 started immediately to harass the Rebel re 
 treat. Our advance battalion led by Colonel 
 Crowninshield came upon Early s extreme rear 
 guard composed of Jackson s cavalry brigade 
 just beyond Rockville, and charged upon 
 them gallantly. The Rebel Gen. B. T. Johnson 
 says, "The Second Massachusetts Cavalry 
 hung upon our rear and made it very uncom 
 fortable for us generally." The discrepancy of 
 numbers suggests the likeness of a small fly 
 hanging upon the flanks of a large horse, but 
 
150 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 even thus a good deal of annoyance can be 
 given. The Rebels were soon provoked to turn, 
 resolved to wipe out our regiment. They drew 
 up two of their best brigades one of them 
 known as the Maryland Line and made a 
 heavy counter-charge, overpowering our ad 
 vance squadron, and hurling it back upon the 
 rest of the regiment just as it was being led by 
 Colonel Lowell through the centre of the town. 
 There was not time for the Colonel even to turn 
 his column, and it was overwhelmed by the 
 numbers and fury of the onset, and forced back 
 in confusion towards Washington. But Colonel 
 Lowell was not the man thus to give up the 
 day. At the very first favorable position, with 
 a splendid audacity, and a voice sure to be 
 obeyed, he shouted the order "Halt! Dis 
 mount!" The men in a moment sprang from 
 their saddles, in another moment they were in 
 line, and in the next moment poured such a hot 
 volley into the pursuing column that it recoiled 
 in confusion. Then with his small force just 
 before routed and in full retreat he held the 
 ground against four impetuous charges till the 
 enemy were forced to retire without dislodging 
 him from his position. This was a marked 
 instance of his genius for command. Other 
 leaders might give the proper orders, but not 
 one in a thousand could thus make them in- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 151 
 
 stantly obeyed. Colonel Lowell s control over 
 his men on this occasion has not inaptly been 
 compared to Sheridan s more famous rally of his 
 broken columns at the battle of Cedar Creek. 
 
 General Early now hurriedly crossed the 
 Potomac at Edwards Ferry, taking with him 
 an immense train of horses, cattle, hogs, and 
 sheep, and wagons loaded with grain, groceries, 
 and clothing, and, besides, several hundred 
 thousand dollars which he had levied upon the 
 citizens of Hagarstown and Frederick. But 
 although he had made such desperate efforts, 
 marching his men four hundred and ninety-seven 
 miles in twenty-five days, he had utterly failed 
 in the main object of his expedition, which was 
 to so threaten Washington that Grant would 
 be compelled to relax his hold on Petersburg. 
 The same tactics had succeeded several times 
 before when other generals were in command 
 of the Union forces, but Grant had that dogged 
 persistency that he could not be shaken from 
 the grip he had taken in the throat of the Con 
 federacy; he simply detached one corps that 
 he could afford to spare, and so kept Lee in his 
 intrenchments. 
 
 Shortly after this abortive attempt to frighten 
 Grant, Early made another on July 25th, and 
 this time penetrated into Pennsylvania as far 
 as Chambersburg, and laid the town in ashes. 
 
152 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 This sent great consternation through the 
 North, and determined Grant to clear the 
 Shenandoah Valley. This beautiful valley was 
 an immense granary for feeding the armies 
 about Richmond, and its high bastions of hills 
 on either side furnished an easy and safe path 
 for an invading army to penetrate into Penn 
 sylvania or Maryland or to threaten Washing 
 ton. Twice before, Lee had thus used it, 
 in the Maryland invasion of 1862 which ended 
 in the Battle of Antietam, and in the Pennsyl 
 vania invasion of 1863 which ended in the 
 Battle of Gettysburg. At all times it had been 
 necessary to employ a considerable army to 
 guard the Valley and its passes, and now 
 Grant determined to clear it out and lay it 
 waste, that it might no longer distract his 
 attention from the main army of Virginia in 
 its intrenchments before Petersburg. To this 
 end he consolidated the four geographical dis 
 tricts West Virginia, Washington, the Susque- 
 hanna, and the Middle Department into one, 
 styled the Middle Military Division, and put it 
 under the command of Maj. Gen. Philip H. 
 Sheridan on the yth of August, 1864. Both 
 Lincoln and Stanton thought him too young 
 for such a responsibility, as he was then only 
 thirty-three; but Grant saw in him just the 
 leader he wanted, and General Hunter, with 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 153 
 
 pure and patriotic disinterestedness, withdrew 
 from the chief command of the department in 
 order to give Sheridan free play. Taking only 
 three days to get his troops in hand, Sheridan 
 began on the loth of August to move up the 
 Valley, Colonel Lowell s provisional brigade 
 leading the advance. This brigade had been 
 hastily made up of the Second Massachusetts 
 Cavalry and detached portions of nearly every 
 other cavalry regiment in the service swept 
 together from the dismounted camps near 
 Washington. And yet in less than two weeks 
 Colonel Lowell moulded this heterogeneous 
 mass into a well-disciplined troop and held it 
 in the position of greatest peril, opening the 
 way for Sheridan s advance. Lowell s brigade 
 was under fire every day for the next month, 
 on the nth of August driving the enemy 
 pell-mell through Winchester and along the 
 Valley pike southward as far as Fisher s Hill, 
 and on the i6th guarding Sheridan s rear as 
 he retired down the Valley again to Halltown 
 and Harpers Ferry. This retrograde move 
 ment was determined upon by Sheridan when 
 he learned by his scouts that Lee had detached 
 from his army about Richmond two divisions 
 of infantry under General Anderson, two bri- 
 grades of cavalry under Fitzhugh Lee, and 
 twenty pieces of artillery, and that they were 
 
154 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 hurrying to Early s assistance by the way of 
 Front Royal. Sheridan sent Merritt s division 
 to watch their movements, and it was attacked 
 by Kershaw s division of infantry and Fitz- 
 hugh Lee s division of cavalry, but it hand 
 somely repelled the attack, Devin s brigade 
 taking the honors two battle-flags and three 
 hundred prisoners. Devin won his star in 
 this fight. 
 
 On the 26th of August, Lowell led his two 
 regiments of troopers in an attack on the 
 advance line of the enemy s infantry and 
 charged up to a rail fence behind which they 
 were intrenched, and while he and a few of his 
 men held them there he himself actually 
 whacking their levelled muskets with his sabre 
 the rest tore down the barrier, and then they 
 all charged again, and captured one colonel, 
 three captains, five lieutenants, and seventy- 
 four men. Such a noble scorn of danger and 
 death inspired our men with a perfect obedience, 
 and a courage that quailed at nothing. Lowell s 
 daring and skill in this attack made a deep 
 impression on Sheridan, and as an expression 
 of his confidence he took the brigade of Regular 
 Cavalry First, Second, Fifth, and Sixth 
 and Artillery that had been raised for General 
 Buford, and which was called the finest in 
 the service, and put with it the Second Massa- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 155 
 
 chusetts Cavalry Volunteers, and, designating 
 them all as the Reserve Brigade, gave the com 
 mand of it to Colonel Lowell. While the main 
 army remained near Harpers Ferry several 
 weeks with no important movement, the 
 cavalry was employed every day in harassing 
 the enemy, its opponents being principally 
 infantry. Sheridan wanted to "educate them" 
 as he said "to attack infantry lines." 
 
 On the i6th of September, Grant visited 
 General Sheridan at Charlestown and brought 
 with him a plan for a campaign against Early. 
 But he found Sheridan so much master of the 
 situation, and so confident of what he could do 
 if he only had the authority, that without even 
 taking the plan out of his pocket he said 
 simply, "Go in." And Sheridan did go in, 
 and only three days after initiated the famous 
 Battle of Winchester by moving against Early, 
 who was posted with about 26,000 infantry and 
 4,000 cavalry on the opposite side of the 
 Opequan. Sheridan had learned through a 
 loyal lady in Winchester that Lee had recalled 
 Anderson with Kershaw s division of infantry 
 and twelve pieces of artillery; and besides he 
 learned through his own scouts that Early had 
 just then divided his forces to try again one of 
 those raids on the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad 
 which had so often created a panic in Washing- 
 
156 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 ton and among the Union generals. But 
 Sheridan was made of other stuff, and saw 
 his opportunity, and at once determined on 
 assault. 
 
 On the morning of September iQth the 
 movement began. The plan was for Wilson s 
 division of cavalry to force the passage of the 
 Opequan where it is crossed by the Berryville 
 pike and open the way for Sheridan with the 
 Sixth and Nineteenth Corps and General 
 Crook s command to move upon General 
 Ramseur s two divisions that had been left 
 to guard that crossing while Early with three 
 divisions under Gordon, Rodes, and Brecken- 
 ridge were off on a raid into Maryland. But 
 Early on reaching Martinsburg had learned 
 on the morning of the i8th of September of 
 Grant s visit to Sheridan, and, suspecting a 
 movement, immediately started back, and 
 by night his advance divisions under Brecken- 
 ridge and Rodes had reached Stephenson s 
 station while Gordon s division had reached 
 Bunker s hill. Fitzhugh Lee s cavalry, near 
 Breckenridge, guarded the left of Early s ex 
 tended line, and Lomax s cavalry guarded its 
 right adjoining Ramseur s infantry. Although 
 Wilson s cavalry started betimes and carried 
 the Berryville crossing at dawn, yet the gorge 
 fronting Ramseur s position was so narrow 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 157 
 
 that Sheridan found it impossible to march 
 his army through and get into position before 
 ten o clock, and by that time Early by forced 
 marches with the divisions of Gordon and 
 Rodes had come within supporting distance 
 of Ramseur s left and so made Sheridan s task 
 harder than he expected, and compelled him 
 to give up the plan which he had first enter 
 tained of putting Crook s command south of 
 Winchester to cut off Early s retreat. In 
 stead, he held it in reserve to be used at the 
 crisis of the battle. His line was formed with 
 the Sixth Corps at the left supported by Wil 
 son s cavalry, and the Nineteenth Corps hold 
 ing the centre and right. The enemy s re 
 sistance was very stubborn, and about noon, 
 in an impetuous charge upon the right of the 
 Sixth and the left of the Nineteenth Corps, 
 they pressed back our line and threatened to 
 break it, using for this purpose the divisions 
 of Gordon and Rodes, who had just arrived 
 for the succor of Ramseur. But Sheridan, 
 nothing disconcerted, holding Russell s bri 
 gade of the Sixth Corps in hand, waited till 
 the enemy s advance opened their flank to 
 attack, and then unleashed Russell s men 
 upon them, and drove them back in confusion 
 and re-formed his own line. Sheridan now 
 delayed the final blow till he should hear of 
 
158 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PJUSON 
 
 the success of Merritt on his extreme right, 
 and he did not have to wait long. Merritt 
 had started from Summit Point at three 
 o clock in the morning and with Devin s and 
 Lowell s brigades had carried Seaver s ford 
 a little before sunrise. The enemy s infantry 
 was posted on the opposite side of the Opequan 
 at that crossing, and their fire was simply 
 terrific; but Colonel Lowell, having the ad 
 vance, threw over dismounted men as skir 
 mishers, and closely supported them with the 
 Fifth United States and Second Massachu 
 setts Cavalry, and soon by a brilliant charge 
 gained the crest and captured a body of in 
 fantry. General Merritt then connected 
 Lowell s line on the right with that of General 
 Custer who had gallantly carried Locke s ford 
 three-quarters of a mile below, and on the left 
 with the line of General Devin, and the three 
 brigades now advanced together, with orders 
 to press the enemy vigorously. Soon the line 
 of Breckenridge s infantry was seen in the 
 edge of the woods, protected by rail barricades. 
 Major Smith of the Second United States 
 Cavalry says, "It seemed rash, yes! foolhardy 
 to charge a line of infantry so well posted; 
 but we did, Colonel Lowell leading the charge 
 with the Second United States Cavalry in 
 column of squadrons." Nothing could exceed 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 159 
 
 the brilliant heroism of this assault. "Can 
 non in front of them volleyed and thundered." 
 The long-range muskets of the infantry on 
 either side poured upon them showers of leaden 
 hail, which could not be returned by the 
 cavalry s short-range carbines till Lowell had 
 brought his men within a few hundred yards 
 of the barricade. Then, forming his column in 
 line, Lowell led them up to the very muzzles 
 of the enemy s guns. But no human power 
 could take such a position against such fearful 
 odds. Many fell never to rise again. But 
 the moral effect of this charge was equal to a 
 victory, as was plainly to be seen in the sub 
 sequent events of the day, and Sheridan s 
 object was gained in keeping Breckenridge, 
 whose attention was thus taken up with our 
 cavalry, from sending his corps to reinforce 
 Early near Winchester. 
 
 Merritt s cavalry now formed a junction with 
 General Averell, who had moved his division 
 of cavalry up the valley from Darksville and 
 had taken a position near Stephenson s station, 
 ready to form with Merritt a turning column 
 at the crisis of the battle. This time came 
 about four o clock when Sheridan pressed the 
 enemy in front with the Sixth and Nineteenth 
 Corps, and let loose Crook and Merritt upon 
 his left flank, routing his whole command and 
 
160 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 driving them in great confusion through Win 
 chester and for miles up the pike, and capturing 
 twenty-five hundred prisoners, five pieces of 
 artillery, and nine battle-flags. In this final 
 charge, the open country on either side of the 
 Valley pike offered an opportunity such as 
 seldom came during the war for an attack 
 with a broad front of mounted troops. The 
 Confederate line at this point constituted the 
 left flank of Early s army and was held by 
 Breckenridge s infantry and Fitzhugh Lee s 
 cavalry. General Torbert s line was all cavalry 
 and was made up of five brigades abreast, 
 Lowell s Reserve Brigade on the left, connecting 
 with Crook s infantry, then on the right in 
 succession Devin s and Custer s brigades, and 
 still to the right Averell s division. These 
 all moved by brigade front with single regi 
 ments in column of squadrons. One continu 
 ous and heavy line of skirmishers covered the 
 advance, using only the carbine, while the line 
 of brigades as they advanced across the open 
 country, the bands playing the national airs, 
 presented in the sunlight one moving mass of 
 glittering sabres intermingled here and there 
 with bright-colored banners and battle-flags. 
 It was one of the most inspiring and imposing 
 scenes of martial grandeur ever witnessed. 
 Little effective opposition to this charge was 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 161 
 
 made till near Winchester. Here the Reserve 
 Brigade was exposed, without cover, to the 
 severe fire of a well-posted line of the enemy s 
 infantry. Yet though now reduced to about 
 six hundred men it rode up fearlessly within 
 five hundred yards of the enemy, who had on 
 their left a two-gun battery resting on an old 
 earthwork. The order was given to charge the 
 line and get the guns. The brigade was in 
 column of squadrons, the Second United States 
 Cavalry in front. General Rodenbough of 
 this regiment says: "At the sound of the bugle 
 we took the trot, then the gallop, then the 
 charge. As we neared their line we were wel 
 comed by a fearful musketry fire, which threw 
 the leading squadron into temporary confusion. 
 But the instant shouts of the officers For 
 ward! Forward! brought a response of deafen 
 ing cheers, and without breaking front the 
 column leaped a blind ditch and we were face 
 to face with the enemy. They seemed to 
 stand a moment, as in awe of the heroism of 
 the brigade, and then broke at once into com 
 plete rout, our men sabring them as they vainly 
 sought safety in flight. I" continues the 
 General "I was taken prisoner just in front 
 of the second line of the enemy s works, my 
 horse being shot under me. As my captors 
 surrounded me, they cried Great God! 
 
1 62 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 what a fearful charge! what brigade was that?* 
 The confusion, disorder, and actual rout pro 
 duced by the successive charges of Merritt s 
 cavalry division would appear incredible did I 
 not actually witness them." 
 
 In this superb charge, Colonel Lowell achieved 
 new distinction. In the confusion of the on 
 set, at one time he found himself with only 
 Captain Rodenbough and four men face to 
 face with one of Breckenridge s guns whose 
 first discharge killed Billy Major Forbes 
 favorite horse, which Lowell was then riding 
 tore off the Captain s arm, and wounded two 
 of the men. Yet the Colonel would not 
 retreat, but quietly mounted the first horse 
 that came up and soon the gun was his. "A 
 little more spunk," said Lowell, not even then 
 satisfied that enough had been done, "and we 
 should have had all their colors." A member 
 of Sheridan s staff answered, "A little more 
 go, and you would have been in Richmond." 
 
 Sheridan telegraphed from the field to Wash 
 ington, "We have just sent the enemy whirling 
 through Winchester, and shall be after them 
 to-morrow." Custer says, "This was the first 
 decisive field victory won in the war, and 
 was made decisive only by the proper use of 
 cavalry." In this battle Sheridan again justi 
 fied his boast to Meade in the Wilderness that 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 163 
 
 he could accomplish something worth while if 
 Meade would let him have the cavalry in mass 
 instead of in small detachments. The news of 
 this victory in the North gave unbounded joy, 
 and it relieved Maryland and Pennsylvania 
 from any further fears of invasion. Of course 
 the cost of the victory was great, the Union 
 loss amounting to about 4,500 in killed, 
 wounded, and missing. 
 
 General Early did not pause in his flight till 
 he reached Strasburg, and took up a very strong 
 position reaching across the Valley from Fisher s 
 Hill to North Mountain. Here Sheridan as 
 saulted his front with the Sixth and Nineteenth 
 Corps, and again, as at Winchester, used 
 Crook s infantry as a turning column, and 
 sent it under cover of the woods along the 
 slopes of North Mountain upon the Rebel 
 left and rear, and so routed Early again and in 
 greater disorder than before, and his army fled, 
 leaving behind sixteen pieces of artillery and 
 several hundred prisoners. Sheridan still kept 
 up the pursuit through Woodstock, Mount 
 Jackson, Harrisonburg, and Staunton, till Early 
 took refuge in the gaps of the Blue Ridge, and 
 then, not caring to subsist his army so far from 
 its base of supplies, Sheridan slowly retired 
 down the Valley, spreading his cavalry so that 
 they swept in all useful supplies, and leaving the 
 
1 64 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 country waste. At first the Rebel cavalry 
 kept at a respectful distance; but later they 
 took courage from the arrival of General Rosser 
 with a fresh brigade from Richmond, and began 
 to annoy Sheridan s rear guard. On the third 
 day Sheridan determined to halt his army and 
 teach Rosser a lesson that would check his pre 
 sumption. So he ordered General Torbert to 
 engage the enemy next morning and added in 
 his brusque way, "Either whip him or get 
 whipped." 
 
 At daylight on the Qth, Torbert advanced 
 with Custer on the back road facing the Rebel 
 General Rosser who had been heralded as the 
 savior of the Valley and with Merritt on the 
 pike facing the Rebel Generals Lomax and 
 Johnson. Colonel Lowell and the Second Mas 
 sachusetts had the advance along the pike, and 
 as the Colonel led forward his dismounted skir 
 mish line, his men crouched behind trees, rocks, 
 and fences, or anything that promised shelter. 
 But the Colonel rode fearlessly along the line, 
 and, though he was thus a conspicuous target 
 for the enemy s musketry, he seemed not to 
 mind it, and coolly directed every movement 
 of his men. The enemy soon grew tremulous 
 at this bold advance, and Lowell, seeing it, or 
 dered the bugles to sound the charge, upon 
 which the Confederate lines broke in utter 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 165 
 
 confusion, and a hot pursuit was made for 
 twenty-six miles as far as Mount Jackson, 
 where they found protection behind Early s 
 infantry. 
 
 Custer had a like success on the back road 
 about three miles away and parallel to the pike. 
 He chased Rosser and his "Laurel Brigade" 
 as it was called beyond Columbia Furnaces. 
 The captures of the day were eleven pieces of 
 artillery and three hundred prisoners. The 
 engagement was afterwards known as the Wood 
 stock races, and in many respects was the most 
 brilliant cavalry fight of the war. All the early 
 part of it was along "Toms Brook" which gives 
 the official name to the battle, and Sheridan 
 witnessed the charges and counter-charges 
 from the summit of Round Top Mountain. 
 The honors of the day were about even between 
 Lowell and Custer, but a friend and follower 
 of Custer could not say too much in praise of 
 what he styles "the steady old Reserve Brigade 
 the regulars under Lowell." The only vol 
 unteer regiment in this brigade was the Second 
 Massachusetts, and equalled in discipline and 
 effectiveness the best of the regulars. 
 
 Sheridan now retired to Strasburg and took 
 position on the north bank of Cedar Creek. 
 He reports that in this movement from Staun- 
 ton to Strasburg, in carrying out his orders 
 
1 66 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 to destroy everything that could subsist the 
 Rebel army, he burned over two thousand 
 barns filled with wheat and hay, and over 
 seventy mills filled with flour, and drove before 
 the army more than five thousand head of 
 cattle and three thousand sheep. Such is the 
 desolation that lies in the track of war. 
 
 But spite of this desolation and his frequent 
 defeats, General Early soon returned down the 
 Valley with reinforcements of infantry and 
 cavalry, and took position behind the intrench- 
 ments at Fishers Hill. Sheridan had not be 
 lieved that Early would again take the offensive 
 in full force, and so had detached the Sixth 
 Corps and started it towards Ashby s Gap to 
 join the Army of the Potomac. But a bold 
 demonstration by Early on the I3th of October 
 against our lines led Sheridan to recall the 
 Sixth Corps, and it took position on the right 
 of the Nineteenth Corps, which was holding 
 the north bank of Cedar Creek west of the 
 Valley pike. General Crook held the position 
 east of the Valley pike as far as the junction 
 of Cedar Creek and the Shenandoah River. 
 
 At this time Sheridan was summoned by the 
 Secretary of War to Washington for a consul 
 tation, and started October i6th and proceeded 
 as far as Front Royal with the whole cavalry 
 corps, meaning to send it through Chester Gap 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 167 
 
 to Charlottesville to destroy the Virginia 
 Central Railroad, while he himself went through 
 Manassas Gap with a small escort to Washing 
 ton. But at Front Royal a courier from 
 General Wright brought the following despatch 
 which had been read by our scouts from the 
 Rebel signal flag on Three Top Mountain: 
 "To Lieutenant General Early. Be ready to 
 move as soon as my forces join you, and we 
 will crush Sheridan. Longstreet, Lieutenant 
 General." Sheridan, suspecting it was a ruse, 
 could not believe it, yet to be on the safe side 
 ordered back all the cavalry to General Wright 
 with the word to "look well to his ground 
 and be prepared." Sheridan then hastened to 
 Washington, arriving about eight o clock on 
 the morning of the lyth. Wishing to get back 
 to his army as soon as possible, he asked Secre 
 tary Stanton to have a special train ready at 
 twelve o clock to take him to Martinsburg, 
 which he reached that evening, and the next 
 morning started with his escort for Winchester, 
 twenty-eight miles away, and reached there 
 about three o clock. Hearing that all was 
 quiet at the front, he took a quiet night s sleep, 
 while Early was planning to surprise his com 
 mand and was moving his troops all night 
 from the intrenchments at Fishers Hill, going 
 himself with Kershaw s division through Stras- 
 
1 68 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 burg towards Roberts ford, sending Whar- 
 ton s division by the Valley pike to where it 
 crosses Cedar Creek, and directing General 
 Gordon to lead his division with those of 
 Ramseur and Pegram along the road leading 
 to Front Royal till it reached Bowman s ford 
 then to cross the Shenandoah and under cover 
 of the darkness strike the rear of Crook s 
 division, which formed the left of the Union 
 line. This left of the infantry, for some un 
 accountable reason, was exposed without cav 
 alry protection, although Sheridan had specially 
 directed General Wright to close in Powell s 
 division, which was then at Front Royal. Had 
 this been done the disaster of the early morning 
 would have been averted. As it was, Gordon s 
 Confederate column, covered by the fog as 
 well as the darkness, rushed in upon Crook s 
 sleeping camp, capturing eighteen pieces of 
 artillery and more than a thousand prisoners, 
 thus crushing completely the whole left of 
 our army. At the same time, with this rolling 
 up of our left flank, Early made a direct attack 
 upon our centre, where the Nineteenth Corps 
 was posted, and this also gave way in the con 
 fusion. There remained then of the infantry 
 only the Sixth Corps not yet engaged, and that, 
 as often before, stood like a tower of defence, 
 as did also the cavalry on the right. It hap- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 169 
 
 pened that morning that in prompt obedience 
 to orders of the previous evening to make a 
 reconnoissance as soon as the fog broke, 
 Colonel Lowell caused reveille to be sounded 
 at four o clock, and at 4.30, spite of the fog, 
 his brigade was in motion. Crossing the 
 creek, he found the enemy in force directly 
 in his front, and began to skirmish sharply with 
 him, and held his position till 7.30, when he 
 was relieved by infantry. His punctuality in 
 making this reconnoissance and then the 
 tenacity with which he held his position saved 
 our right from surprise and disaster possibly 
 as great as that which befell the other end of 
 the line. This stand of the cavalry and of the 
 Sixth Corps saved the army from utter rout, 
 and allowed the broken divisions of the other 
 corps to form again a few miles back in and 
 about the village of Middletown. Here again, 
 before a strong line of defense could be made, 
 Early assaulted our left and threw it again 
 into confusion, and the whole Union line fell 
 back about a mile and a half beyond Middle- 
 town to a position just secured by our cavalry, 
 which had at about nine o clock been moved, 
 with Getty s division of infantry, from the 
 right to the left of our line, and which now 
 opposed an impregnable front to the advance 
 of the enemy beyond the town. Here, too, 
 
170 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Colonel Lowell held our advance line, and 
 while the infantry were retreating in confusion, 
 dismounted his little band of cavalry and 
 pressed forward under a heavy fire to a strong 
 position behind a stone wall, and held it spite 
 of the enemy s repeated and desperate attempts 
 to dislodge him with heavy assaulting columns 
 and with artillery. Here, as usual, he at 
 tended in person to the disposition of his men, 
 riding backwards and forwards along the line 
 of skirmishers, a conspicuous mark for the 
 sharpshooters on the roofs of the village of 
 Middletown. Colonel Lowell not only held 
 this line, but led his men in several gallant 
 charges. In the third charge he had his horse 
 shot under him, which was the thirteenth 
 horse he had thus lost in this campaign of 
 three months, and here he received his first 
 wound from a spent ball; but he would not 
 leave the field, although the force of the blow 
 against his lungs caused internal hemorrhage 
 which was likely to prove fatal. Torbert s 
 cavalry line was thus held with dogged persist 
 ency, and with a gallantry that has never been 
 surpassed, till the broken ranks of the infantry 
 were re-formed several miles to the right and 
 rear. The Commanding General says in his 
 official report, "The cavalry held their ground 
 like men of steel; officers and men seemed to 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 171 
 
 know and to feel that the safety of the army 
 depended in no small degree on their holding 
 their position, and they can never receive too 
 much credit for the manner in which they did 
 their duty." General Wright had given the 
 order to retreat to Winchester, and our six 
 or seven thousand cavalry kept the roads 
 open by checking the enemy and repulsing 
 charge after charge hurled upon them by an 
 army of nearly twenty thousand infantry 
 flushed with the morning s victory. The only 
 supporting infantry on this front line with 
 Custer and Merritt was Getty s division of 
 the Sixth Corps, and it seemed, as the morning 
 wore away, as if their united gallantry could 
 not much longer stem the tide of the Rebel 
 advance which rolled in heavier and still heavier 
 waves towards our position. But just at this 
 juncture, while every prospect was so threaten 
 ing, unexpected succor was at hand, not in the 
 shape of large reinforcements, but in the form 
 of one man. 
 
 "Up from the south at break of day, 
 Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, 
 The affrighted air with a shudder bore, 
 Like a herald in haste to the Chieftain s door, 
 The terrible grumbling and rumble and roar, 
 Telling the battle was on once more 
 And Sheridan twenty miles away." 
 
172 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Sheridan, who had reached Winchester the 
 night before on his way back from Washington, 
 had slept in the Logan House, then occupied 
 by Col. Oliver Edwards, commanding the 
 brigade posted there. Before six o clock in 
 the morning, the picket-guards nearest Cedar 
 Creek had heard the guns and reported it to 
 Sheridan. He thought it was all right and 
 took it to be the sound of General Grover s 
 guns feeling the position of the enemy. A 
 little later report came that the firing was 
 continuous. Upon that he arose and ordered 
 breakfast and that the horses be saddled. 
 Still he did not even suspect any ill-fortune, 
 and started off leisurely at about nine o clock 
 for the front, mounted on Rienzi, his coal- 
 black steed. He had not gone half a mile 
 before he came to a crest just beyond Mill 
 Creek, and there broke upon his astonished 
 gaze the appalling spectacle of frightened 
 herds of runaways, and broken and demoralized 
 regiments and wagon trains, all skedaddling 
 towards Winchester. Sheridan at once sent 
 word to Colonel Edwards to stretch out his bri 
 gade across the country back of Mill Creek and 
 stop all fugitives and to park the wagon trains 
 north of Winchester. Then he detached most 
 of his staff and escort, telling them to stretch 
 out in as long a line as they could and drive 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 173 
 
 in the stragglers; and then he took Maj. 
 George A. Forsythe and Capt. Joseph O Keefe 
 of his staff and twenty men from his escort 
 and with them galloped up the pike towards 
 the front, himself shouting to the crowds he 
 met: "Face the other way, boys! Face 
 the other way! It s all right! We re going to 
 lick them out of their boots! We ll be back in 
 our camps to-night!" At times Sheridan had to 
 leave the pike, it was so blocked by retreating 
 wagons and flying troopers. But whether 
 along the pike or through the fields, his presence 
 infused new courage, and even the skedaddlers 
 began to turn about and to cheer. His black 
 steed was a magnificent animal, sixteen hands 
 high, five years old, full of fire, and seemingly 
 infused with Sheridan s spirit. Every one 
 recognized the horse and knew that he was 
 carrying his master to the front and to victory, 
 if victory were possible. Every one resolved 
 to follow such a gallant leader even to death, 
 and whereas before all were discouraged and 
 many were covered with conscious disgrace, 
 now all were jubilant with hope and intent on 
 wiping out the morning s record of demoraliza 
 tion and retreat. Pretty soon the shouts 
 of the newly inspirited stragglers reached the 
 anxious line of battle, where the heroic cavalry, 
 with General Getty s division of the Sixth 
 
174 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Corps, were making a stand against the enemy. 
 When Sheridan and his foam-flecked charger 
 wheeled from the pike and galloped down in 
 front of these serried ranks, they at once broke 
 into the most tumultuous enthusiasm. General 
 Torbert, not satisfied with the formal soldier s 
 salute, rode up exultingly and exclaimed, 
 "My God, I m glad you ve come!" Such 
 scenes as his coming produced and such emo 
 tions as it awakened are not realized once in a 
 century. There was immediately a revulsion 
 of feeling from doubt and almost despair to 
 faith and almost triumph. As Sheridan rode 
 along, whole lines of battle-flags rose up as if 
 out of the ground. "General, we re glad to see 
 you," was the welcome frequently shouted 
 to him. "Well, I m glad to be here," was 
 the cheerful response. One group of officers 
 deserted by their men had clung to their 
 regimental colors, and waved them in the air 
 to greet him. Sheridan recognized one of 
 these as Colonel Hayes, afterwards President 
 of the United States, and then as always 
 utterly faithful. For two hours, from ten 
 o clock till noon, Sheridan rode up and down 
 inspiriting the men and re-forming their broken 
 lines. He ordered General Wright to bring up 
 the Nineteenth Corps and the two divisions 
 of the Sixth Corps that had been halted in 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 175 
 
 the rear of Getty s division, and to form them 
 on Getty s right. Then he sent Major 
 Forsythe to Getty s left to inquire of Lowell if 
 he could hold on there, and Lowell gallantly 
 said he could. Sheridan then sent Custer s 
 division back to the right flank, ordered General 
 Wright to take his old command the Sixth 
 Corps, and, accepting the suggestion of Major 
 Forsythe, rode along in front of the whole of the 
 new line of battle, that his men who had only 
 heard of his return might see him and take new 
 courage. It was about noon when Sheridan 
 observed that Early was getting ready to 
 assault, and to meet it he strengthened the 
 Nineteenth Corps with Getty s division of 
 the Sixth. Early s victorious army moved 
 forward in magnificent order, utterly confident 
 that they would now wipe out the remnant of 
 Sheridan s troopers; but they did not measure 
 rightly the reinforcement that one man had 
 brought. With this fresh alliance the Nine 
 teenth Corps bravely stood its ground and 
 repelled Early s impetuous assault. Sheridan 
 now rested his men and waited till the fugitives 
 of the morning could get back to the front. 
 Meanwhile, fearing that Early might also be 
 reinforced by the expected arrival of Long- 
 street, Sheridan ordered Merritt to take a small 
 body of his cavalry on the extreme left of the 
 
176 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 line, and charge upon an exposed battery of 
 the enemy and capture some prisoners. This 
 was at once done and the prisoners assured 
 Sheridan that Longstreet had not arrived. 
 The way was now clear for Sheridan to take the 
 offensive. At about half-past three the order 
 was given for an advance along the whole line 
 of infantry, the cavalry being held back for 
 a charge after the Rebel line should be broken. 
 It happened, however, that the left of the 
 Rebel infantry line overlapped our right, so 
 that for a few moments disaster threatened 
 in the shape of this flanking column of the 
 enemy. But in this Sheridan saw his oppor 
 tunity and ordered a charge against the open 
 angle of the Rebel line. "That order," says 
 Colonel Whitaker, "was the death-knell of the 
 Confederacy." It cut off the flanking column, 
 while a general advance swept back the rest of 
 the Rebel army. 
 
 "Now in the tumult of the battle s van 
 Shone Fortune s darling, mounted Sheridan. 
 Rapid to plan and peerless in the fight, 
 He plucked Fame s chaplet as by sovereign right; 
 Emerged triumphant from a wild retreat, 
 And blazoned victory s colors on defeat." 
 
 Sheridan was everywhere. He had mounted 
 a fresh horse just before this final charge, and 
 galloped from one place to another wherever 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 177 
 
 his men needed stimulus or direction. While 
 he was watching the charge of the infantry 
 that cut off the flanking column of the enemy, 
 Custer, who was about to charge and gobble 
 them up, delayed a moment to dash up to 
 Sheridan and hug and kiss him in his rapturous 
 delight. Sheridan says, "I forgave him the 
 delay, as he at once swooped down upon the 
 enemy and took many of them prisoners." 
 The rout was utter. Not only did Sheridan 
 regain the camps from which Wright had been 
 driven in the morning, but he captured the 
 lost guns, and besides all of Early s camp 
 equipage, caissons, artillery, ambulances, and 
 thousands of prisoners, among them Major 
 General Ramseur. 
 
 Thus in thirty days, by three brilliant 
 victories, Sheridan had almost annihilated an 
 army of twenty thousand men, having captured 
 thirteen thousand prisoners, a hundred pieces 
 of artillery, and thousands of small arms. In 
 the last battle he had by his personal magnetism 
 and all-conquering energy turned back the 
 overwhelming flood of defeat and lifted the 
 whole army on a refluent wave of victory 
 that engulfed the shattered remnants of Con 
 federate resistance, and raised the trembling 
 hopes of patriots throughout the land to a 
 vantage-ground of confidence and security. 
 
178 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 "Hurrah! hurrah, for Sheridan! 
 Hurrah! hurrah, for horse and man! 
 And when their statues are placed on high 
 Under the dome of the Union sky 
 The American soldier s Temple of Fame 
 There, with the glorious General s name, 
 Be it said in letters both bold and bright, 
 Here is the steed that saved the day 
 By carrying Sheridan into the fight 
 From Winchester, twenty miles away." 
 
 This ride of twenty miles is a poetic license 
 for about twelve miles the distance between 
 Winchester and Middletown. But Rienzi car 
 ried his master more than twenty miles that 
 day in his mad galloping back and forth along 
 the line of battle and in the personal visits to 
 various sections of the command. Rienzi was 
 christened "Winchester" after this battle. 
 He carried his master through ninety engage 
 ments, but though he survived the war thirteen 
 years and reached the age of nineteen, Sheridan 
 never mounted him after the war, but com 
 mitted him to a faithful groom with direc 
 tions to surround him with all the care and 
 comfort that his faithful services deserved. 
 The noble animal died in 1878 and Sheridan 
 told me that he had ordered his skin to be 
 stuffed for preservation. 
 
 Of course this victory of Cedar Creek and 
 Sheridan s wonderful personal achievement of 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 179 
 
 re-creating an army out of a broken, dispirited 
 mob of flying fugitives electrified the whole 
 country. General Grant ordered a salute of 
 one hundred guns, President Lincoln wrote to 
 Sheridan a letter of thanks, and in a few days 
 he was promoted to the major generalship 
 made vacant by General McClellan s resigna 
 tion. This victory closed the campaign of the 
 Shenandoah. 
 
 Let us now turn aside for a few moments to 
 meditate upon something of the price that must 
 be paid for such a victory, and to speak of one 
 only among the many who gladly gave their 
 lives that we might enjoy ours in peace; one, 
 however, whom none could surpass in the 
 preciousness of the voluntary offering or the 
 completeness of the heroic sacrifice. 
 
 I have already told how my gallant Colonel, 
 in this month s campaign in which he was 
 every day under fire, seemed to bear a charmed 
 life, having had thirteen horses shot under him 
 one of them struck in seven places and his 
 clothes riddled with bullets. He had not 
 himself been touched till the third charge in 
 the Battle of Cedar Creek, when a spent ball 
 for a moment took away his breath and after 
 wards left him voiceless. General Torbert 
 urged that he be taken from the field. But 
 Lowell whispered: "No! It is only my poor 
 
l8o FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 lung. I have not lost a drop of blood yet. 
 I want to lead in the final charge. " So a little 
 parapet of earth was thrown up to shield him 
 from the bullets of the enemy, and he lay there 
 motionless for two hours, having exacted a 
 promise that he should be told when the charge 
 was ordered. This came about three o clock. 
 Then, though too weak to mount his horse 
 without assistance, he said, "I am well, now/ 
 and allowed his faithful men to lift him into 
 the saddle, and he rode to the front amid the 
 cheers of his troops. Then his strength rose 
 with the occasion, and though the death flush 
 was on his cheeks he rode firm and erect as 
 ever, and though he could only whisper his 
 commands to his aids, all saw by the pointing 
 of his sword that he meant Forward to victory 
 or death. 
 
 Just as they were in the thickest of the fight, 
 Lowell still leading on his men was pierced 
 by a bullet from shoulder to shoulder and fell 
 into the arms of his aids. Yet even thus he 
 would not check the vigor of the assault, but 
 allowed himself to be carried forward in the 
 track of his rapidly advancing brigade till he 
 reached the village of Middletown and saw that 
 the battle was won. Then he lay down upon 
 his death-couch as calmly as to a night s repose, 
 and, though partially paralyzed, he remained 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 181 
 
 for a time conscious, and gave minute direc 
 tions about the business of his command, 
 dictated some private messages of affection, 
 and twice directed his surgeon to leave him to 
 look to the wounds of other officers and of 
 some wounded prisoners whose cries of pain 
 he overheard, and then quietly and contendedly 
 went to sleep and waked no more on earth. 
 
 I need hardly say that Charles t Russell 
 Lowell was the most brilliant officer I ever met. 
 He was one of an eminently patriotic family, 
 of whose members eight, under thirty years of 
 age, were killed in the war. Life opened for 
 him with exceptional promise. In his college 
 class he was pre-eminent above all rivalry, 
 yet, while marvellously apt in the direction 
 of literature and philosophy, his stronger 
 bent was towards the mechanic arts and prac 
 tical life, and in this direction he easily and 
 quickly attained high responsibilities, and the 
 breaking out of the war found him managing 
 the Mount Savage Iron Works at Cumberland, 
 Md., but on hearing of the attack in Baltimore 
 upon the Massachusetts troops he dropped his 
 work instantly and took the first train for that 
 city. There he decided to offer his services 
 to the government, and, as railway and tele 
 graphic communication with Washington was 
 cut off, he set out on foot, and by devious paths 
 
1 82 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 and shrewd stratagems made his way to the 
 Capital, reaching it only two days after the 
 attack in Baltimore. With keen, prophetic 
 eye he saw that the struggle must be a long 
 one, but with wise judgment and characteristic 
 modesty he chose to learn the art of war from 
 the beginning, and applied for the lowest 
 office in the Regular Artillery. While waiting 
 for his commission, he busied himself with 
 organizing means for the care of Massachusetts 
 troops and for gathering military stores, and 
 found time to scout beyond our lines and 
 inspect the preparations of the Confederates. 
 
 I think it was a good fortune that turned 
 Lowell to the cavalry service. I can hardly 
 imagine his being satisfied with any less 
 venturous command. He was a born cavalier, 
 high-spirited, quick, flashing his plans into 
 instant orders and pushing his orders to prompt 
 execution; yet, with all this dashing, chivalrous 
 spirit, he was always calm and self-possessed. 
 Some one in authority, seeing these traits, 
 offered Lowell a captaincy in the Sixth United 
 States Cavalry, and he instantly accepted, and 
 soon made himself such a master of the tactics 
 that his Colonel regarded him as "the best 
 officer appointed from civil life, that he had 
 ever known." 
 
 His regiment fought under General Stoneman 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 183 
 
 through the Peninsula Campaign, and Lowell 
 was constantly in action, and for distinguished 
 service at Williamsburg and Slatersville was 
 nominated for the brevet of Major. His 
 brother James, referring to the affair at Slaters 
 ville, writes: "Charley was charging, and came 
 upon a man who was aiming a double-barrelled 
 carbine at him. Charley called out to him, 
 Drop that! and he lowered it enough to blow 
 to pieces Charley s coat, which was strapped 
 on his saddle behind him." His fellow-officers 
 recall many such instances of the irresistible 
 power of his commands. 
 
 On the loth of July, 1862, Lowell was ordered 
 to the staff of General McClellan, where he 
 remained till November, achieving marvels of 
 energetic devotion to perilous duties, and seem 
 ing to bear a charmed life in the hottest actions. 
 In the Battle of Antietam he enacted the 
 miracle that Sheridan repeated on a larger 
 scale at Cedar Creek. Sent with orders to 
 General Sedgwick s division, Lowell found it 
 recoiling in confusion under a hot fire. He at 
 once set himself to check the retreat. He 
 seemed to fly from point to point, his eyes 
 flashed fire, his voice shouted defiance, his 
 sword pointed towards the foe, his horse caught 
 his master s spirit, and they two, as one, put 
 new courage into the flying troops, and so 
 
1 84 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 checked the rout which threatened disaster to 
 the right of the Union line. Shortly after, 
 Lowell s horse, pierced with seven bullets, 
 fell under him, while a rifle ball passed through 
 his own coat and another broke the scabbard 
 of his sabre. In recognition of his gallantry 
 in this battle, Lowell was intrusted by General 
 McClellan with the office of bearing to Wash 
 ington, and presenting to President Lincoln, 
 the thirty-nine standards captured in that 
 campaign. 
 
 In November, 1862, Lowell was ordered to 
 report to Governor Andrew, and was com 
 missioned as Colonel to organize the Second 
 Massachusetts Cavalry, and was engaged in 
 this service till May, 1863, when he took his 
 regiment to Washington, and was assigned to 
 the command of all the cavalry of the depart 
 ment, with headquarters at Vienna. Here 
 was spent the winter of 1863-64, in the very 
 unpleasant but very responsible service of 
 guarding a line of thirty or forty miles of the 
 exposed front of Washington from the incur 
 sions of Mosby s Partisan Rangers and other 
 unorganized guerrillas. To do this effectually, 
 Lowell made constant counter-incursions some 
 of which I have already detailed into the sur 
 rounding country, and broke up the haunts of 
 the guerrillas wherever his scouts discovered 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 185 
 
 their camps. Though the country was neces 
 sarily unfamiliar to him, and almost every 
 engagement was with unknown forces in their 
 own chosen positions, he never hesitated to 
 dash right up to their intrenchments, and by 
 the boldness of his onset seldom failed to strike 
 confusion into their ranks. The movements of 
 Lowell s thought were like flashes of lightning. 
 He took in the situation by a seemingly in 
 tuitive discernment. He knew not only how 
 he should deploy his own troops, but how the 
 enemy would deploy theirs. Orderlies would 
 dash up to him in the thick of battle from 
 various sections of his extended lines, reporting 
 an advance here and a retreat there, and his 
 frequent response was: "I know it. I have 
 given the necessary orders." In the wild 
 whirl of battle his eyes glistened with flashing 
 thought, and his face shone with keen intelli 
 gence. Horse and rider seemed one being, 
 instinct with bounding life. As Shakespeare 
 says of the Norman Horseman: "This gallant 
 had witchcraft in his riding. He grew into 
 his seat, and to such wondrous doing brought 
 his horse as he had been incorpsed with the 
 brave beast." Lowell had travelled much on 
 horseback in pursuit of health, and in Algiers 
 his equestrian skill had excited the admira 
 tion even of the Arabs. He had a closely knit, 
 
1 86 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 wiry frame and a light delicate figure, and his 
 intense vitality and exhaustless energy achieved 
 what seemed impossible to others. I have 
 followed him wearily sixty miles in a day and 
 he has come in at night seemingly as fresh as 
 when he set out. He was easily the first in 
 anything to which he laid his hand. He had 
 studied carefully the military systems of the 
 European nations and so was a master in the 
 science, as well as the art, of war. His Reserve 
 Brigade was admitted by many to have been 
 the most superb body of cavalry in the service. 
 He could lead them anywhere. With the regu 
 lars of his command it may have been the 
 prompt obedience of discipline, but with the 
 Massachusetts Volunteers it was the perfect 
 obedience of trust. He was always ready to 
 expose himself when the occasion demanded, 
 and once with his own sabre he cut down a 
 Rebel who stretched out his hand to seize a 
 color. 
 
 Yet, with all this overflowing energy of 
 action, Lowell had a deep repose of thought, and 
 delighted in nothing more than in philosophic 
 contemplations. How often on the march, in 
 scouts after guerrillas, and even in the near 
 presence of danger, have I listened with wonder 
 to his subtle speculations in metaphysics, and 
 his keen insights in social science! He kept 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 187 
 
 always his refined taste and his scholarly habit. 
 He dwelt always in the purest atmosphere of 
 high thought and delicate feeling. Few men 
 have combined so many talents of such brilliant 
 lustre. Few men sacrificed so much that was 
 fascinating in liberal studies and refined activi 
 ties, for the rough pursuits of war. The soldier s 
 life had for him no attractions other than the 
 fulfilment of a high ideal of service to his 
 country and humanity. Yet no one surpassed 
 him in soldierly qualities, whether in prompt 
 movement and fearless daring or in tactical 
 skill and readiness for emergencies. 
 
 "I do not think a braver gentleman, 
 More active valiant or more valiant young, 
 More daring or more bold, hath ever lived 
 To grace the world with noble deeds." 
 
 His virtues were not without distinguished 
 recognition. A high official said, "I do not 
 think there was any officer in all the army so 
 much beloved as Lowell." "We all shed tears," 
 said Custer, u when we knew we had lost him. 
 It is the greatest loss the Cavalry Corps ever 
 suffered." Major General Torbert the leader 
 of the Cavalry Corps says in his official re 
 port: "Thus the service lost one of the most 
 gallant and accomplished soldiers. He was the 
 beau-ideal of a cavalry officer, and his memory 
 
188 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 will never die in the command." Said General 
 Sheridan: "I do not think there was a quality 
 I could have added to Lowell. He was the 
 perfection of a man and a soldier. / could 
 have been better spared." 
 
 His commission as Brigadier General of Vol 
 unteers "for gallant and meritorious services 
 at the Battles of Winchester and Fishers Hill" 
 was signed only the day before his death, 
 too late for him to wear the honors that he had 
 earned so well; but he wears the immortal 
 glory of his heroic devotion, and he can well 
 spare the sounding titles that echo our mortal 
 praise. 
 
 "He in warm life-blood wrote a nobler verse" 
 Than poets sing, or tuneful lips rehearse; 
 
 "Lived battle-odes whose lines were steel and fire, 
 And shaped in squadron-strophes his desire." 
 
 In a niche at the west end of Memorial Hall 
 in Cambridge is a marble bust of Charles Russell 
 Lowell sculptured by Daniel C. French. Upon 
 the bracket that supports the bust is carved 
 in wood the descriptive motto "A knightly 
 soldier, bravely dead," and upon the panel 
 beneath the bracket is cast in bronze the in 
 scription "Charles Russell Lowell, born at 
 Boston, Jan. 2, 1835, graduated at Cambridge, 
 1854, Captain 6th U. S. Cavalry May 14, 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 189 
 
 1861, Colonel 2nd Mass. Cavalry, April 15, 
 1863, Brigadier General of Volunteers, Oct. 
 19, 1864. After thirteen horses had been shot 
 under him, he received his mortal wound at 
 Cedar Creek Oct. 19, 1864, and never wore his 
 
 star." 
 
 Beneath these words is the shield of the 
 University Seal with its motto "Veritas," and 
 then follow these lines from James Russell 
 Lowell s Commemoration Ode: 
 
 "He followed Truth and found her 
 With danger s sweetness round her; 
 So loved her that he died for her." 
 
 At the bottom with the date 1885 are 
 these words: "This bust is the gift of his 
 fellow-officers of the 2nd Mass. Cav., and 
 other admirers of his brilliant leadership, his 
 heroic gallantry and his self-sacrificing Pat 
 riotism." 
 
 James Russell Lowell wrote me under date 
 July 16, 1885: "I looked at the bust of my 
 nephew on Commencement Day and thought 
 it very good. The pose of the head struck me 
 as particularly characteristic. What touched 
 me most of all in looking at it, however, was 
 the pious and affectionate impulse that had 
 wrought with you in having it done. 
 
 "As to the verses for the inscription, I have 
 
190 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 been hoping that some would come to me that 
 I should like better than those you have chosen. 
 But as yet I am like an augur gaping in vain 
 for the birds that will not come. Perhaps some 
 fine day I may be luckier." 
 
 That day never came, and Lowell suggested 
 that I take some lines from Emerson, but it 
 seemed to me more fitting to take them from 
 that Ode which is the finest literary monu 
 ment not only of the poet himself but of the 
 heroes whom he commemorated. 
 
 Because Lowell s star as Brigadier General 
 did not reach him before his death, I suggested 
 to the sculptor to put it in a spray of laurel 
 under his bust, and there it may be seen in 
 Note 12. 
 
 After the Battle of Cedar Creek nothing of 
 importance occurred in the Valley till Novem 
 ber 27th, when General Merritt, the com 
 mander of our division of cavalry, received this 
 order from General Sheridan: "You are hereby 
 directed to take your command beyond the 
 Blue Ridge by way of Ashby s and Snicker s 
 Gaps, and operate against the guerrillas in the 
 region between Rectortown and the Potomac, 
 and between the Blue Ridge and the Bull Run 
 mountains. This section has been the hot 
 bed of lawless bands who have from time to 
 time depredated upon small parties on the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 191 
 
 line of our communications, and upon safe 
 guards left at houses. Their real object is 
 plunder and highway robbery. To clear the 
 country of these parties, you will consume and 
 destroy all forage and subsistence, burn all 
 barns and mills and their contents, and drive 
 off all the live-stock. This order must be 
 literally executed, bearing in mind, however, 
 that no dwellings are to be burned, and that 
 no personal violence be offered the citizens. 
 The responsibility for this destruction must 
 rest with the authorities at Richmond who 
 have acknowledged the legitimacy of guerrilla 
 bands." 
 
 This necessity of destruction is one of the 
 many dark phases of war. As we descended 
 the eastern slope of the Blue Ridge, nothing 
 could be more beautiful than that garden of 
 Virginia flanked on the further side by the 
 Bull Run mountains. It is one of the richest 
 counties in cattle and pasturage, with splendid 
 stock in horses and sheep. It fell to the lot of 
 our brigade to go through the beautiful Valley 
 between Loudon Heights and the Short Hills, 
 and flankers were sent out so as to sweep the 
 whole Valley. Some idea of the general de 
 struction may be formed when I relate that in 
 one day two regiments of our brigade burned 
 more than one hundred and fifty barns, a 
 
192 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 thousand stacks of hay, and six flour-mills, 
 besides driving off fifty horses and three hundred 
 head of cattle. This was the most unpleasant 
 task we were ever compelled to undertake. It 
 was heart-piercing to hear the shrieks of 
 women and children, and to see even men cry 
 ing and beating their breasts, supplicating for 
 mercy on bended knees, begging that at least 
 one cow an only support might be left. 
 But no mercy was allowed. Orders must be 
 obeyed. All that could subsist guerrillas must 
 be destroyed. If citizens would not of them 
 selves cease harboring guerrillas, then we must 
 compel them to desist in the only way open 
 to us. It was a terrible retribution on the 
 county that had for three years supported 
 and lodged the guerrilla bands and sent them 
 out to plunder and murder. 
 
 In this expedition I got even with the Con 
 federacy on the score of horses, and made up 
 for the one the guerrillas had taken from me 
 when I was captured in July, by securing a 
 young but very fine animal, tall and graceful, 
 and with a very dainty step, as if dancing to 
 music, and she carried me to the end of the 
 war. 
 
 Our winter camp in the Shenandoah Valley 
 was not permanently fixed till the middle of 
 December; and horses and men were com- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 193 
 
 pelled to endure great hardships from exposure 
 to wind and cold. Our brigade was employed 
 to guard the construction corps that was en 
 gaged in rebuilding the railroad from Harpers 
 Ferry to Winchester. 
 
 When we were stationed at Charlestown, the 
 dreary monotony of our regular rations of 
 hard-tack and pork was for a single occasion 
 delightfully varied by an elegant breakfast 
 at the house of George Lafayette Washington, 
 a great-grand-nephew of the "Father of his 
 Country." His good lady entertained a few 
 of the officers of my regiment with Southern 
 profuseness, setting before us hoe-cakes and 
 corn cakes in almost endless variety, with honey 
 and apple-butter to make them still more 
 appetizing, and cider to make them more 
 grateful. Since the war, our hostess of that 
 occasion has been compelled by the impoverish 
 ment of her resources to part with the medal 
 presented to George Washington, March 27, 
 1776, by the Continental Congress in com 
 memoration of the evacuation of Boston by 
 the British. Some wealthy and patriotic citi 
 zens of Boston contributed five thousand dollars 
 for the purchase of this precious family heir 
 loom, that it might be preserved in the city 
 that owed its safety to Washington s military 
 skill. 
 
194 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Our camp at Charlestown was on ground 
 made historic not only by its former owner 
 ship by Charles, the younger brother of George 
 Washington, and by having been for a time 
 the resting-place of Braddock s boastful army, 
 but also by the trial and execution here of 
 John Brown. The house in which we were 
 entertained was once the home of Samuel 
 Washington, elder brother of George, and 
 many men known to fame have enjoyed its 
 hospitality, among them Louis Philippe after 
 wards King of France and his younger brothers 
 the Duke de Montpensier and the Count de 
 Beaujolaix. 
 
 The rest of the winter would have been 
 passed quietly in the Valley but for the desire 
 of General Grant to have the railroads about 
 Gordonsville destroyed. To this end we were 
 awakened at half-past four o clock on the I9th 
 of December a cold, dismal, rainy morning 
 and ordered to put up four days rations and 
 forage, and to be ready to move at 6. The 
 expedition consisted of two divisions of cavalry 
 Merritt s and Powell s, in all about five 
 thousand men, and twenty-four wagons and 
 made a column about five miles long, under 
 the command of General Torbert. My regi 
 ment led the advance the first day, and we 
 took the direction of Front Royal. It was a 
 
IX THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 195 
 
 very picturesque sight to look back from some 
 commanding hill and see the column winding 
 like an immense serpent through the Valley. 
 After we passed Front Royal we began to 
 ascend the western slope of the Blue Ridge, 
 and when we had penetrated about half-way 
 through Chester Gap, we were halted for the 
 night. And such a night! A bleaker camp 
 could not be imagined. The winter as a whole 
 was exceptionally severe for Virginia, snow 
 falling frequently, and the mercury sinking 
 sometimes to zero. It was excruciating at the 
 climax of this inclement season to be perched 
 at the top of a pass in the Blue Ridge and to 
 face the icy blasts as they sucked and swirled 
 through the narrow gorge. We made a large 
 fire of logs, and after a supper of hard-bread 
 and coffee, lay down upon blankets, with our 
 saddles for pillows, and our feet towards the 
 fire, which the guard was directed to keep 
 bright. I was so weary with the long day that 
 I slept from nine to twelve o clock, when the 
 extreme cold awakened me. I got up and 
 paced back and forth for an hour trying to get 
 warm; but I could not, the wind was so pierc 
 ing. So I huddled up again under the blankets 
 as near as possible to the fire; but, do my 
 best, the wind would creep in, and blew away 
 all sleep. I never appreciated so keenly how 
 
196 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 eager must be their waiting that is said to be 
 "more than they that watch for the morning." 
 It seemed as if the cold Pleiads would never 
 set. Reveille at 5 was a relief, anything 
 rather than stay longer upon those cold heights 
 in the clouds. We descended the eastern 
 slope of the Blue Ridge, and were soon in a 
 warmer atmosphere. Our course was now 
 south-west, right under the Ridge and hugging 
 it all the way. We made about thirty-five 
 miles between sunrise and sunset, halting for 
 ten minutes every two hours. That night it 
 threatened rain, and I went in with the Major 
 under a shelter-tent, and had a good sleep till 
 4.30, when to our great surprise we waked to 
 find four inches of snow on the ground. My 
 surprise was soon turned to dismay when I 
 found that my mare Loudon whom I had 
 named after the county of her birth was so 
 stiff from yesterday s exertion and from lying 
 on the cold, wet ground, that she could hardly 
 move. I was afraid every moment that she 
 would give out, and then what could I do? 
 Early in the day the storm changed from snow 
 to sleet and then to a very cold rain, and as 
 we dismounted to rest our horses we wet our 
 feet and could not get them warm again. We 
 halted at four o clock on the summit of one 
 of a circle of hills encompassing the town of 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 197 
 
 Criglersville, and there I beheld the grandest 
 cloud-scenery that I had ever witnessed. The 
 whole valley was a vast amphitheatre in the 
 hills, whose sides and summits were heavily 
 hung with thick clouds big with storm and 
 tempest. The firmament above our heads 
 was perfectly clear, and we stood upon the one 
 elevation of all around that was open to the 
 eye of heaven. It was very grand, but I have 
 enjoyed the pictured memory of it more than 
 I did the actual sight, as I was suffering so 
 much from the cold, and was so anxious about 
 my horse. I was frightened to think of having 
 to walk the rest of the journey, as many were 
 already dismounted from like cause, and were 
 wearily dragging their way through the slush 
 and mud, vainly trying to keep up with the 
 fast-passing column. As we descended from 
 this summit, it grew colder, and before we had 
 gone many miles, the ground was frozen and 
 our ears and feet almost so. 
 
 We soon approached Madison Court House, 
 and here we first struck the enemy and skirm 
 ished. It was now eight o clock, and our 
 brigade was drawn up in line of battle for an 
 hour, waiting till our advance developed the 
 force of the enemy. It was a bitterly cold 
 and most cheerless hour. The thought of the 
 night before us was enough to freeze the blood. 
 
198 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 But soon the order came to fall back into the 
 woods and encamp. Fortunately it was a 
 pine forest into which we now entered, and 
 the thick boughs broke the force of the wind. 
 We cut down small pine-trees and taking their 
 flat-spreading branches laid them upon the 
 snow for a bed, and then built a fire and sur 
 rounded ourselves with a barricade of boughs 
 stuck in the snow. It was eleven o clock 
 before we had supper, and as we had not 
 eaten anything since six in the morning, of 
 course we were very hungry. That night we 
 had a splendid sleep. Pine boughs were as 
 grateful as mattresses to our chilled and tired 
 frames. We slept within two feet of the fire 
 and so kept warm. Five hours of rest, and 
 reveille called us to go again on our journey. 
 We passed through Madison Court House and 
 took the road to Gordonsville. It was very 
 cold, and the horses slipped round on the 
 frozen snow like hogs on ice. But we pressed 
 on to the Rapidan, broke through the ice and 
 forded the river, and made a reconnoissance 
 towards Gordonsville, driving in the enemy s 
 advance guards and capturing from Johnson s 
 and McCausland s brigades two pieces of artil 
 lery. In this way we discovered that reinforce 
 ments had already reached Gordonsville from 
 Richmond, and that the place was too strong 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 199 
 
 to be attacked. We also learned that Whar- 
 ton s division of infantry had been detached 
 from Early s forces at Staunton in order to 
 check Torbert, and that they were approaching 
 by way of Charlottesville. So we were forced 
 to give up the object of the expedition and to 
 retreat as fast as possible. That night we en 
 camped again in the woods the same way as 
 the night before, only we had become so chilled 
 through the exposures of the day that it was 
 almost impossible to get warm. The nearer 
 I got to the fire, the more I would shiver. My 
 blood seemed curdled with the cold, and as it 
 crept slowly through my veins, made me shake 
 in every fibre. 
 
 Friday, December 23 d, reveille sounded at 
 5 again, and, with a breakfast of coffee alone, 
 we started. Our rations and forage were now 
 exhausted, and for the rest of our journey we 
 must live on the country. In the course of 
 the day our headquarters forager brought in 
 two hams, a spare-rib, and enough flour for 
 several days. We marched until eleven o clock 
 that night, and encamped under the cold light 
 of stars on a side hill so steep that we had to 
 crawl on our hands and knees to keep from 
 falling. The top of the snow was frozen into 
 a hard crust which the horses hoofs scarcely 
 broke. However we made ourselves comfort- 
 
200 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 able with a log fire, a supper of coffee, ham, 
 and griddle-cakes, and a bed of boughs, and 
 after five hours we started again. 
 
 Our regimental position this day was in the 
 rear of the column, a very uncomfortable place 
 to be in when the column is long and the roads 
 are bad. There were many places where an 
 obstruction or break in the road made it impos 
 sible for more than two horses to pass abreast; 
 and, as we generally marched by fours, the 
 column at such places would be drawn out to 
 twice its normal length; and if the advance 
 moved steadily it would get away eight or 
 ten miles from the rear at such an obstruction, 
 and then the rear companies, after having 
 waited to let the others pass the obstacle, would 
 have to gallop to close up the column. Gen 
 erally, however, at such a place, the advance 
 waits for the rear to catch up, as a caterpillar 
 when it meets an obstruction huddles up, 
 fixes its tail, then lengthens out over the ob 
 stacle, fixes its head and, drawing in its length 
 ened body, huddles up again, and then creeps 
 on as before with equal length. Besides this 
 unevenness of motion, a position in the rear is 
 also unpleasant from the sights one has to wit 
 ness. On this day we passed hundreds of horses 
 worn out by the toilsome march and left dead 
 by the side of the road; and we kept passing 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 2OI 
 
 dismounted men who could not keep up with 
 the column, some of them with boots worn 
 through and a few barefoot and leaving tracks 
 of blood in the frozen crust. That night we 
 got into camp at nine o clock, cold, tired, and 
 hungry; still we brightened up a little to 
 think it was Christmas Eve, and that our friends 
 at home were enjoying it in quiet comfort and 
 happy meetings, even though we could not 
 enjoy it, but must spread our cold and cheerless 
 tables in the presence of those enemies who 
 otherwise would make our home firesides 
 cold and cheerless as our own. 
 
 Next day was Sunday December 25th 
 and as we woke, the "Merry Christmas " 
 wishes went around, but always with the added 
 wish for a merrier Christmas next year. 
 
 We forded, this day, the two branches of the 
 Rappahannock, having first to cut a passage 
 through the ice that covered the river. In our 
 march we often had to dismount and to lead 
 our horses down the steep hills, sliding with 
 them most of the way. Their shoes were now 
 so smooth that they with difficulty kept from 
 falling even on level ground. Our sufferings 
 this day from the cold were very severe. Our 
 feet were almost frozen, encased as they were 
 in wet and frozen boots, and dangling in the 
 frosty air. There is not sufficient exercise in 
 
202 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 the slow motion of a cavalry column to send 
 the warm blood away down to the feet. Our 
 only relief was a partial one when the column 
 halted in stamping upon the ground. 
 
 Next day December 26th we passed 
 through Sulphur Springs, whose once magnifi 
 cent hotel, where the beauty and chivalry of 
 Virginia used to gather and revel, was now a 
 mass of ruins, and the place was almost utterly 
 deserted. We drank of the waters, without 
 however renewing our youth. In the course 
 of this day the column marched over a part of 
 the way along which five months before I 
 had wearily walked as a prisoner, and I noted 
 several places where I had sunk down by the 
 road exhausted. It brought the thought of 
 my deliverance vividly home to me, and cheered 
 me with thankfulness. As we passed through 
 Warrenton, General Torbert narrowly escaped 
 being killed by a shot fired by a guerrilla from 
 some safe concealment. Leaving Warrenton, 
 we took the road to White Plains, and went 
 into camp in that region infested with guerrillas. 
 
 Next day December 27th we marched 
 through Middleburg and Upperville, and re- 
 crossed the Blue Ridge at Ashby s Gap, being 
 fired upon several times by guerrillas concealed 
 in the woods. We forded the Shenandoah with 
 difficulty in its winter flood, and went into 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 203 
 
 camp on its north bank at ten o clock. After 
 we got asleep a heavy rain began to fall, and 
 I awoke at three o clock to find myself lying in 
 a puddle of water safely held in the hollows of 
 my rubber blanket. I got up and readjusted 
 it and lay down again, but was too chilled to 
 sleep. 
 
 An early breakfast and a short march brought 
 us back to our old camps near Winchester, 
 thankful to have escaped from the hardships 
 and exposures of the hardest expedition of the 
 war with only a few painful reminders of it in 
 chilblains, shivers, and twinges of rheumatism. 
 
 We now tried to make our horses and our 
 selves comfortable for the rest of the winter. 
 For me it was very slow work, as I did not 
 wish to take any of the men from their work 
 on their own quarters to help me on mine. So 
 it was nearly two months before my quarters 
 were made comfortable; and I was settled in 
 them only two days when the order came to 
 have all the horses shod with steel corks, all 
 unserviceable horses turned in to the Quarter 
 master, five days rations in haversacks, eight 
 rounds of ammunition in cartridge-boxes, thirty 
 pounds of forage on each horse, fifteen days 
 rations in the wagons, and all to be in readiness 
 to start on the morning of February 27th upon 
 an expedition towards Lynchburg. Grant s in- 
 
204 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 structions were to destroy the Virginia Central 
 Railroad and the James River Canal, capture 
 Lynchburg if practicable, and then either to 
 join General Sherman in North Carolina or 
 return to Winchester as Sheridan should think 
 best. 
 
 But for the constant schooling of a soldier s 
 life in the virtue of equanimity, taking things 
 as they come without complaint, it would have 
 been a sore trial to give up so hastily the 
 preparations of months. I had received from 
 friends at home and had just finished catalogu 
 ing a soldier s library of several hundred vol 
 umes, and I had begun to distribute them 
 among the men when this order came, and I 
 was compelled to box them up immediately. 
 In order that they might not fail utterly of 
 their mission, I sent them to the Agent of the 
 United States Sanitary Commission in Win 
 chester, who saw that they were distributed 
 through the hospitals. But I never saw them 
 more. 
 
 The morning of February 27, 1865, was cold 
 and rainy, and snow still covered the ground, 
 but we started punctually as ordered, and took 
 the turnpike towards Strasburg. The column 
 was about ten miles long. The First Division, 
 in which was my regiment, consisted of 4,787 
 men and was commanded by General Devin. 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 205 
 
 The other division, of 4,600 men, was led by 
 General Custer. Each division had one sec 
 tion of artillery. The train consisted of four 
 baggage wagons, sixteen ammunition wagons, 
 eight ambulances, eight pontoons, and about 
 three miles of pack-mules carrying fifteen 
 days rations of coffee, sugar, and salt. General 
 Merritt was made Chief of Cavalry and General 
 Sheridan directed in person the movement. 
 Never was a more superb body of cavalry sent 
 into the field, and never were any more ably 
 commanded. These ten thousand cavaliers 
 were as one in their fearless devotion to any 
 duty set before them by their admired leader. 
 They were almost all veterans, toughened to 
 war s exposures, disciplined to its sternest 
 demands, fearless of its dangers, and heedless 
 of its alarms. And they were superbly mounted, 
 not a halting animal in the miles on miles of 
 thick-ranked steeds. Alas! that thousands of 
 these horses were never to reach that journey s 
 end! 
 
 We made thirty miles the first day, passing 
 over the familiar battlefields about Newtown, 
 Middletown, Cedar Creek, and Strasburg, and 
 encamped near Woodstock. We found the 
 streams much swollen with the rains that were 
 still pouring down and washing the gathered 
 snow into the rivers, but our pontoon boats 
 
206 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 bore us safely and easily over them. The 
 second day we made twenty-nine miles and 
 approached Harrisonburg. The third day 
 brought us to Mount Crawford, where General 
 Rosser s cavalry attempted to delay our column 
 by trying to burn the bridges over Middle 
 River. But two of Colonel Capehart s regi 
 ments swam the stream a terribly cold swim 
 on March 1st, but they routed Rosser and 
 captured thirty prisoners and twenty ambu 
 lances and wagons. After crossing the river, 
 we went into camp near Staunton where 
 General Early had made his winter quarters. 
 The fourth day, without any delay for recon- 
 noitering, the column pushed right on and en 
 tered Staunton, which General Early had 
 hastily evacuated in order to make a stand in 
 a more favorable position at Waynesboro, 
 where he could have the Blue Ridge at his 
 back to flee to in case of defeat. And well he 
 did this, for it was the only way he saved 
 himself and Wharton and two other of his 
 Generals. Custer had the advance that day 
 and found the enemy in his chosen position 
 with two brigades of infantry behind breast 
 works flanked by artillery and cavalry. Custer 
 made his dispositions to attack at once, send 
 ing Pennington s brigade dismounted around 
 the left flank of the enemy, while he with the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 207 
 
 other two brigades, partly mounted and partly 
 dismounted, boldly attacked and impetuously 
 carried the works in his front. Then he im 
 mediately ordered two regiments the Eighth 
 New York and First Connecticut to charge 
 in column of fours through the broken line of 
 the enemy. This they did gallantly and 
 pressed on through the town and across the 
 South Fork of the Shenandoah, where they 
 spread out in a thin long line ready to scoop 
 up the retreating enemy. But there was little 
 need of using force to this end, as the Rebels 
 at once threw down their arms, and surrend 
 ered, with cheers at the brilliant stroke by 
 which they were captured. The substantial 
 results of this victory were eleven pieces of 
 artillery with horses and caissons complete, 
 two hundred wagons loaded with subsistence, 
 seventeen battle-flags, and sixteen hundred 
 prisoners. The results from a military point of 
 view were much greater, as the Shenandoah 
 Valley was thus cleared of all enemies, and the 
 undisturbed crossing of the Blue Ridge was 
 secured at Rockfish Gap, the only pass that at 
 this season was free from snow. 
 
 The next day March 3d our brigade de 
 stroyed the iron bridge at Waynesboro by 
 heaping up railroad ties at intervals upon it 
 and then setting them on fire, thus allowing 
 
208 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 the heat to warp the bridge to destruction. 
 Then we took up our march through Rockfish 
 Gap towards Charlottesville, having the hard 
 est and most destructive day s tramp I ever 
 knew; for the rain had been pouring in tor 
 rents through three days, and the roads were 
 bad beyond description, and horses and men 
 could hardly be recognized for the mud which 
 covered them. As the horses by their tramp 
 ing kneaded out the water from the clayey 
 mud, and as each successive rank of fours 
 naturally stepped in the hollows made by the 
 rank in front of it, the mud soon lay in ridges 
 a foot and a half to two feet high like heavy 
 beams across the road, and the horses who 
 were unfortunate enough to be at the end of 
 the moving column had to step very high and 
 with great labor over these barriers, soon ex 
 hausting themselves. We were always glad, on 
 these muddy days especially, when it came our 
 turn to lead the column; and then too it was 
 quite an advantage to get into camp at reason 
 able hours at night. On one of these days 
 when we brought up the rear we did not bivouac 
 till four o clock in the morning. 
 
 As we approached Charlottesville the mayor 
 of the city met us at the outskirts and with 
 profuse ceremony delivered up the keys of 
 the public buildings. But General Custer, 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 209 
 
 who was in the advance, waived all formalities 
 and dashed through the town and gobbled up 
 some cavalry and artillery that were attempt 
 ing to escape. 
 
 Sheridan ordered a halt of two days for the 
 cavalry at Charlottesville to wait for the 
 wagons to extricate themselves from the mud 
 and to catch up with us. Still we were not 
 idle, but spent the time in destroying the 
 Orange & Alexandria Railroad for fifteen miles 
 in either direction towards Gordonsville and 
 towards Lynchburg. This was done to pre 
 vent troops from Richmond and from Lynch 
 burg from massing in our rear when we should 
 go forward to the James River. We also took 
 advantage of the rich country about as yet 
 unwasted with war s desolations to gather 
 large quantities of forage and subsistence. 
 Thus our enforced delay was an unfortunate 
 one for the city and its vicinity. Our appetites, 
 never feeble, were doubly whetted by the keen 
 mountain air, and broiled chicken and roast 
 pig were luxuries not to be passed untasted. 
 Then too the wine-cellars of the gentry dis 
 gorged for us their precious treasures covered 
 with the dust of years, since they were gathered 
 from the sunny banks of the Rhine and the 
 Danube. Many of the men took more peri 
 lous tastes of apple-jack warranted, it was 
 
210 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 said, to kill at forty paces and sure enough 
 they who touched it to their lips would fall 
 as if shot, so overmastering was the potent 
 draught. The foragers for pork had great 
 sport in gathering their unctuous supplies. I 
 saw some of them, just as they struck the 
 trail of a sow and a litter of eight fat pigs root 
 ing in the woods. Alas! poor pigs! Not one 
 was left to tell the harrowing tale or squeal 
 his lonely woe. The eager foragers charged 
 with drawn sabres upon the porcine pack, and 
 though the pigs swift wheelings drew many an 
 ineffectual thrust, yet in a very few minutes 
 the cavaliers secured their booty, and were 
 soon distributing the unusually savory rations 
 among their companions. 
 
 This delay by reason of mud and rain com 
 pelled the abandonment of the plan to capture 
 Lynchburg, as it was already being reinforced. 
 But Sheridan determined to destroy the rail 
 road as far towards Lynchburg as Amherst 
 Court House, and the James River Canal as 
 far as Newmarket. Custer was assigned to the 
 first labor, and his men made short work of it. 
 They would build up a large mound of sleepers 
 and then cross the rails on top of them so that 
 when the fire was kindled they would bend 
 with their own weight; and then, to destroy 
 them even more completely, the men would 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 211 
 
 draw them with their red hot centres from the 
 flames and wind them about telegraph poles. 
 A regiment could thus destroy in a day a whole 
 mile of railroad. Devin s division was assigned 
 the task of destroying the canal by opening and 
 disabling the locks; and they also burned all 
 the mills and factories along the banks. One 
 squadron of the Second Massachusetts Cavalry 
 was sent forward to secure the bridge over the 
 James at Duguidsville in order that Sheridan 
 might cross and make a raid towards Appo- 
 mattox Court House, and destroy the South 
 Side Railroad from that point to Farmville and 
 so cut off all of Lee s sources of supply. But 
 the Confederates had anticipated this design 
 and had covered the bridge with combustible 
 materials which they kindled at our first 
 approach. One of our companies then recon 
 noitred towards Lynchburg and went within 
 sight of the city and found that it was strongly 
 fortified and occupied by a heavy force of 
 infantry, which was just as Young s scouts 
 had already reported to Sheridan. These 
 facts together with the burning by the enemy 
 of the bridge at Hardwicksville and the im 
 possibility of crossing the James in its then 
 swollen condition with the eight pontoons at 
 our command made Sheridan give up his plan 
 of destroying the South Side Railroad. And 
 
212 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 of course he could not join Sherman even if 
 he wanted to which he didn t. Neither did 
 he care to return to Winchester, as the whole 
 country north of the James was now open to 
 him and he might continue his destruction of 
 the northern lines of Lee s supply. Besides 
 he wanted to be in with Grant at the death of 
 the Confederacy and to have his cavalry share 
 the honors of the final victory, which he believed 
 to be very near. So we faced about and 
 marched towards Richmond along the James 
 River, reaching Columbia on the loth of March, 
 having destroyed on the way the canal and all 
 the mills with immense quantities of tobacco, 
 flour, and bacon, and having captured many 
 canal-boats loaded with shot and shell for the 
 Rebel army. The enemy s cavalry kept up a 
 constant fire upon us from safe retreats on the 
 southern bank of the river, but with little or 
 no effect, and they burned every bridge to 
 prevent our crossing. One of our brigades 
 pressed on as far as Goochland and eight miles 
 beyond, destroying the canal the whole distance. 
 Sheridan halted one day at Columbia to let 
 the trains catch up. For the rain and the mud 
 were still delaying them, and the mules were 
 getting exhausted. But the thousands of tired 
 mules found helpful friends in thousands of 
 negroes who gladly joined our column, and 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 213 
 
 with a will put their sturdy shoulders to the 
 wheels, and lifted along the stalled wagons so 
 that we were not long delayed. At Columbia, 
 Sheridan sent despatches to Grant notifying 
 him of our success, position, and condition, 
 and our intention to join him, and requesting 
 that supplies be sent to meet us at White House 
 Landing, and a pontoon bridge to take us over 
 the Pamunkey. These despatches were so im 
 portant that they were sent in duplicate by 
 two sets of scouts, one set by land around 
 the Rebel lines, the other set down the James 
 River through the Rebel lines. Both were 
 safely delivered; but, as in many another 
 instance, the farthest way round was the 
 nearest way home. The shorter way through 
 Richmond and Petersburg was beset with 
 dangers, and suspicious questionings had to be 
 answered at every turn. The danger on both 
 sides on one side of being shot as a deserter 
 and on the other of being shot as an invader 
 in passing from the Rebel to the Union lines at 
 Petersburg was not the least that was en 
 countered. 
 
 But how was Sheridan to get to White 
 House without a very long and wearisome 
 march? The railroad from Richmond to 
 Gordonsville was still intact, and Lee already 
 aware of our presence could throw his infantry 
 
214 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 on our front or flank or rear as he chose. He 
 had shown himself able to keep his line of 
 defence before Grant and at the same time to 
 detach large bodies of infantry to assist in 
 the defence of more distant places that were 
 exposed to the raids of Sheridan s cavalry. 
 And now Sheridan was not many miles away, 
 and threatening all the northern sources of 
 supply for Lee s army. It was certain that 
 Lee would make a desperate effort to disable 
 Sheridan. In this emergency, Sheridan decided 
 first to prevent the enemy from getting in our 
 rear. This he accomplished by sending Devin s 
 division to Louisa Court House to destroy the 
 Virginia Central Railroad as far as Frederick s 
 Hall, and Custer s division to destroy it from 
 Frederick s Hall to Beaver Dam station. 
 Then fighting his way as far as he could towards 
 Richmond till he should encounter Lee s 
 infantry, Sheridan, under cover of this pre 
 tended attack upon Richmond, would withdraw 
 and march by a short detour on the north side 
 of the Pamunkey to White House Landing. 
 This bold plan was fully carried out. It took 
 but two days to destroy the railroad completely 
 for thirty-five miles. Then both divisions 
 marched by different routes towards Richmond, 
 meaning to come together at Ashland. The 
 first determined opposition that Devin s divi- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 215 
 
 sion met was developed at the bridge over the 
 South Anna. Here the Second Massachusetts 
 Cavalry, having the advance, dismounted and 
 charged up to the bridge and then dashed 
 across it, driving away the artillerists posted 
 to defend it, and turned their own guns four 
 2O-pound Parrotts upon them, causing fearful 
 havoc. Ouster s division marched by way of 
 Ground Squirrel Bridge, but before he got there 
 he intercepted a telegram from General Early 
 to Lee, stating that he was following Sheridan 
 with two hundred cavalry and intended to 
 strike him in the rear at daylight. Custer, 
 without delaying his main column, sent out a 
 single regiment after him. It soon scattered 
 the party, capturing two of Early s staff- 
 officers and most of the men. Early himself 
 escaped by swimming the South Anna River. 
 Thus ingloriously ended his Valley Campaign 
 in which he had losj: all his army, every piece 
 of artillery, and all his trains. Thus ended 
 also what had been for many months our 
 frequent joke: "What s the news from Sheridan 
 this morning?" "He s gone to press Early." 
 
 The whole cavalry force reached Ashland on 
 the morning of March I5th, and found the 
 enemy in force under Longstreet with Pickett s 
 and Johnson s divisions of infantry and Fitz- 
 hugh Lee s cavalry. These had been sent out 
 
2l6 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 by General Lee with orders to annihilate 
 Sheridan and his rangers. We skirmished with 
 them till dusk, and then Sheridan, leaving 
 Colonel Pennington of Custer s division with 
 one brigade to keep up the show of an intended 
 advance, withdrew the rest of his command, 
 and marching northward recrossed the South 
 Anna River and pressed on over Little River 
 and the North Anna. Colonel Pennington 
 withdrew after dusk, and by midnight the 
 whole command was in camp near Mount 
 Carmel Church, and Sheridan slept quietly, 
 as there was now a clear road before him north 
 of the Pamunkey. 
 
 But there was one of the command who, 
 though off duty, did not sleep quietly, and who 
 looked more like a drowned rat than anything 
 else. And he felt so too. It happened that 
 evening that the Second Massachusetts Cavalry 
 came to the ford of the North Anna about 
 eight o clock, and, as it was rainy and very 
 dark, the marks of the ford as it rose from the 
 opposite side of the river had for some time 
 been invisible from the southern bank. So 
 the only guide to the ford for each cavalry-man 
 was the horse in front of him, and, without 
 suspecting it, this was another instance of the 
 blind leading the blind. For the unconscious 
 pressure of the current upon the legs of the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 217 
 
 horses had slowly but persistently pushed 
 each successive rank farther and farther down 
 the stream and away from the only practicable 
 ford. Thus it came to pass that when we 
 entered the river, the column s line of crossing 
 had been pushed so far down that our horses 
 began to flounder wildly in the deep water, 
 and they pressed confusedly for the nearest 
 point of the opposite bank, which at this place 
 was so steep that my Colonel s powerful 
 stallion just before me, in his mad efforts to 
 climb with his rider the precipitous shore, 
 fell over backward and knocked me off my 
 horse, and before I could clutch the bank, I 
 was trampled upon by the swimming horses 
 behind me and crushed down under the water 
 to the bed of the river; and there I was, my 
 back prone upon the mud and sand, and my 
 face and front exposed to the merciless kicks 
 of the frantic beasts who were unwittingly 
 making a stepping-stone of my pummelled 
 body to assist them up the treacherous muddy 
 bank. I was only saved from broken bones 
 by the fortunate depth of the water, which 
 buoyed up the otherwise crushing weight of 
 the struggling steeds. My escape from a 
 watery grave was due chiefly to the happy 
 chance that before I was pushed under the 
 river, I had noticed a flat boat moored only a 
 
218 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 few feet away. Happily, too, I had sense 
 enough left to know that my only chance of 
 escape was to get under its protection away 
 from the horses feet. So I wriggled along on 
 the river bottom in that direction, pulling 
 myself by laying hold of what seemed, and 
 I doubt not were, the roots of the trees growing 
 on the bank. While thus struggling for dear 
 life, I experienced that miracle of thought that, 
 in such fateful moments when the soul enters 
 the shadow of instant dissolution, flashes its 
 lightning-like illumination through the dark 
 chambers of the memory, bringing into clear 
 view many a long-forgotten scene, and pre 
 senting in a moment the whole drama of life. 
 It seems as if I could fill an hour with the mere 
 enumeration of the vivid recollections of those 
 few moments when the waters drew their black 
 pall over my outward sight only to flash more 
 clearly upon the inner vision the instantaneous 
 picture of the past. Even this supreme crisis 
 of intensest life with its thousand thronging 
 memories and its unspeakably solemn anticipa 
 tions was relieved with a touch of humor as 
 I thought of the unheroic homeliness of my 
 being smothered there alone in the river s moist 
 shroud as contrasted with the sustaining in 
 spirations in meeting death with brave com 
 panions on the field of glorious war. I said 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 219 
 
 to myself: "This inglorious taking off is hardly 
 what I anticipated in coming out to fight for 
 my country. None will know whether I made 
 a brave ending, or where I met my death. I 
 shall not even be missed till daylight, and if 
 my body should chance to be picked up down 
 stream, it will be labelled * unknown/ and no 
 4 monument more lasting than brass will 
 tell to the coming generations of the heroism of 
 the soldier s sacrifice." At this harmless temp 
 tation of the devil I laughed inwardly, and 
 then went on with my wriggling, and as soon 
 as I was free from the legs of the horses, rose 
 under the scow and struck out for the farther 
 side, and had just strength enough left to pull 
 myself out of the river into the friendly boat. 
 As soon as I had disgorged some of the water 
 and sand, and could speak, I shouted for 
 Colonel Crowninshield, fearing that he had 
 shared my unwilling baptism without my 
 fortunate escape; for there, right before me, 
 was his riderless horse struggling with mine 
 and others to clamber up the steep and muddy 
 bank. But no answer came to my shouting 
 and I learned soon after that the Colonel had 
 with his usual quickness of insight seen the 
 cause of the danger we were in, and, leaving his 
 horse to shift for himself, had hurried to the 
 ford to make a fire for a beacon light and so 
 
220 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 save the rest of the column from our misfortune. 
 I at once gave myself to the task of extricating 
 the horses from their perilous situation, and 
 with the aid of two of our men we managed, 
 by getting a purchase on the trees growing 
 by the bank, to pull them out by their bridle- 
 reins. My horse and myself presented, as may 
 be imagined, a sorry spectacle. Her saddle 
 had been turned under her by my overturning, 
 and in her struggles the blanket had become 
 detached and had gone down stream, and in her 
 pawing away at the bank she had completely 
 covered herself with its reddish clay. I was 
 dripping with water and weighted down with 
 unmeasured quantities of mud and sand. 
 I counted thirteen pocketsful, as I emptied them 
 one after another. Every front button of 
 my overcoat had been torn off by the horses 
 hoofs, my poor hatless head bore the marks of 
 my pummelling in many a bump, and my 
 hair, mouth, nose, and ears were filled with 
 sand and plastered with mud. After a long 
 search in the darkness, I found my regiment 
 encamped not far from the ford, and the 
 officers sleeping around a faint fire of logs 
 struggling to burn in the drizzling rain. I did 
 not dare to lie down in my wet clothes, this 
 chilly night of the I5th of March, so I stood 
 through the rest of its slow-moving hours, 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 221 
 
 turning round and round as on a spit before 
 the fire, trying vainly to thaw out the shivers 
 and dry my dripping garments. The world s 
 record for a willing stay under water was in 
 1910 three minutes and six seconds. What in 
 1864 my unwilling record was I cannot tell, 
 but I know the time I went under, as my watch 
 stopped at 8.25, and according to my feelings 
 the water must have got to it only a few 
 seconds before. 
 
 We took an early start in the morning in the 
 direction of Mangohick Church, and next 
 day March I7th reached King William 
 Court House. Both these days were cloudy, 
 and though March winds might stiffen they 
 could not dry my clothing. Yet, thanks to the 
 vigor nourished by our outdoor life, I caught no 
 cold, and felt almost as well as ever after a few 
 days. 
 
 We reached White House on the i8th of 
 March, tired and dirty and tattered and torn, 
 but thankful for preservation from a thousand 
 perils, and ready after a few days refitting to 
 undertake new labors. 
 
 Sheridan said in his official report: "There 
 was never a march where nature offered 
 such impediments and shrouded herself in such 
 gloom as upon this." "Sixteen out of the 
 twenty days we were drenched with almost 
 
222 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 incessant rains." " Swollen and almost impassa 
 ble streams, bottomless swamps, and well-nigh 
 bottomless roads opposed our way." " But both 
 officers and men were buoyed up by the thought 
 that we were on our way to help our brothers 
 in arms before Petersburg in the final struggle." 
 
 It was very unselfish in Sheridan, who had had 
 full command of a department, to go to Grant 
 and to take the risk of being put under com 
 manders of much less experience. To be sure, 
 he was immediately rewarded by an enlarged 
 and independent command, but that does not 
 detract from the disinterested patriotism of his 
 motives. 
 
 We found at White House not nearly enough 
 horses to supply our losses. We had left nearly 
 four thousand by the way, nearly all of them dis 
 abled by hoof-rot or grease-heel and scratches. 
 I lost one the tenth day out. In the wading 
 through the mud the horses were apt to scratch 
 themselves in the unaccustomed effort, and, as 
 we could not stop to wash the wound, every 
 slightest scratch would be aggravated by con 
 stant contact with the mud till in two or three 
 days the horse would be useless, and have to be 
 shot to prevent his afterwards reviving and 
 becoming of service to the enemy. So our way 
 was strewn with the dead bodies of these dumb 
 but heroic partners in our toils and perils. 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 223 
 
 Most who lost their horses obtained a remount 
 from the captured horses and mules. But 
 many were compelled to walk, long distances. 
 We had marched about four hundred miles in 
 twenty days, and by the destruction of hun 
 dreds of miles of railway and canal made it 
 impossible for Lee to campaign or get supplies 
 any more north of the James. The threatening 
 advance upon Ashland and the quick retreat in 
 the night foiled Lee s plan to cut us off from 
 joining Grant; for though Longstreet, on dis 
 covering the next morning that we had vanished 
 from his front, marched at once to Hanover 
 Court House, he could not at that point cross 
 the Pamunkey to again block our advance, and 
 after that he could not get to White House as 
 quickly as we. So without further efforts to 
 check us he returned to Richmond. 
 
 Our entire loss in men in the whole expedi 
 tion did not exceed a hundred, and thousands of 
 negroes, looking upon us as their deliverers, 
 followed our column into White House. 
 
 The rich results of this campaign show the 
 advantage of delegating discretionary powers 
 to leaders who are trusty. The original plan of 
 joining Sherman could not have borne half the 
 fruits. Grant had discovered that Sheridan was 
 not only a brilliant raider and an impetuous 
 fighter, but also a deliberate strategist and a 
 
224 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 careful handler of his men. So in giving his 
 instructions at Winchester, Grant left to 
 Sheridan to determine his course by the light he 
 should get on the way. And Sheridan chose, as 
 we all did, to throw our lot with our fellow- 
 soldiers of the Army of the Potomac. 
 
 It took us six days to get ready again for the 
 field; and even then many for lack of equip 
 ment had to be sent to dismounted camp. For 
 the horses were still dying daily by hundreds 
 from the exhaustion of the march. Our camp 
 was on the border of an immense swamp which 
 before we left became nearly filled with dead 
 horses unburied, whose noisome and noxious 
 stench had already begun to poison our men, 
 many of whom were suddenly seized with chills 
 and fever. It was a perfect paradise for turkey 
 buzzards, but a hungry graveyard for horse and 
 man. 
 
 On the morning of March 25th at 6.30 we 
 started from White House on the march that in 
 sixteen days was to end at Appomattox. The 
 first day brought us by way of Charles City 
 Court House to Harrisons Landing. The 
 second day we skirted the north bank of the 
 James past Malvern Hill to Deep Bottom, where 
 we crossed the river and went into camp on the 
 southern bank. The night was intensely cold, 
 and when we started again at 6 our march was 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 225 
 
 over frozen ground. We soon reached the 
 Appomattox River near Point of Rocks and 
 crossed on two pontoon bridges, passed through 
 Fort Cummings near the southern bank of the 
 river and then through Forts Haskell and 
 Stedman. We had thus been near enough to 
 the Rebel batteries to be under their fire at 
 times, and could see in the distance the church 
 spires of Petersburg. That night we went into 
 camp near Hancock station on Grant s extreme 
 left at the terminus of the military railroad 
 which ran for fifteen miles from flank to flank 
 of the Union Army. 
 
 We now enter upon the closing scenes of 
 this bloody drama of rebellion. When Grant 
 learned that Sheridan was approaching by 
 way of the White House, he delayed the final 
 movement in order that he might have the 
 cavalry at hand for a decisive stroke. He 
 felt that the force of the rebellion was nearly 
 spent. By the capture of Atlanta, Sherman 
 had severed the Confederacy in twain, and 
 had destroyed one of its chief sources for the 
 supply of food and ammunition; and he was 
 now sweeping a wide swath of desolation 
 northward towards Virginia, threatening dis 
 aster to any force that might escape from 
 before Grant s tightening clutches. By the 
 crushing defeat of Hood before Nashville, 
 
226 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Thomas had practically annihilated the Army 
 of the West, and so put an end to the hopes of 
 the Confederacy beyond the Alleghanies. And 
 now Sheridan had destroyed those main 
 branches of Lee s communications the Lynch- 
 burg Railroad and the James River Canal. 
 The effective forces of the Rebellion were thus 
 confined to the small region between the Neuse 
 and the James, the Blue Ridge and the Atlantic. 
 And even there its life was flickering; for it 
 had lost its hold upon the people. They could 
 no longer be drawn into enlistment by bribes 
 nor threats. They could not be made to con 
 tribute even the necessary supplies for the 
 army, except by forced levies. The excite 
 ment and enthusiasm that had taken them out 
 of the Union had long since cooled. The fair 
 fields of Virginia, which were now to drink the 
 last drops of sacrificial blood, had already 
 swallowed up nearly one-half of the dreadful 
 holocaust of precious lives estimated at two 
 millions wounded or disabled and half a million 
 killed in the whole war over the whole extent 
 of the country. How this proud State would 
 have hesitated before throwing down the gage 
 of battle, had she known how War with horrid 
 front would stalk across her borders, trampling 
 into barrenness her fruitful fields, felling her 
 forests to give clearer sweep to his fiery coursers 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 227 
 
 of destruction, reddening her streams with the 
 blood of her chosen sons, and leaving her 
 maimed and exhausted, her pride and her 
 power crushed in a common ruin. Up to the 
 1st of April, 1865, she had withstood, or driven 
 back, or only partially yielded before, the 
 furious onsets of the Union forces led succes 
 sively by McDowell, McClellan, Pope, Burn- 
 side, Hooker, and Meade. But now Grant, 
 with a more dogged persistency of purpose, 
 was pushing a cordon of impregnable force 
 about the shattered remnants of the once 
 proud Army of Northern Virginia, and nine 
 days, only, served to crush them completely. 
 
 Lee s forces at this time numbered on paper 
 one hundred and sixty thousand men, but really 
 he had only about fifty thousand effective 
 troops. Still they had a marvellous energy of 
 despair, and, though poorly clothed and fed, 
 they were sustained by the brilliant record 
 which their army had made; and Lee still 
 hoped to prolong the war till terms more 
 favorable to the Confederacy could be extorted 
 from the Federal government. 
 
 To this end there was but one course open 
 to him to retreat from Petersburg and Rich 
 mond, and unite with Johnston s army, which 
 was now at Raleigh, and together to attack the 
 separate armies of the Union, or, failing in that, 
 
228 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 to flee into the mountains, and from them to 
 sally forth at favorable opportunities and 
 worry the national government into satisfac 
 tory terms of peace. This course was indeed 
 decided upon, and the line of retreat along the 
 South Side Railroad was fixed, as being very 
 much shorter than any other, and orders were 
 issued to accumulate rations at Amelia Court 
 House, which was to be the first base of sup 
 plies for the new movement. But Grant s left 
 was already threatening this line of retreat. 
 So Lee resorted to a demonstration against the 
 Union right in order to compel Grant to with 
 draw his left. But though in a fierce and 
 swift assault the Confederates carried the first 
 line of works and captured Fort Stedman 
 near City Point, they had neither the impetus 
 to push on to the second line nor the strength 
 to hold the first; and they lost in this action 
 five thousand effectives which they could by 
 no means afford to spare, and they relaxed not 
 by one iota the grip which Grant was gaining 
 on their line of retreat. 
 
 On the 24th of March, 1865, the day before 
 this last offensive movement of Lee, Grant had 
 issued orders for a movement, by the left, on 
 the 2pth, and on that morning at three o clock 
 the movement began. Our cavalry from the 
 Shenandoah, now united with our comrades 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 229 
 
 of the Second Division under General Crook, 
 which had been serving since the previous 
 August with the Army of the Potomac, entered 
 upon this campaign as a separate army, re 
 porting directly to General Grant. This ar 
 rangement had been made by Grant in the way 
 of a reward to Sheridan for voluntarily yielding 
 up his independence as a department com 
 mander. Our line of march was first south 
 ward towards Reams station on the Weldon 
 Railroad and then westward towards Din- 
 widdie Court House, with instructions to de 
 stroy the two main roads now left for the supply 
 of Lee s army the Danville and the South 
 Side Railroads. But before night, a carrier 
 from Grant countermanded the order to cut 
 the railroads, and directed Sheridan to follow 
 his own strongly expressed desire to "push 
 around the enemy and get upon his right rear"; 
 and the message declared also in characteristic 
 terms, "I now feel like ending the matter." 
 Grant accordingly began to move the in 
 fantry in the direction we had taken. The 
 Second Corps under General Humphreys, leav 
 ing their intrenchments on the extreme left 
 of Grant s fortified line, crossed Hatchers 
 Run by the Vaughan Road, and then marched 
 in a northwesterly direction through the woods 
 and marshes towards the enemy s fortified line 
 
230 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 along the White Oak Road. Following the 
 Second Corps, the Fifth, under General Warren, 
 crossed Hatchers Run four miles farther down, 
 and marched by the Stage Road towards 
 Dinwiddie as far as the Quaker Road, when it 
 turned northward and crossed Gravelly Run 
 in order to put itself on the left of the Second 
 Corps. Meanwhile, the place of these two 
 corps had been supplied from the north side 
 of the James by General Ord with two divisions 
 of the Twenty-fourth Corps, Major General 
 Gibbon commanding, and one division of the 
 Twenty-fifth Corps, Brigadier General Birney 
 commanding, and also by Mackenzie s cavalry. 
 Thus on the night of March 29th there was a 
 continuous line of infantry from Gravelly Run 
 to Petersburg, Warren commanding the extreme 
 left, and the other corps commanders to the 
 right being Humphreys, Ord, Wright, and 
 Parke, with Weitzel commanding the remnant 
 of the Army of the James north of that river. 
 As this new extension of the army to the left 
 advanced beyond Gravelly Run, Griffin s divi 
 sion of Warren s corps came upon the enemy 
 at the site of Dabney s saw-mill, and a warm 
 engagement ensued, in which the Confederates 
 were driven back with a loss of several hun 
 dred as far as the junction of the Quaker Road 
 with the Boydton Plank Road. Here darkness 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 231 
 
 stopped farther advance; but the next day 
 the 30th although a heavy rain was falling 
 continuously, Griffin s division was still farther 
 advanced with heavy skirmishing till the 
 enemy were driven within their breastworks 
 near Burgess Mill; and at the same time, 
 Ayres division was pushed forward along the 
 Claiborne Road to the White Oak Road near 
 Mrs. Butler s. 
 
 By reason of the fearful state of the roads, 
 the next day March 3ist would have passed 
 without any forward movement of the infantry. 
 But Lee, with an audacity born of desperation, 
 was already, without our knowledge, taking the 
 initiative, and had detached every man he 
 could spare from the trenches about Peters 
 burg and was even now massing fifteen thou 
 sand men upon his extreme right to drive back 
 the Union left; and on the morning of the 3 1st 
 he made a furious attack upon the advanced 
 position of the Second and Fifth Corps, at 
 first driving them back in confusion almost to 
 the Boydton Plank Road; but here our line 
 rallied, and again drove the enemy back into 
 his intrenchments. 
 
 In this desperate action my friend and class 
 mate Charles J. Mills was killed. He was 
 serving on the staff of General Humphreys, 
 and had just written home this frank confes- 
 
232 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 sion: "To die for one s country is all very 
 well, but it is a contingency to be avoided if 
 possible; and the more battles one goes through, 
 the less inclined one is to come to grief." Still 
 he kept up his manly courage, and blenched 
 not at any danger. A solid shot struck him 
 from his horse and he died instantly. 
 
 While affairs thus passed with the infantry, 
 our cavalry under Sheridan had swept round 
 in a wider curve past Reams station, as I 
 have said, and across Rowanty Creek where 
 the bridge having been destroyed by the enemy 
 some of the Maine cavalry dismounted and 
 took up the axe which they had been accus 
 tomed to swing so deftly in their native forests, 
 and very quickly knocked together a bridge 
 upon which we crossed by fours. While we 
 were waiting for the bridge to be built, I saw 
 a cavalryman, more venturesome than the 
 rest, try to cross. He was deceived by there 
 being very little water in the stream. There 
 had not been rain for several days. But the 
 treacherous mud was there, and his horse 
 plunged into it, and with every struggle sank 
 deeper and deeper into the slime till nothing 
 but his ears were visible, and his rider was 
 barely rescued from being buried alive. 
 
 After crossing the Rowanty, our column 
 pressed on rapidly, having learned that the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 233 
 
 Confederate cavalry under Generals W. H. F. 
 Lee and Rosser were south of us marching on 
 parallel roads to secure if possible Dinwiddie 
 Court House. But our advance entered it 
 first, reaching it at five o clock, and so gained 
 and held a point of great strategic importance, 
 as the intersection of four roads Flatfoot run 
 ning south, Vaughan running east, Boydton 
 running northeast and southwest, and Five 
 Forks running north along which the enemy s 
 cavalry might have reached the rear of Warren s 
 corps in its present position across the Boydton 
 Road, or upon which Sheridan might get out 
 to destroy the Danville and South Side Rail 
 roads, or, on the other hand, strike Lee s right 
 flank at Five Forks. Sheridan s first move was 
 to send Gregg s brigade down the Boydton 
 Plank Road to destroy the bridge over Stony 
 Creek, and thus compel the Confederate 
 cavalry, which was threatening our flank and 
 rear, to keep off, and to make a wide detour 
 beyond Chamberlain Creek before they could 
 form a junction with the Confederate infantry. 
 So matters stood the night of the 29th, 
 which was one of the most dismal imaginable. 
 The rain began to fall early in the evening, 
 and was soon pouring down in sheets. We 
 had no tents, and very little supper. Our 
 supply train was stuck in the mud and scattered 
 
234 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 all the way from Malons Crossing of Rowanty 
 Creek to the Jerusalem Plank Road. Every 
 field became a pool, and every road a quag 
 mire. But with fence-rails under us, and rub 
 ber ponchos over us, we managed to get a little 
 sleep. 
 
 The next morning, March 3Oth, although 
 the rain was still falling, and our horses were 
 deeply mired in the swamps and quicksands, 
 Sheridan ordered Merritt to send Devin s 
 division on a reconnoissance to Five Forks, 
 and to feel the enemy s position. My regi 
 ment happened that morning to have the 
 advance, and we had hardly left our camp, 
 before we came upon the enemy s cavalry, 
 and charging upon them drove them back in 
 confusion as far as the White Oak Road. Here 
 our skirmishers, under Captain Kuhls, re 
 bounded from a deadly fire of infantry from 
 behind the Confederate earthworks. We had 
 unconsciously struck Lee s new fortified line. 
 But still, thinking the earthworks might be 
 thinly manned, our regiment, led by Colonel 
 Crowninshield, formed a compact line of 
 battle, and made a gallant charge; only, how 
 ever, to be hurled back again by a bristling line 
 of fire. 
 
 Here, Captain Kuhls, an enthusiastic, hot- 
 blooded German, .who seemed crazed by the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 235 
 
 excitement of the onset, refused to quail before 
 that belching blaze of death, and I could see 
 him as, without a follower, he galloped his 
 horse defiantly up to and over the breastworks, 
 utterly oblivious of the fact that alone he was 
 charging upon Pickett s division of ten thou 
 sand veteran infantry. I think that his dar 
 ing must have struck such amazement into the 
 enemy that they refrained from shooting him 
 at such close range; for the mad Captain 
 escaped with his life, though we never saw 
 him more. I have heard that he died in 1883 
 in Idaho. At this juncture the Sixth Pennsyl 
 vania Cavalry came to our support, and, with 
 them on our left, we formed a line of defence 
 along Chamberlain Run, near where it crosses 
 the White Oak Road, and held this position 
 till the next day. 
 
 While we had thus been busy through the 
 day, Sheridan was busy in the effort to per 
 suade Grant not to delay the movement of the 
 infantry, as he was feeling compelled to do by 
 reason of the rain and the mud. Grant had 
 written to Sheridan that morning, saying that 
 it seemed "impossible to do much." But 
 Sheridan had already set his own troops in 
 motion, and was greatly troubled lest any ad 
 vantage he might gain should be lost for lack of 
 support. So, with his impetuous spirit, he 
 
236 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 resolved to appeal to Grant in person. Mount 
 ing his powerful gray pacer, Breckenridge, he 
 struggled mile after mile through the mud to 
 Grant s headquarters on the Vaughan Road 
 south of Gravelly Run. Grant had been so 
 beset with complaints of the difficulties in the 
 way of moving the trains and other impedi 
 menta of the army, that, though it was against 
 his wishes, he had consented to delay. But 
 Sheridan s earnest confidence soon brought 
 him to his better judgment, and he said, "We 
 will go on." Sheridan then hurried back and 
 made his dispositions to attack on the morrow. 
 He knew, by our reconnoissance, that the 
 enemy meant to hold the White Oak Road, 
 and he learned by his scouts that Fitzhugh 
 Lee s cavalry and five brigades of infantry 
 under Pickett and Johnson had joined the 
 forces threatening his front and left flank. 
 Feeling the immense importance of Five Forks 
 as a strategic position, he gave directions, early 
 on the morning of the 3ist, that Merritt should, 
 with two brigades of Devin s division and 
 Davies brigade of Crook s division, pass 
 through the line that we of the Second Massa 
 chusetts and Sixth Pennsylvania had been 
 holding, and try to gain the White Oak Road, 
 while Crook, with his other two brigades under 
 Smith and Gregg, was ordered to turn to the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 237 
 
 left and watch the crossings of Chamberlain 
 Creek, on the opposite side of which the cavalry 
 divisions of W. H. F. Lee and Rosser had been 
 seen the day before. Merritt succeeded this 
 time in reaching the White Oak Road, and 
 captured the coveted position at Five Forks; 
 for the intrenchments were thinly manned at 
 that point, as the enemy s infantry were now 
 concentrated farther to the right in the attempt 
 of Lee, which I have already described, to drive 
 back the advance of Warren and Humphreys. 
 But our cavalry could not hold the Forks long; 
 for Lee, failing in his attempt to drive back 
 our infantry, and appreciating the necessity of 
 holding Five Forks, sent, back the infantry 
 under Pickett, who soon, though not without 
 stubborn resistance, dislodged our troopers 
 from the crossroads. At the same time, the 
 Confederate cavalry made a desperate attempt 
 to force the crossing of Fitzgerald s Ford on 
 Chamberlain Creek, but were driven back by 
 Smith s brigade. They then attempted to 
 cross farther up where Davies brigade was 
 posted; and here, aided by infantry from Five 
 Forks, they succeeded, and pressed back our 
 thin line till they broke it and crowded Davies 
 troops against Devin s left flank, which itself 
 had been pushed back by the Confederate 
 infantry nearly to the place where the Forks 
 
238 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Road branches, about half-way to Dinwiddie. 
 This break in the line separated Devin and 
 Davies from the rest of our cavalry, and left 
 them no recourse but to retreat, and by the 
 Boydton Plank Road rejoin the main body at 
 Dinwiddie. When Devin began to execute this 
 movement, the Confederates set upon him 
 with all possible vigor, and thought to cut him 
 off utterly; but in following him they exposed 
 their own flank to Sheridan s advance, now held 
 by the Reserve Brigade, to which my regiment 
 belonged; and we were ordered to charge upon 
 them at once, while Gregg, who had been sent 
 to our assistance, assaulted their rear. This 
 unlooked-for sally compelled the Confederates 
 to give up the pursuit of Devin, and to face 
 about by the rear rank to defend themselves. 
 As soon as they had re-formed their lines, they 
 again pressed forward towards us, and with 
 ranks reinforced by infantry from -Five Forks. 
 Sheridan, perceiving now that he would have a 
 difficult task even to hold his own against this 
 overwhelming force, sent off rapid riders to 
 General Custer, who had been laboring all day 
 in the rear to bring the supply trains over the 
 bottomless bogs at Malons Crossing, and or 
 dered him to take two brigades and come with 
 all haste to the front. The Confederate in 
 fantry now before us were not accustomed to 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 239 
 
 be delayed in their advance by cavalry. They 
 were the flower of the Army of Northern Vir 
 ginia, and were led by one of its best fighting 
 Generals Pickett. They seemed to us utterly 
 reckless of death. In the face of our severest 
 fire they would swoop down upon us across an 
 open field with such a careless swing, it seemed 
 as if they enjoyed being on the skirmish line, 
 and we suspected that they had such a miserable 
 time of it in camp that they preferred standing 
 up to be shot at. Ours was now the toughest 
 task of the day, to hold them at bay till we 
 could be reinforced. To accomplish this most 
 effectually, three of every four of our men dis 
 mounted, the fourth leading the three riderless 
 horses to the rear. A cavalryman feels some 
 what lost fighting on his legs, but our men 
 formed as broad a line as they could with their 
 small numbers, and, though armed with short- 
 range carbines, they were able, by deliberate 
 aim and quick discharges, to make the Con 
 federate advance exceedingly slow, and to give 
 Sheridan time to make a new line of defence in 
 our rear. It was now nearly dusk, and we 
 could not hold out much longer against the 
 long-range rifles and heavy columns of the Con 
 federate infantry; for, though our Spencer 
 carbines were puffing out shots like flashing 
 stars from a Roman candle, the enemy s onset 
 
240 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 was in a heavier line of more fatal flame, and we 
 were yielding step by step, when up dashed 
 Custer on a gallop with Capehart s brigade 
 taken from the guard of the belated wagon- 
 train. One of these troopers was Wilmon W. 
 Blackmar, then a lieutenant and on the eve of 
 winning a "medal of honor," afterwards one 
 of the most honored citizens of Massachusetts. 
 Custer at once set his band to playing his favor 
 ite charging tune, "Garry Owen," in order to in 
 spire us at the front, and to strike terror into 
 Confederate hearts. Then he dismounted his 
 troopers, and set them to gathering fence rails 
 to make a temporary breastwork. We caught 
 the favorable omen, and held on a little more 
 courageously to our advance line. But more in 
 spiring than martial music was the presence of 
 Sheridan, as he now appeared on the field at 
 the critical moment, as was his wont, and with 
 Custer and Merritt, and his own glittering 
 staff, dashed at a gallop with flying colors and 
 clanging sabres along the front of battle be 
 tween the skirmish line which our brigade was 
 slowly drawing in and the rail barricade which 
 Custer s men were putting up; and with waving 
 hats and resounding hurrahs they cheered us 
 again and again, while the band played "Hail, 
 Columbia," all together raising our spirits to 
 the highest enthusiasm, and making us almost 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 241 
 
 unmindful of the air thick with the missives 
 of death. It was the very intoxication of 
 battle, and it reveals the secret of much of 
 Sheridan s brilliant success; for his own dashing 
 bravery inspired his men with confidence, and 
 made them fearless in the extremest perils. 
 This daring ride of Sheridan drew an increasing 
 blaze of musketry along the enemy s advancing 
 line, and it emptied several saddles of the 
 dashing cavalcade; and it wounded Theodore 
 Wilson, a too venturesome reporter of the New 
 York Herald, an incident which Sheridan long 
 years after recalled to me with some glee, as he 
 felt that the reporter was out of place. But our 
 brigade had the worst of the fire, for we were 
 nearer the jaws of death. It was the hottest 
 fire I was ever in, and it was the harder for me 
 to face, as I had no definite place to hold, and no 
 specific instructions to fulfil. Wherever I stood 
 it seemed as if I ought to be somewhere else. 
 Many of our men fell, and it was with difficulty 
 that I could help even a few of the wounded off 
 the field. Contesting every inch of ground, our 
 advance line was steadily withdrawn by our 
 commanders Gibbs and Gregg, till they took up 
 and held a new line resting on the Boydton 
 Plank Road with Pennington s brigade at their 
 left, and beyond his, Capehart s and then 
 Smith s, all together forming an unbroken 
 
242 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 defence in a semicircle covering Dinwiddie. 
 The chief force of Pickett s last desperate on 
 slaught, that night, was thrown over the open 
 field from which our skirmish line was just with 
 drawn. It was made with heavy columns of 
 infantry greatly outnumbering our thin lines of 
 defence. Custer s men, behind the barricades, 
 waited until the enemy came within close range, 
 and then poured upon them from their repeating 
 rifles such a hot fire that they recoiled in dismay; 
 and for that night, at least, Dinwiddie was safe. 
 But what a night! "Confusion worse con 
 founded!" Blackness like Erebus! Roads like 
 a "boggy Syrtis, neither sea nor good dry 
 land"! Nothing can exceed the stickiness of 
 the clayey soil of Virginia on the breaking up 
 of winter. Our horses, almost exhausted for 
 lack of food after their life-and-death exertions, 
 toiled along but slowly through the mud. The 
 vicissitudes of battle waged chiefly in the 
 woods and much of it after dusk separated 
 men from their companies and officers from 
 their commands. And no quiet came even 
 with the thick darkness. For above all the 
 frequent shouting by bewildered wanderers, 
 "What regiment is this?" arose the screams of 
 the drivers urging their struggling teams to 
 the front, that we and our horses might have 
 something to eat the next morning. And yet 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 243 
 
 in that blackest of nights, order must be 
 brought out of all this chaos, that we might 
 be ready to oppose a compact front to the 
 expected advance of the enemy in the morning. 
 
 I worked till midnight getting the wounded 
 to the hospital. One of these was Captain 
 Papanti of my regiment, whom I supported on 
 his horse for nearly four miles, that he might 
 have a safe resting-place. By one of those 
 peculiar chances that seem like humors of fate, 
 this son of a dancing-master was wounded 
 through both feet, and some one said face 
 tiously, "I guess his dancing days are over." 
 But he recovered, and for many years con 
 ducted one of the most fashionable schools of 
 dancing in Boston. But that night things 
 looked a little dubious about his pedals, and it 
 was with great difficulty that I got him to the 
 hospital. 
 
 Early that evening Sheridan sent this word 
 to Grant: "We have been fighting all day with 
 Pickett s infantry, and with Fitzhugh Lee s, 
 Rosser s, and W. H. F. Lee s cavalry. Our men 
 have behaved splendidly, but this force is too 
 strong for us. I will hold on to Dinwiddie till 
 I am compelled to leave." Grant had already 
 suspected our perilous position, and had ordered 
 Warren to come to our support immediately 
 with the Fifth Corps, and sent word to Sheri- 
 
244 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 dan that they would probably reach him at 
 midnight; but Warren was very slow in start 
 ing, and none of his infantry appeared till late 
 the next morning after our cavalry had already 
 been engaged several hours and had driven the 
 enemy a long way towards Five Forks. This 
 was a great disappointment to Sheridan, and 
 it was the first great provocation he received 
 in Warren s seeming lack of heartiness in his 
 support. At 10.15 P.M., March 3ist, Grant 
 gave the order to Warren to attack Pickett in 
 the rear the next morning, and he might easily 
 have done so by coming in on the Crump Road 
 any time that night with the division which 
 he had already posted at Dr. Boisseau s. Sheri 
 dan waited till 3 A.M., April 1st, and then, as 
 no sign of the Fifth Corps appeared, he sent an 
 urgent order to Warren to attack Pickett s 
 rear at daylight. Our cavalry was up betimes, 
 and began to press Pickett back, as it was 
 hoped, upon Warren s infantry; but we drove 
 the enemy long past where he could be taken 
 in the rear, before any of the Fifth Corps 
 appeared; and so Sheridan lost the coveted 
 opportunity to cut off Pickett s force before it 
 could get behind its intrenchments on the 
 White Oak Road. In this emergency Sheri 
 dan, though greatly annoyed, lost not heart, 
 but shifted his plans, and as soon as the Fifth 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 245 
 
 Corps came up, halted them at J. Boisseau s, 
 where the Five Forks Road branches, and set 
 out with the cavalry alone to drive the enemy 
 to a standstill; meaning then to make a feint 
 to turn their right flank, while he should quietly 
 move up the Fifth Corps to attack their left 
 flank and if possible drive them westward, 
 and so isolate them from the rest of Lee s 
 army, whose right flank was only three miles 
 away near the Butler House at the junction 
 of the Claiborne and White Oak Roads. Sheri 
 dan accomplished the first part of this plan 
 by two o clock with Merritt s dismounted 
 cavalrymen, Custer with spirited charges push 
 ing the enemy back along the Scott Road, and 
 Devin with equal persistency driving them 
 along the Boisseau Road to Five Forks. The 
 Confederates hotly disputed every inch of the 
 ground, and were dislodged with great difficulty 
 from two temporary lines of defence. Their 
 musketry fire seemed absolutely continuous. 
 A lieutenant of my regiment, Huntington F. 
 Wolcott (brother of Gov. Roger Wolcott), was 
 sent forward by General Gibbs, commander of 
 our Reserve Brigade, to advance the skirmish 
 line, and found many giving way before the 
 terrible fire, but he did rally them though he 
 was compelled to draw his sabre upon some of 
 them to drive them back. He said, "The 
 
246 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Rebel bullets seemed to strike everywhere." 
 Thus this boy of nineteen, tenderly reared, 
 who had never left his home till he could no 
 longer refuse his country s call, who joined us 
 only three days before, and who was now for 
 the first time under fire, with a noble scorn 
 of death, was humbly doing his duty, and 
 teaching greybeards the way of heroism and 
 self-sacrifice. His first battle was his last. 
 His young life was laid on his country s altar. 
 The sacrifice was accepted. O precious offering! 
 
 "We cannot say thy life was short, 
 For noble death is length of days." 
 
 "Thy youth was soon perfected." 
 
 "Being made perfect in a short time, thou didst fulfil 
 a long time." 
 
 Soldier, farewell ! (Note 13. 
 
 I spent nearly all the day dismounted, 
 following as best I could through the thick 
 woods the line of our advancing brigade, and 
 helping wounded men from the front to the 
 ambulances which came up as far as where 
 the Five Forks Road meets the Gravelly Run 
 Church Road. But even here the ambulances 
 were only just beyond the range of the enemy s 
 fire. It was the twenty-seventh anniversary of 
 my birth, and though the noise of battle hurtled 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 247 
 
 in the air, I snatched one moment to write to 
 my home a word of loving remembrance, and 
 happy farewell if I should not see it again, 
 and then hurried off once more to my sad work. 
 Soon I came upon one of our brigade, a 
 wounded captain of the Fifth United States 
 Cavalry. We wrapped him like the rest, in a 
 blanket, and bore him toward the rear to get 
 out of the range of the musketry. But oh, 
 it was sad to see the struggling of that soul, 
 tossed as it was by a tempest of doubt and 
 fear! While yet we were bearing him along, 
 I could see by his ejaculations that he was 
 trembling with apprehension before the awful 
 mystery of death and expected judgment. His 
 conception of God was evidently of a being 
 terrible in wrath, inexorable to entreaty, arbi 
 trary in his judgments, and unmoved by any 
 thing akin to human pity; and he dreaded to 
 come into such a presence. His faithful men 
 who were carrying him so tenderly tried to 
 comfort him by telling him he would probably 
 get well from his wound; but he was already 
 grappling with death, and their suggestions of 
 earthly hope were as idle words, and he said, 
 "I wish I could see a chaplain." I did not 
 yet reveal myself to him, for we were still 
 amid the noise and confusion of the battle. 
 When we came to the ambulance-station we 
 
248 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 laid him down upon the ground and the sur 
 geon bent over him to bind up his wounds; 
 but the captain was more anxious about his 
 soul than about his body, and said to the 
 surgeon, "I wish you would send for a chap 
 lain." Then I revealed myself, and told him 
 that I had been with him all the time, and 
 spoke a few words of good cheer. And he 
 said, "Chaplain, I wish you would pray with 
 me." Then I knelt and with his hand in 
 mine I prayed, thanking God that he had put 
 it into the heart of his young servant to give 
 himself to his country, and that He had sus 
 tained him through so many hardships and 
 trials, and now in this last, greatest trial I 
 prayed that God would still sustain and cheer 
 him, and lead him gently through the valley 
 of the death-shadow to the bright regions of 
 heavenly peace. As I finished he said, "Chap 
 lain, I have been a bad man, a very bad man; 
 but do you think God will be merciful?" I 
 said, "Are you willing to die for your country?" 
 He answered: "Oh, yes! I am willing." 
 Then out of the fulness of my faith, and the 
 sure prophecy in my soul that God was a God 
 of mercy, I said, "With such sacrifices God is 
 well pleased, and they will cover a multitude 
 of sins." This thought seemed to give him 
 some foundation for a brighter faith. For 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 249 
 
 though faith have wings like a dove, it yet 
 needs some solid ground to stand upon, as the 
 dove let loose from the ark soon returned be 
 cause it found no place to rest its feet. But 
 this soldier s trembling faith found a sure 
 support in the thought that he had done one 
 thing at least, had made one sacrifice, which 
 the great God, whom before he had known 
 only to fear, would accept as a fitting service. 
 Then I repeated the Twenty-third Psalm 
 "The Lord is my shepherd," and at its close 
 said, "It is sweet and pleasant to die for one s 
 country." Upon the word his face lit up with 
 an almost unearthly brightness, as he felt the 
 uplifting glory of a willing sacrifice, and he 
 exultantly repeated the old motto in the Latin 
 original " Dulce et decorum est pro patria 
 mori" a line which he had probably translated 
 as a task at school, but which now he was 
 translating eagerly into immortal life. 
 
 The captain was now quite calm, and per 
 mitted the doctor to dress his wound. Then 
 he bade an affectionate farewell to his men, 
 who, he said, had always been faithful to him; 
 and we lifted him into an ambulance. As I 
 was about to depart, he said, "I wish you would 
 stay with me a little longer; I shall not need 
 you long." Then as I sat alone with him in 
 the ambulance he said, "I wish you would 
 
250 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 administer to me the sacrament." I answered: 
 "There is no need of a sacrament. The sacri 
 fices of God are a broken spirit." And again 
 he caught the inspiration of the thought, and 
 took the words from my lips, and continued 
 "a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou 
 wilt not despise." Then again he was calm, 
 and gave me messages for his wife and little 
 ones. He would have his sabre given to his boy; 
 and if, when he grew up, his country should 
 have need of his services, he would have him 
 to be a soldier too. He gave me his two 
 rings, one for his wife, the other for his little 
 girl. He said they would know which was for 
 each. Then I took him by the hand and bade 
 him "Good-bye, keep up good courage," and 
 his last, brave words were, "Tell them I was 
 willing to die for my country." 
 
 But we must hasten again to the front to see 
 how fares the battle. About I P.M. Merritt s 
 two divisions of dismounted carbineers, under 
 Custer and Devin, had succeeded by resolute 
 advances in driving in Pickett s whole skirmish 
 line, and so had shut the Confederates within 
 their intrenchments along the White Oak 
 Road. It will remain a wonder to the end of 
 time that this could have been done by less 
 than six thousand cavalry against sixteen 
 thousand of the flower of the Virginia infantry 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 251 
 
 besides two divisions of Confederate cavalry. 
 But the greater task was yet before us, to 
 keep them there till our infantry could be 
 brought up on their flank. This, Sheridan 
 proceeded to do. He first ordered Merritt 
 to keep up a hot fire all along the line, but to 
 demonstrate most heavily on the enemy s 
 right flank, so as to draw his attention away 
 from the intended assault of our infantry upon 
 his left flank. He then ordered Warren to 
 move as promptly as possible on the road to 
 Gravelly Run Church, and there form with 
 Ayres on the left, Crawford on the right, and 
 Griffin behind Crawford in reserve, and then 
 by a left wheel strike the enemy in flank. 
 He at the same time ordered McKenzie s 
 cavalry to protect the right flank of the Fifth 
 Corps as it swung round to the left, and to 
 drive whatever opposing force it found, towards 
 Petersburg, and then countermarch and assist 
 the infantry in its flanking movement. Sheri 
 dan waited as patiently as he could for Warren 
 to bring his corps into action. He had tried 
 to inspire him with something of his own 
 zeal, but Warren was offish, and seemed 
 indifferent. There is no doubt that he was 
 personally brave, and a very able officer; but 
 his cold nature was so different from that of 
 the fiery Sheridan that they not only could 
 
252 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 not assimilate, but they could not understand 
 each other. Grant had noted this, and had, 
 through Colonel Babcock, sent authority to 
 Sheridan to relieve Warren. But Sheridan 
 did not like to do this so near the crisis of the 
 battle, although his patience with Warren was 
 nearly exhausted when after three hours he had 
 moved his troops only two miles and had not 
 yet engaged the enemy. When Sheridan rode 
 round to Gravelly Run Church to see what was 
 the matter, he found Warren sitting under a 
 tree drawing a rough sketch of the ground 
 instead of hurrying his men into the battle 
 along the lines that Sheridan had already 
 marked out. This nettled Sheridan terribly. 
 Yet still he restrained himself from displacing 
 Warren, and resolved to throw his own personal 
 presence into the scale on the side of the 
 infantry, which was now directly on the left 
 flank of the Confederates. In the forward 
 movement, Ayres division was the first to 
 receive the enemy s fire. In fact, it was the 
 only one that faced the enemy s intrenchments, 
 as by a mistake of Crawford his division 
 swerved to the right as soon as it struck Mum- 
 ford s Confederate cavalry, and thus made a 
 gap between him and Ayres; and the enemy 
 at once took advantage of it, and began to 
 overwhelm the exposed right of Ayres division. 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 253 
 
 Sheridan at once perceived the danger, and sent 
 word to Warren to recall Crawford from his 
 too wide detour; but Warren could not be found. 
 Then he sent two messengers to Griffin, who 
 had followed Crawford, directing him to return 
 and succor Ayres. But more important than 
 the aid of either Crawford s or Griffin s division 
 was his own personal presence at this "return" 
 in the enemy s works, which was indeed the 
 key to their position. Sheridan knew that 
 Pickett would fight desperately for the pro 
 tection of this flank towards Petersburg, and 
 had intended, as I have said, that Ayres and 
 Crawford, and Griffin in Crawford s support, 
 and McKenzie guarding the infantry s right 
 flank, should sweep round in unbroken order 
 and overwhelm the enemy s left at this point 
 and cut it off from Petersburg. But instead 
 of that, he had at hand only Ayres division, 
 and that was giving way. Nothing daunted, 
 however, Sheridan threw himself into the 
 battle like a Viking, and, galloping everywhere, 
 soon brought order out of confusion by his 
 magnetic example; and by his fiery enthusiasm, 
 his reckless disregard of danger, and his evident 
 entire belief in victory, he reassured the panic- 
 stricken regiments, and again turned their faces 
 towards the foe. Then, taking his colors into 
 his own hand and waving them in air, he led 
 
254 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 the men on, where the fire was hottest, his 
 eyes glowing like live coals, his face flushed 
 like a flame, his short but stocky form radiat 
 ing defiance. And his superb black charger 
 Rienzi, afterwards named "Winchester," the 
 same that Buchanan Read has immortalized 
 in his poem "Sheridan s Ride," and whose 
 body now stands, stuffed, in the Museum on 
 Governor s Island in New York Harbor, he 
 having died in 1878 in his twentieth year this 
 noble steed caught the inspiration of the fray, 
 and plunged and curvetted, champing his 
 impatient bit, as Sheridan dashed along the 
 lines, drawing from the enemy a blaze of 
 musketry that pierced the colors and wounded 
 several of his staff, but filling the soldiers with 
 such enthusiasm that they made an impetuous 
 charge upon the breastworks and carried them 
 at the point of the bayonet, capturing over 
 a thousand prisoners and many battle-flags. 
 
 At the same time that Sheridan with Ayres 
 division was making this assault on Pickett s 
 left flank, Merritt s dismounted cavalry was 
 making an assault all along the front, and 
 Devin and Custer, at the head of their respec 
 tive divisions, contended for the honor of the 
 first foothold within the enemy s works. On 
 the right of our line, Devin s carbineers with 
 the Reserve Brigade at the right centre carried 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 255 
 
 the intrenchments in front at the same time 
 that Ayres division carried the "return"; and 
 together they drove the enemy back upon 
 Griffin, who, hearing the hot fire, decided, 
 before Sheridan s messengers came up, to turn 
 his brigade from following after Crawford, 
 and made a left wheel across Crawford s rear, 
 and swept into the meshes of his advancing 
 lines more than fifteen hundred Confederates 
 whom we had dislodged from their works. 
 And now Griffin and Ayres with their two 
 divisions of infantry, and Devin with his 
 division of dismounted cavalry, are pressing 
 the remnants of the enemy along the White 
 Oak Road towards Five Forks; and Craw 
 ford s division of infantry and McKenzie s 
 division of cavalry, having reached the Ford 
 Road, are advancing upon the rear of the 
 enemy s line at the Forks. The whole centre 
 of Pickett s position was thus surrounded by 
 an ambuscade of flame, and most of its de 
 fenders threw down their arms and surren 
 dered. A few attempted to make a stand on 
 the Ford Road, but Griffin soon dislodged 
 them, and they fell into the hands of Crawford. 
 After this, only a short stand was made on 
 the Confederate right. Here Custer had fought 
 desperately for hours, holding Terry s and 
 Corse s brigades of Confederate infantry in 
 
256 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 check with Pennington s dismounted brigade 
 of cavalry, and with his other two brigades, 
 Wells and Capehart s, mounted, tackling the 
 whole of W. H. F. Lee s division of cavalry. 
 But he could not move them from their posi 
 tion till Sheridan had begun to sweep down 
 upon them in flank and rear. Then they 
 cleared out, and took up a new position along 
 the west side of the Gillian field. But just at 
 dusk, Custer with the co-operation of a few 
 regiments of infantry drove them from this 
 position, and then there was nothing left but 
 for the cavalry to swoop down upon the dis 
 organized fragments of the Confederate regi 
 ments and gobble up as many prisoners as 
 they could find in the gathering darkness. 
 The trophies of the whole day were six guns, 
 thirteen battle-flags, and nearly six thousand 
 prisoners, while our losses in killed and wounded 
 did not reach one thousand. 
 
 Thus the most important gateway to the 
 stronghold of the Confederacy had been opened 
 by Sheridan in one of the most complete vic 
 tories as well as one of the most hotly con 
 tested battles of the war. It annihilated the 
 right of Lee s projected line of defence and 
 destroyed the last of his communications except 
 the Richmond & Danville Railroad. It was 
 also one of the most skilfully managed battles, 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 257 
 
 both in bold dash and deliberate strategy. 
 Especial credit is due to the cavalry for their 
 part in the brilliant results. It is very much 
 against the spirit and training of a cavalryman 
 to dismount and fight at necessarily great odds 
 with infantry solidly massed against him. Not 
 only is there the disadvantage of the unaccus 
 tomed position and movement, but also the 
 greater disadvantage of the short range of his 
 carbine as compared with the muskets of the 
 infantry. Still, our men counterbalanced all 
 these permanent disadvantages, and the in 
 cidental weariness of long marches and hard 
 fighting for two days before, with a heroic 
 courage and an impetuous valor caught from 
 their admired commanders, and they kept 
 their lines unbroken before the hottest and most 
 continuous musketry fire. We of the First 
 Division felt a thrill of proud satisfaction that 
 our men were first within the enemy s works, 
 as it was announced to the country by Abraham 
 Lincoln in an official bulletin, "The Five Forks, 
 strongly barricaded, were carried by Devin s 
 First Division of Cavalry." 
 
 Although the Confederate defeat seemed to 
 us utterly irretrievable, yet Sheridan feared 
 that Lee would sally out from the right of his 
 fortified line which was only three miles away, 
 and make a desperate attempt to cripple him, 
 
258 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 separated as he was from the Army of the 
 Potomac. Fearing in such an event to depend 
 upon the sluggish support of Warren, Sheridan 
 relieved him of his command and advanced 
 Griffin to his place and directed him to form 
 Ayres and Crawford in line of battle near 
 Gravelly Run Church and facing toward the 
 enemy at the junction of the White Oak and 
 the Claiborne Roads. But Lee had no dis 
 position after this for offensive movements, 
 and Grant looked upon our victory as the be 
 ginning of the end for the Confederacy. The 
 echoes of the musketry fire at Five Forks had 
 hardly died away before there began a general 
 bombardment along the Petersburg lines of 
 investment, from all the batteries and all the 
 forts and all the gunboats and monitors an 
 unbroken roll of thunder, the death-knell of 
 the Confederacy. This was kept up through 
 the night till four o clock on the morning of 
 April 2d, when a general assault was made 
 along the whole line. Parke on the right with 
 the Ninth Corps carried the first line of in- 
 trenchments, but failed to take the second. 
 Next him, Wright with the Sixth Corps carried 
 everything before him, capturing many arms 
 and about three thousand prisoners. Ord with 
 the Twenty-fourth Corps carried the lines near 
 Hatcher s Run, and Humphreys with the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 259 
 
 Second Corps, the whole right of the enemy s 
 fortified line. But when Grant s lines, con 
 tracting as they came towards Petersburg, 
 reached the inner line of defence, the Confeder 
 ates with desperate courage put a stop to further 
 advance that day, except at the extreme south 
 ern salient below Petersburg, where Fort Gregg 
 was defended by Harris Mississippi Brigade 
 numbering only two hundred and fifty men. 
 This handful of troops with determined valor 
 resisted the surging ranks of assault until they 
 had inflicted a loss of twice their own numbers, 
 and had left themselves only thirty men to 
 be taken prisoners. But the rest of the inner 
 line of defence could not be pierced, and under 
 cover of this resistance and the darkness of 
 the hastening night, Lee gathered together the 
 remnants of his army the Richmond Garrison 
 under Mahone, and Longstreet s corps from 
 the north side of the James, and at break of 
 day April 3d had advanced sixteen miles 
 from Petersburg on the only road still open to 
 him, north of the Appomattox. 
 
 Let us now turn to the cavalry. Tired as 
 we were with the Herculean labors of Saturday, 
 April 1st, shattered as we were by the losses of 
 battle, we yet were started under General 
 Merritt at four o clock Sunday morning, and 
 reached Ford station on the South Side Rail- 
 
200 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 road at ten o clock. Here we found that a 
 division of the Confederates had thrown up 
 intrenchments during the night with the in 
 tention of making a stand. The earth was yet 
 damp on the breastworks as we rode through 
 unchallenged, and ungreeted except by some 
 grinning darkies, almost beside themselves 
 with joy, who shouted, "Dem Rebs is done took 
 out two hours ago!" Then we pressed on to 
 Scotts Corner on Namozine Creek, and about 
 nightfall came up with the rear of the Con 
 federate infantry that had been at 3 P.M. 
 driven from their intrenchments at Suther 
 land station by General Miles and his gallant 
 division, and had taken the river road west 
 ward, leaving behind their artillery and many 
 prisoners. We bagged a good many stragglers, 
 but darkness prevented any decisive assault. 
 
 The next day, Monday, April 3d, the cavalry 
 led the advance towards Deep Creek with 
 occasional skirmishing; but we were chiefly 
 occupied with destroying guns, wagons, forges, 
 caissons, and small arms abandoned by the 
 Confederates in their precipitate flight. Arriv 
 ing at Deep Creek, we encountered a strong 
 body of the enemy s infantry, which Merritt 
 at once attacked and drove from the ford. 
 But darkness again prevented our further 
 advance. 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 261 
 
 At daylight on April 4th we again started in 
 pursuit of those whom we had the night before 
 driven from the ford, and who were hastening 
 to join the main body of Lee s army, which 
 was now heading from the other side of the 
 Appomattox towards Amelia Court House, 
 where Lee had ordered supplies from Lynch- 
 burg and Danville to be ready for his famished 
 men. We caught up with the Confederates at 
 Tabernacle Church, where we had a severe 
 fight with two divisions of their cavalry and 
 one division of their infantry. As we had 
 only one division of cavalry we found it impos 
 sible to break the enemy s lines, which were 
 held with great tenacity as being absolutely 
 essential to the safe passage of the main army 
 of Lee, whose flankers we could now see. Under 
 these circumstances we fell back, crossed 
 Beaver Brook, and let on the water from the 
 dam to prevent the enemy from harassing our 
 rear. [It was here that Major William H. 
 Forbes rejoined us after his five months in 
 prison. I had left him on the boat that had 
 taken us to Fort Sumter to be exchanged, but, 
 sad to tell, he was taken back to prison for lack 
 of some formality in the terms of exchange, 
 and was later taken to Columbia and was 
 paroled from there in December, 1864; but it 
 was not till April 2, 1865, that the formalities 
 
262 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 of exchange were completed and he was al 
 lowed to rejoin his command. He hastened 
 at once to the front and delighted us on April 
 4th by his cheering presence. It was a great 
 joy to him that he could be in with us at the 
 death of the Confederacy.] All we could do 
 now was to annoy and delay Lee s progress, 
 to hang on the flanks of his retreating columns 
 and at times dash in and capture what 
 we could. That day we took hundreds of 
 Confederate stragglers; but at night we re 
 ceived orders from Sheridan to join him at 
 Jetersville station, at which place he had ar 
 rived that evening with the Fifth Corps and 
 Crook s division of cavalry, after a forced 
 march, with the hope of blocking Lee s escape 
 by the Danville Railroad. Sheridan felt that 
 Lee would make a great effort, and might easily 
 break through the thin lines of cavalry which 
 as yet had been disposed in his front facing 
 Amelia Court House; and in order to have 
 sufficient force to block this contemplated 
 advance, he had selected Jetersville as the point 
 to defend, occupied it first with his body-guard 
 (the First United States Cavalry), and at once 
 sent off couriers to gather in the scattered 
 commands of cavalry, and to hurry up the 
 slowly advancing infantry. On receiving the 
 order, we at once set out, marching all night, 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 
 
 thus making thirty-two hours that we had 
 been in the saddle without intermission. In 
 the early morning we took position on the left 
 of Sheridan s line, and breakfasted. 
 
 General Meade received the urgent solicita 
 tion to hasten his advance, just after his men 
 had gone into camp at Deep Creek. Still, 
 appreciating the necessity, he at once issued 
 orders to his army to be ready to march two 
 hours after midnight. 
 
 Thus on the evening of April 4th Sheridan 
 was preparing to dispute the enemy s advance. 
 In a few more hours he could confidently chal 
 lenge Lee with his "Thus far and no farther." 
 These few hours constituted Lee s great op 
 portunity. If he had pushed forward at 
 once he could easily have brushed away the 
 single corps of infantry the Fifth and the 
 single division of cavalry Crook s that alone 
 opposed his path to Danville and a junction 
 with Johnston. But he did not. There was 
 an obstacle in his path harder to overcome than 
 our victorious columns. It was hunger. When 
 Lee determined to evacuate Petersburg, he 
 despatched orders that large supplies of com 
 missary and quartermaster s stores should be 
 sent forward from Danville to Amelia Court 
 House, there to await the arrival of his columns. 
 When, however, on Sunday afternoon the loaded 
 
264 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 trains came in, the officer in charge was met 
 by an order to bring on the train (meaning the 
 empty train) to Richmond to help transport 
 Jeff. Davis and his cabinet with the property 
 of the government. The officer mistaking 
 the intent of the order started at once for 
 Richmond without unloading the cars, and 
 there the supplies were consumed in the general 
 conflagration. This was a severer blow to 
 Lee than a defeat in battle. For, being obliged 
 to halt at Amelia Court House and send out 
 foraging parties into the country round to 
 feed his men, he gave Grant time to bring 
 to Sheridan s succor the rest of the Army 
 of the Potomac and so to cut off Lee s line 
 of retreat. 
 
 At Jetersville, Sheridan intercepted this 
 telegram from Lee s Commissary General: 
 "The army is at Amelia Court House short 
 of provisions. Send 300,000 rations quickly to 
 Burkesville Junction." This telegram was in 
 duplicate, one copy addressed to Danville the 
 other to Lynchburg. They were found in the 
 boots of a messenger who had been sent for 
 ward to telegraph them from Burkesville. 
 Sheridan saved him the trouble, and intrusted 
 them to Young s scouts, who easily persuaded 
 the unsuspecting telegraph agent to forward 
 them, only we planned to eat them ourselves. 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 265 
 
 And we did secure those from Lynchburg, as 
 the sequel will show. 
 
 When on the 5th of April, Sheridan began 
 to suspect, by Lee s not appearing in his front, 
 that he had abandoned the attempt to reach 
 Danville, and might be trying to escape to 
 Lynchburg by making a detour northward, he 
 sent out Davies brigade to Paine s Crossroads 
 to reconnoitre. Davies, who was of the Class 
 of 1856 H. C., found that Sheridan s suspicions 
 were true, for Lee s wagons were already 
 rumbling along the Crossroads in advance of 
 the army. Davies at once set upon them pell- 
 mell, and destroyed more than one hundred 
 and fifty wagons some of them belonging to 
 Lee s headquarters and scooped up nearly a 
 thousand prisoners, including two Confederate 
 generals, with five pieces of artillery and several 
 hundred mules, all of which he started at once 
 towards our camp at Jetersville. Davies found 
 hot work enough to do to protect his small com 
 mand from the hordes of Confederates who set 
 upon him as soon as it became known that he 
 was in their front, but shortly the rest of our 
 cavalry came to his succor and he maintained 
 his ground. Thus passed the 5th of April, 
 with the cavalry, while Meade s infantry were 
 hurrying to reach Jetersville. The Second 
 Corps came up at 3 P.M. and Sheridan wanted 
 
266 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 to attack Lee at once, but Meade wanted to 
 wait till the Sixth Corps should arrive and so 
 the opportunity was lost to end the war then 
 and there. Sheridan was so troubled by this 
 that he sent to Grant couriers urging his 
 personal presence at the front. Grant was 
 then about fifteen miles away with the Army 
 of the James, which was marching towards 
 Burkesville along the South Side Railroad. 
 Leaving orders for General Ord to push on to 
 Burkesville and intrench for the night, Grant 
 started off with a small escort across country 
 for Sheridan s headquarters and reached there 
 a little before midnight. It took but a few 
 minutes to persuade Grant that Meade s sug 
 gested strategy would give Lee his coveted 
 chance to escape. So Grant and Sheridan 
 went together to Meade s headquarters, and 
 he changed his orders at once, and all were 
 prepared in the early morning of April 6th to 
 follow Sheridan s flanking strategy instead of 
 a stern chase. Meade s desires were followed 
 to the extent of returning to him the Fifth 
 Corps, and McKenzie s cavalry was returned 
 to the Army of the James, so Sheridan was 
 left with only the rest of the cavalry. 
 
 On the morning of April 6th, instead of 
 following Meade in a useless advance towards 
 Amelia Court House already deserted in the 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 267 
 
 night by the enemy, Sheridan struck off by 
 the left towards Deatonsville, where we again 
 caught sight of Lee s wagon trains, and Crook s 
 division set upon them as Davies had done the 
 day before, but with very different result. 
 For now Lee was aware of his danger. He 
 knew that he must make a flank march in the 
 face of a vigilant enemy, and so had doubly 
 guarded his trains; and as soon as Crook ad 
 vanced, he was received with a terribly destruc 
 tive fire and hurled back in confusion. Sheri 
 dan thus found that he was not to be allowed 
 to make any more captures without hard fight 
 ing or skilful strategy, but, both being in his 
 line, he at once formed the combinations to 
 accomplish his purpose. 
 
 Leaving Stagg s brigade and Miller s battery 
 about three miles from Deatonsville to threaten 
 Lee s columns as they moved on the road to 
 Rice s station and at any favorable opportunity 
 to break through their line at the point where 
 the road to Rice s station forks with the road 
 to Appomattox River, Sheridan ordered Crook 
 to lead off to the left parallel with the enemy s 
 line of march, and Merritt to follow, and both 
 to seek for some vulnerable point of attack 
 and try to gain the Deatonsville road. Such a 
 point seemed to present itself just south of 
 Sailor s Creek, a small tributary of the Appo- 
 
268 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 mattox. Ouster s division happened to be just 
 opposite this point, and he began to skirmish 
 with the flankers of the Confederate wagon 
 train, and drove them up to the road along 
 which the train was moving. But here his 
 troopers were met by a line of infantry fire, 
 from behind a low stone wall, that made many 
 a rider bite the dust, and sent the whole column 
 staggering back. Custer, however, was not 
 the kind of leader to be balked by a single 
 defeat. As soon as he could form his men 
 again he made the assaulting column more solid 
 by doubling it, and then sent it off up the slope 
 on a gallop. 
 
 There is no more thrilling spectacle than a 
 cavalry charge with drawn sabres, the scabbards 
 clanking against the saddles, the steeds champ 
 ing their foaming bits, the earth thundering 
 beneath their heavy tread, the air alive with 
 gleaming blades and flying colors. Add to this 
 the enthusiasm of the onset rising at times 
 almost to madness, horse and rider sharing 
 and mutually increasing its intoxication up 
 to the point of collision, and you have a scene 
 that is terribly grand. But who shall picture 
 on canvas or portray in words the awful scene 
 which I then witnessed when this advancing 
 array of galloping steeds and fearless riders 
 was hurled back by the belching thunderbolts 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 269 
 
 of war? It is like the proud ocean-wave 
 mounting the shallower shore, and tossing its 
 white crest in confidence of its irresistible 
 might, but as soon as it beats upon the rocky 
 ledges, it is broken and hurled back in forceless 
 foam. So was this second wave of defiant 
 assault broken and flung back in forceless 
 fragments of defeated valor, and the earth was 
 strewn with death. Earlier in the war this 
 second attempt would not have been made. 
 The sacrifice would have been thought too 
 great. Even at this time, by most leaders no 
 third attempt would have been considered. 
 But not so thought Custer or Sheridan. With 
 out a moment s delay Custer asked for the 
 Reserve Brigade in which was my regiment, 
 massed it with his own troops in ranks twice 
 as heavy as before, formed them within a few 
 hundred yards of the enemy s line in solid 
 front across the whole breadth of the open 
 field, and then, drawing his sword and putting 
 spurs to his steed, he dashed along the front of 
 the whole line of serried soldiery, his brown 
 sombrero turning up its broad brim from his 
 bronzed forehead, his long yellow curls floating 
 on the wind, the ends of his crimson cravat 
 flying like tongues of fire over his shoulders, 
 his face aflame with the eager joy of battle. 
 He seemed utterly oblivious to danger and to 
 
270 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 bear a charmed life amid the shower of bullets, 
 and gave us an inspiring example of death- 
 defying valor. Then the bugles sounded 
 "Forward!" the bands struck up "Yankee 
 Doodle," and this third wave of gallant 
 cavaliers swept forward with resistless might 
 and carried everything before it. 
 
 These stirring events, which seem to the 
 younger generation so far away, seem but as 
 yesterday to those who took part in their exciting 
 scenes. To a cavalryman, the sound of the bugle, 
 although heard amid peaceful surroundings, 
 brings back vividly the old thrill of battle under 
 heroic leaders and with faithful companions. 
 
 "In the hush of the calm and peaceful night 
 
 When all is lone and still, 
 I think I hear an old-time strain, 
 
 An echo from the hill; 
 My heart beats fast, my pulses bound, 
 
 Old friends I seem to see; 
 The ringing, singing bugle brings 
 
 The old days back to me." 
 
 The days of grand, heroic souls 
 
 "Crowd back from buried years," 
 And Custer s face again doth flame, 
 
 "And Lowell s name brings tears." 
 "And Bayard, Buford, and the rest" 
 
 All ride again so free 
 "When the ringing, singing bugle brings 
 The old days back to me." 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 271 
 
 "Kilpatrick, daring, gallant soul, 
 
 And Dahlgren s graceful shade, 
 And Sheridan, still in the van" 
 With spirit undismayed: 
 "They ve ridden to the silent night, 
 
 Yet oft their forms I see 
 When the ringing, singing bugle brings 
 The old days back to me." 
 
 [RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE adapted.] 
 
 But let us go back to the field. Devin and 
 Crook, farther to the left, at the same time 
 gained the road, and, swinging round to the 
 right, bagged unnumbered prisoners, captured 
 sixteen pieces of artillery, and destroyed four 
 hundred wagons. Thus our cavalry stood 
 athwart Lee s line of march and separated 
 EwelPs Corps, which was astride Sailors Creek, 
 from Longstreet s Corps, which was waiting 
 at Rice s station. Meanwhile Stagg s brigade 
 and Miller s battery had, by sharp sabre-thrust 
 and the rough rending of solid shot and shell, 
 hewn another gap behind Ewell, between him 
 and Gordon, thus forcing Gordon s corps to 
 turn to the right at the forks towards the 
 Appomattox River, whither it was followed by 
 the Second Corps under General Humphreys. 
 Thus was isolated from the rest of Lee s army, 
 General Ewell with Anderson s, Kershaw s, 
 and Custis Lee s divisions, and they fought 
 
272 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 with the greatest desperation to keep themselves 
 from capture. Anderson s division was ad 
 vanced to some favorable ground and intrenched 
 facing Merritt and Crook in the hope of 
 covering the escape of the other divisions 
 through the woods towards the Appomattox. 
 But Crook, who held our extreme left with two 
 brigades dismounted and one mounted, cut off 
 the possibility of retreat in that direction by 
 overlapping Anderson s right, and, by assault 
 ing at the same time with Merritt, compelled 
 Ewell to stand still in defence. This holding 
 of Ewell by our cavalry gave time for Sheridan 
 to bring up the Sixth Corps a consummation 
 he most devoutly wished. It had been in the 
 Shenandoah Valley his main reliance in sup 
 port of his cavalry, and ever since he joined 
 Grant before Petersburg he had begged to have 
 it assigned to him. It now went in under 
 Sheridan with its old alacrity, and to meet it 
 Ewell faced about Kershaw s and Custis Lee s 
 divisions, leaving Anderson to hold back our 
 cavalry. The Confederates, thus hemmed in, 
 fought like fiends. Seymour s division of the 
 Sixth Corps was for a time checked and pushed 
 back, but, Getty s division coming up, again 
 drove the enemy, and at all other points they 
 had already given way. This was not, how 
 ever, known to Ewell till he caught sight of 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 273 
 
 his burning supply trains, and saw the drawn 
 sabres of our cavalry men issuing out of the 
 woods from which Anderson s corps had been 
 driven by Merritt and Crook. So, beset in 
 front, left flank, and rear, Ewell, after a short 
 but heroic defence, gives up his sword to 
 Sheridan, and surrenders his whole corps of 
 more than nine thousand men. On one of 
 the captured wagons was found the inscrip 
 tion, "We uns has found the last ditch." And 
 Ewell must have thought so, although he said 
 little; he only begged Sheridan to send a flag 
 of truce to Lee to demand his surrender in 
 order to save any further useless sacrifice of 
 precious lives. Sheridan wrote at once to 
 Grant "Up to this time, we have captured 
 Generals Ewell, Kershaw, Barton, Defoe, Corse 
 and Custis Lee. If the thing is pressed, I think 
 Lee will surrender." 
 
 After the battle, which continued till dusk, 
 our division under Devin was pushed on for 
 more than two miles through the woods in 
 pursuit of the remnants of Anderson s corps, 
 which had fled in a disorganized mass towards 
 the Appomattox. But it was too dark to bag 
 many more that night, and we dismounted and 
 lay down overwearied and went to sleep at 
 our horses feet, holding the bridle-reins in our 
 hands. Soon a terrible explosion awoke us, 
 
274 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 and we discovered a hostile battery in position 
 only a few hundred yards away shelling with 
 "spherical case" the woods in which we were 
 encamped; but they were giving us only a few 
 parting shots, and we turned over and soon 
 were asleep again. 
 
 This battle of Sailors Creek, so desperately 
 contested by Ewell, so sharply and successfully 
 fought by Sheridan, not only eventuated in the 
 capture of Ewell s corps, but compelled Long- 
 street s column in his front and Gordon s column 
 in his rear to give up all hope of escape to 
 Danville. Longstreet s column took the road 
 from Rice s station to High Bridge closely 
 followed by detachments from the Army of 
 the James, and Gordon s column took the road 
 to the Appomattox closely followed by the 
 Second Corps. 
 
 While Sheridan was thus cutting out a large 
 section of Lee s retreating army, its advance 
 was approaching High Bridge over the Appo 
 mattox, meaning to follow the railroad to 
 Farmville, where Lee could feed his army with 
 supplies from Lynchburg and then make that 
 fortified city his centre of defence, or, failing 
 in that, to escape into the mountains. But 
 as the advance guard of Confederate cavalry 
 approached High Bridge, what was their sur 
 prise to find a squadron of Union cavalry and 
 
CAPT. FRANCIS WASHBURN 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 275 
 
 a line of infantry disputing their passage! 
 Lee could not think it a large force, still he 
 began to make dispositions for a serious attack; 
 but before his lines were fully formed, the 
 squadron of cavalry charged and broke through 
 his first line, and was only stopped by a second 
 and stronger line posted in the edge of the 
 woods where our men could not effectively use 
 the sabre. This squadron of horse which thus 
 defiantly threw down the gage of battle before 
 two divisions of Confederate cavalry, under 
 Rosser and Fitzhugh Lee, was a part of a 
 single battalion of the Fourth Massachusetts 
 Cavalry numbering only 12 officers and 67 
 men under command of Col. Francis Wash- 
 burn of Worcester, of the Class of 1859 Law 
 rence Scientific School. He had lately been 
 promoted from a captaincy in my regiment, 
 where he had proved one of the best officers 
 of the line. He had been sent forward with 
 his squadron and 800 infantry from Burkes- 
 ville by General Ord of the Army of the James 
 to destroy High Bridge. But before he could 
 execute the order, General Ord, learning of 
 Lee s advance, sent Col. Theodore Read with 
 80 cavalrymen to bring him back. To return 
 was then impossible without cutting their way 
 through Lee s advancing lines. Colonel Read 
 was killed in the first charge; but Washburn, 
 
276 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 undiscouraged at the first vain attempt to 
 drive back the cavalry in his front, made 
 another impetuous charge, and this time broke 
 through the enemy s line, and might have 
 made his escape back to Burkesville, but he 
 would not desert the infantry, who were now 
 completely surrounded by the swarming Con 
 federate troopers. Accordingly he made his 
 third charge; and in this, while crossing sabres 
 with a Confederate officer whom he had nearly 
 disarmed, he was shot in the head by another, 
 and after he had fallen received a sabre-cut on 
 the skull. Both General Grant and General 
 Ord bore testimony to his heroic daring, and 
 I am proud to have known him as a fellow- 
 officer and a friend. In this engagement eight 
 out of twelve of his officers were disabled, and 
 the rest were completely surrounded; but, says 
 an officer on Lee s staff, "to the sharpness of 
 that fight, the cutting off of Lee s army at 
 Appomattox was probably owing. So fierce 
 were the charges of Colonel Washburn and his 
 men that General Lee although at first sup 
 posing it was a small force concluded that 
 they must be supported by a large part of the 
 army," and so stopped to throw up a line of 
 breastworks, and ordered three trains of pro 
 visions, forage, and clothing, which had been 
 sent from Lynchburg over the South Side 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 277 
 
 Railroad, to be sent back to prevent them from 
 falling into our hands. Thus his army was 
 deprived of the supplies from the want of 
 which they were already nearly exhausted. 
 And besides, this delay of Lee s advance gave 
 time for Ord to come up with the Twenty- 
 fourth Corps of Infantry, and so to cut off the 
 last possible chance for Lee to escape south 
 ward to Danville, and compelled him to make 
 another detour northward and westward. 
 
 The sufferings of Lee s retreating army at 
 this time can be compared to nothing in the 
 annals of history, unless perhaps to the retreat 
 of the French from Moscow, where the element 
 of intense cold was added to the hunger and 
 fatigue of the march harassed night and day 
 by pursuing Cossacks. Lee had now twice 
 missed his expected supplies first at Amelia 
 Court House and now at Farmville, and his 
 men kept themselves alive by eating whole 
 corn and such buds or young shoots as they 
 could tear from the branches in their hurried 
 flight. Years afterwards, in the island of Tene- 
 riffe, I met Col. Robert Renshaw, H. C. 51, 
 a classmate of my Colonel Charles Russell 
 Lowell. He was Lee s nephew and had been 
 quartermaster on his staff. He told me that 
 his headquarters forager came in, one of those 
 evenings, his eyes beaming with delight, and 
 
278 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 drew from his pocket four onions, more proudly 
 than if they had been nuggets of gold; and 
 the Colonel said they were the first food of any 
 kind he had seen that day, and he distributed 
 them one to each of the three constituting 
 his mess, and one to the darky as a reward for 
 his devotion. Soldiers fell out of the ranks by 
 hundreds from sheer exhaustion, and threw 
 down their arms by thousands from utter in 
 ability to carry them. They were driven like 
 sheep before howling wolves, and, fearing to 
 be shot at by their eager pursuers, many 
 struggled on till they fell to the ground from 
 the combined effects of hunger, fatigue, and 
 sleeplessness. For at night they had no rest. 
 They had to march on, if only to get a little 
 respite from fighting. And even that did not 
 save them. For our cavalry also marched at 
 night, and were all ready to set upon them, 
 however far they had toiled forward. For 
 lack of forage, the horses and mules perished 
 by hundreds, and this compelled the burning 
 of a great part of their wagons, and the spiking 
 of many of their guns. The straits to which 
 the Confederates were thus reduced led the 
 subordinate officers of Lee s army to an almost 
 unanimous decision that there was no alter 
 native but surrender. Lee, however, thought 
 otherwise. Still there was no time now for 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 279 
 
 consultation; for early on the morning of 
 April yth, just as Lee s rear guard were setting 
 fire to the wagon-road bridge near High Bridge 
 over which he had crossed in the night, General 
 Humphreys with the Second Corps came up 
 and extinguished the flames. This was a great 
 good fortune for us, as the river was unford- 
 able at that point. Humphreys immediately 
 crossed, and took up the pursuit with two 
 divisions along the old stage-road to Appo- 
 mattox Court House, sending Barlow with 
 one division towards Farmville. This was 
 Maj. Gen. Francis C. Barlow of the Class of 
 1855 H. C. He found a considerable force of 
 the enemy here burning the bridges and guard 
 ing a wagon train. He at once attacked and 
 dislodged them, and destroyed one hundred 
 and thirty wagons. He then rejoined the rest 
 of the Second Corps, which had overtaken 
 Lee s army at Cumberland Church, and found 
 it in a strongly intrenched position. Hum 
 phreys had the audacity to attack, but was 
 repulsed so severely that he waited then for 
 reinforcements. He was in a critical position, 
 but the enemy had not confidence to attack 
 him. Night soon came on, and Lee again 
 took up his line of retreat, after, however, 
 writing this note to Grant: "General: I have 
 received your note of to-day [this note was 
 
280 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 brought through the lines by my classmate 
 Gen. Charles A. Whittier of General Hum 
 phrey s staff] asking of me the surrender of 
 the Army of Northern Virginia. Though not 
 entertaining the opinion you express of the 
 hopelessness of further resistance, I reciprocate 
 your desire to avoid useless effusion of blood, 
 and therefore ask what are your terms of 
 surrender." Without waiting for an answer 
 Lee retreated, as I have said, under cover of 
 the darkness. 
 
 While Humphreys and the Second Corps 
 were thus fiercely following the rear of Lee s 
 columns on the yth of April, Sheridan was 
 moving with Merritt and McKenzie towards 
 Prince Edward Court House on the pike to 
 Danville, while Crook s cavalry went to Farm- 
 ville, where Gregg s brigade had a severe tussle 
 with the enemy on the north side of the river, 
 and Gregg was taken prisoner. When Sheri 
 dan heard of this engagement he decided that 
 Lee was directing all his energies now towards 
 reaching Lynchburg, and resolved to throw 
 his cavalry athwart Lee s new path of retreat. 
 So during the night of the 7th he recalled 
 Crook to Prospect station, and sent Merritt 
 forward to Buffalo Creek and McKenzie to 
 the Lynchburg Railroad. The Fifth Corps 
 followed the cavalry as fast as it could and 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 281 
 
 went into camp at Prince Edward Court House. 
 Ord with the Army of the James pushed 
 towards Lynchburg by way of Farmville and 
 between the Fifth Corps and the Appomattox. 
 Wright and the Sixth Corps built a bridge 
 across the river at Farmville and hurried to 
 the support of Humphreys and the Second 
 Corps. 
 
 Early on the morning of the 8th, Sheridan 
 gathered all his cavalry at Prospect station and 
 started for Appomattox station, where he 
 hoped to block Lee s last and only chance of 
 escape by the narrow neck of land between the 
 Appomattox River and the James. Shortly 
 after our march commenced, one of Major 
 Young s scouts met us, riding in hot haste, 
 and reported that there were four trains of 
 cars at Appomattox station loaded with sup 
 plies for Lee s famished troops. These sup 
 plies were sent in response to the telegram which 
 we had captured on the 4th of April and had 
 forwarded in the hope of getting the provisions 
 for ourselves. Sergeant White of Young s 
 scouts had been on the watch for them, 
 and induced the officer in charge to halt them 
 at Appomattox. Then he galloped off to tell 
 Sheridan. Sheridan at once ordered that our 
 column should push on as briskly as possible, 
 for, as he said, "supper is awaiting us twenty- 
 
282 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 five miles away." General Custer had the 
 advance, and about sunset came in sight of 
 the station and the curling smoke of the 
 locomotives, and quickly surrounded the trains 
 and captured the engineers; then, calling for 
 engineers and brakemen from his own ranks, 
 he ordered the trains towards Farmville to 
 get them under the safe cover of the approach 
 ing infantry of Ord and Griffin. As he was at 
 tending to these details, unconscious of danger, 
 there suddenly opened upon him a banging of 
 batteries, going off like myriad bunches of 
 cannon crackers; but, nothing disconcerted, 
 he dashed in upon the gunners with the men 
 that he had about him, and before the other 
 divisions could reach the field, he had captured 
 twenty-five guns, a hospital train, a large num 
 ber of wagons, and nearly a thousand prisoners. 
 These were the advance guard of Lee s army, 
 who had been hurried forward to secure the 
 trains, and for the third time in six days they 
 lost their coveted supplies. Soon our whole 
 cavalry corps came up, and Sheridan disposed 
 them in line of battle with Devin on the right 
 of Custer and Crook to the left, and advanced 
 on the road to Appomattox Court House, which 
 is about five miles from the station, pushing 
 Lee s advance guards back upon the main 
 body. 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 283 
 
 At twenty minutes past nine that evening, 
 Sheridan sent this despatch to Grant, who 
 was then at Farmville: "We are pushing the 
 enemy towards Appomattox Court House, 
 having cut off his expected supplies. If the 
 infantry can get up to-night, we will perhaps 
 finish the job in the morning. I do not think 
 Lee means to surrender until compelled to do 
 so." Sheridan also sent word to Ord and Griffin 
 that if they would press on with their corps, 
 there would be no escape for the enemy, who 
 had now reached the last ditch. 
 
 That night Sheridan did not sleep, but most 
 of us got about three hours rest, which was 
 about the average amount for the last ten 
 days. My regiment was on picket, and as 
 our line was formed about midnight in the 
 thickest darkness, I was not aware of the fact 
 that we were encamped just under the southern 
 crest of a hill upon whose northern slope was 
 the whole Rebel army; and I have learned 
 since, that then was in session, within gunshot 
 of our line, the last Confederate council of 
 war. There were present General Lee, General 
 Gordon, commanding the infantry, General 
 Pendleton, chief of artillery, and General 
 Fitzhugh Lee, as head of the cavalry. Long- 
 street was too busy to attend. Surrender 
 seemed inevitable, but they decided to make one 
 
284 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 last heroic effort to break through our lines, 
 and to General Gordon was assigned the 
 leading of the forlorn hope. 
 
 But we were all unconscious of this, and at 
 the very first rays of dawn were startled from 
 our slumbers by a shower of shells that for 
 half an hour poured down upon us, and made 
 us execute some lively manoeuvres if only to 
 save our legs. I found that, though it was 
 Sunday and I was a clergyman, it was hardly 
 wise to refuse those pressing invitations to 
 dance. I was standing with Col. Caspar 
 Crowninshield (Note w> and Lieut. Col. Wil 
 liam H. Forbes (Note 15) as these shells plunged 
 into the earth or skipped about on the surface, 
 and we were all thoroughly spattered with 
 dirt. Sheridan felt that this shelling was only 
 meant to strike terror into our ranks, and to 
 make an easier path for the advance of the 
 Confederate infantry which would speedily 
 follow. So he threw out our advance cavalry, 
 dismounted, as skirmishers, and awaited the 
 onset, meanwhile sending couriers, as he had 
 frequently through the night, to hurry up our 
 advancing infantry. 
 
 It was a beautiful Sunday morning, fair 
 dawn of a fairer day. The country was white 
 and pink with the beautiful blossoms of the 
 plum, the peach, and the pear; but we had 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 285 
 
 little time then to enjoy this pleasant outlook, 
 nor to think of the church bells that would 
 soon be chiming over the hills of home their 
 call to come to the service of the Prince of 
 Peace. Still were we not in the same service, 
 though following the track of grim-visaged 
 War? And were we not to behold that morn 
 ing the gladdest coming of Peace that mortal 
 eyes had ever witnessed? Only then we did 
 not know it, and we were beset with ominous 
 portents and filled with apprehensive fears. 
 For as soon as the artillery on the crest of the 
 hill before us ceased its fury, the Confederate 
 infantry came striding down the slope with 
 that swinging gait which had so often sent 
 terror to as many of us as did not care to be 
 shot. We received them with as destructive 
 fire as we could command, and held to our 
 ground as long as we could, and then slowly 
 and sullenly gave way inch by inch, as indeed 
 we must before their longer-range weapons 
 and their heavier lines of advance. Our stand 
 was so tenaciously held, however, that General 
 Gordon reported to Lee that he did not know 
 whether he was fighting infantry or dismounted 
 cavalry. Still we gradually gave way, until, 
 to our great joy and the Confederates utter 
 dismay, there appeared on the crest of the hill 
 behind us the headquarters flag of General 
 
286 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Ord, and soon there blazed up a bristling line 
 of the bayonets of his infantry. Then we knew 
 that all was well; and our bugles sounded 
 "Forward!" and our cavalrymen now in turn 
 pressed back the disheartened Confederates, 
 till we received orders to remount, and dash 
 across the slope of the hill to get in on the 
 enemy s left flank, leaving his centre to be 
 met by the infantry, who were now formed in 
 line of battle with the Fifth Corps on the 
 right and the Army of the James on the left. 
 Crook and McKenzie with their divisions of 
 cavalry completed the line of defence to the 
 left. Sheridan joined Merritt on the right of 
 the line, with Devin s and Custer s divisions, 
 and at once ordered us to advance in the face 
 of a heavy fire of artillery towards some higher 
 ground from which we could have a clear sweep 
 for a charge upon Gordon s left flank. We 
 soon reached the crest which overlooked a wide 
 open valley in which lay the proud Army of 
 Northern Virginia completely at bay. They 
 presented a spectacle sorry enough a thin 
 line of battle made up of Gordon s troops in 
 front facing Ord and Sheridan, another scant 
 line in the rear facing Meade, in all about eight 
 thousand fighting men, and between these two 
 lines of battle the disorganized debris of the 
 artillery and wagon trains and the gaunt fig- 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 287 
 
 ures of nearly twenty thousand unarmed 
 stragglers too weak to carry their muskets. 
 Sheridan had just made his dispositions to 
 charge, when we caught sight of a rider 
 from out the enemy s lines bearing a flag 
 of truce. Custer dashed forward to meet the 
 messenger, and taking the flag galloped back 
 and along our lines as a signal to stop our 
 advance. 
 
 This famous flag of truce was really a towel 
 which Maj. R. M. Simms drew from his 
 haversack to protect himself from our fire as 
 he galloped into our lines to request a cessation 
 of hostilities. General Custer, who received 
 it, was willing to stop our advance temporarily, 
 but left it to Generals Sheridan and Gordon 
 to order a little later a temporary truce which 
 held till Grant and Lee arranged the terms of 
 surrender and ended the war. It was of this 
 temporary truce that General Gordon gives 
 this story, and it reveals the utter destitution of 
 his command. He says: "I called Major 
 Hunter of my staff and told him to carry for 
 ward a flag of truce. He replied, General, I 
 have no flag of truce. I told him to get one. 
 He replied, General, we have no flag of truce 
 in our command. I said, "Then take a hand 
 kerchief, put it on a stick and go forward. 
 *I have no handkerchief, General. Then 
 
288 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 borrow one and go forward with it. He tried, 
 and reported that not one of the staff had a 
 handkerchief, and it was useless to seek for 
 one among the men. Then, Major, use your 
 shirt. You see, General, we all wear flannel 
 shirts. At last, however, we found a man who 
 had a white shirt. He gave it to us, and I 
 tore off the back and tail, and rigging this on 
 a stick, Major Hunter bore it aloft towards 
 the enemy s lines." 
 
 The immediate effect of this cessation of hos 
 tilities was as maybe imagined very differ 
 ent with the different armies. General Gordon 
 says of his men : "The poor fellows broke utterly 
 down. The men cried like children. Strange 
 indeed that they should have wept at surrender 
 ing in so unequal a fight, at being taken out of 
 this constant carnage and storm, at being sent 
 back to their families, at having their starved 
 and wasted forms snatched from the hungry 
 jaws of death! Yet they sobbed aloud, and 
 wrung their hands in an agony of grief. As 
 General Lee rode down the lines and saw the 
 men crying, he said in a broken voice, Oh, if 
 it had only been my lot to have fallen in one 
 of our battles! " "In a few hours" General 
 Gordon continues "in a few hours that army 
 was scattered, and the men went back to their 
 ruined and dismantled homes, many of them 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 289 
 
 walking all the way to the Carolinas and the 
 Gulf, all of them penniless, worn out and well- 
 nigh heartbroken." 
 
 Contrast with this sad picture our joy that 
 knew no bounds. We all dismounted, and such 
 a scene of handshaking and embracing I have 
 never elsewhere witnessed. Some tossed their 
 hats and cheered; some rolled on the ground, 
 yelling like Indians; some sobbed like children, 
 only with exuberance of happiness. It was 
 the very madness of joy. I would confess if 
 it were not so undignified that on that Sunday 
 morning a certain overjoyed Chaplain might 
 have been seen standing wrong end up, his hands 
 on the ground and his feet in the air, as if he 
 had actually bidden farewell to his understand 
 ings. The wild cheers that ran along the line 
 told the story from rank to rank, and an audi 
 ble wave of joy swept through the whole army. 
 The long and anxious war was over. Our 
 country was saved. Home was near. Our 
 lives, which a moment before did not seem worth 
 the tossing of a die, now seemed priceless with 
 the hopes of peace. 
 
 The terms of capitulation were soon arranged. 
 They were liberal and magnanimous, as befitted 
 the occasion. General Lee afterwards de 
 clared: "I wish to do simple justice to General 
 Grant when I say that his treatment of the 
 
290 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Army of Northern Virginia at its surrender by 
 me is without a parallel in the history of the 
 civilized world. When my poor soldiers had 
 nothing to eat, he issued the humane order that 
 forty thousand rations should be immediately 
 furnished them. [General Grant says, "I 
 authorized General Lee to send his own com 
 missary and quartermaster to Appomattox sta 
 tion, where he could have, out of the trains we 
 had stopped, all the provisions wanted."] When 
 I was directing one of my staff to make out a 
 list of things to be surrendered, and named the 
 horses, Grant said, No! No! General Lee, 
 not a horse; the men will need them for the 
 spring ploughing. I told Grant there was 
 nothing he could have done to accomplish 
 more good for them or for the government. 
 When Grant said that my officers might 
 retain their side-arms, I was again thankful; 
 but when he disclaimed any desire to make a 
 parade of surrender, I was indeed overjoyed 
 and felt that that was a touch of magnanimity 
 that bespoke a great soul." 
 
 Grant says, "I felt like anything rather than 
 rejoicing at the downfall of a foe who had fought 
 so long and valiantly and had suffered so 
 much, and when our artillery began to fire a 
 salute of a hundred guns to celebrate the 
 victory, I ordered it stopped; the Confederates 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 291 
 
 were now our prisoners and I did not want to 
 exult over them." 
 
 And our whole army responded to our 
 leader s magnanimity, and would do nothing 
 to humiliate those whose terrible sufferings and 
 agonizing mortifications were calculated to 
 draw pity even from hearts of stone. We 
 respected in them a devotion that had stood the 
 final proof. Both sides had fought with heroic 
 bravery, and each had brilliant victories or 
 successfully contested fields as the crown of 
 its valor. If the victors at Appomattox could 
 recall a Malvern Hill, an Antietam, a Gettys 
 burg, a Five Forks, the vanquished could 
 recall a Manassas, a Fredericksburg, a Chancel- 
 lorsville, a Cold Harbor. On that 9th of April 
 the soldiers shook hands over the bloody 
 chasm, and woe to him who shall ever seek to 
 unlock that brotherly embrace! 
 
 As soon as the articles of capitulation were 
 signed, the two commanding generals came 
 out of the house, and each went his way, but 
 how different in appearance and feeling! Lee 
 was tall and stately, dressed in a fresh suit of 
 Confederate gray with all the insignia of his 
 rank, upon his head a high gray felt hat with 
 gold cord, in his hands long buckskin gauntlets, 
 and at his side the splendid dress-sword that 
 had been given him by the State of Virginia. 
 
292 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 As he looked into the valley towards his army, 
 he smote his hands together in an absent sort 
 of way, and seemed to see nothing till his horse 
 was led in front of him. Then he mounted; 
 and a sadder man I have not seen as he rode 
 silently away bearing the ignominy of the "lost 
 cause" back to his dispirited followers, his 
 disrupted State, and his dismantled home. 
 
 Grant was rather short and thick-set, and was 
 dressed in his campaign clothes, which were all 
 spattered over with mud from his ride of thirty- 
 seven miles that morning. He had on the 8th 
 been following Meade in Lee s rear. He wore 
 a sugar-loaf hat, a frock coat unbuttoned, a 
 dark vest, dark blue pants tucked into top- 
 boots, and no sword. He had felt very sick for 
 twenty-four hours, and had used the most 
 heroic remedies in vain. But when he got word 
 at noon that day that Lee was ready to sur 
 render, u on the instant," he says, "I was 
 cured." Yet three hours later, when all was 
 over, I could read in his impassive face no 
 emotion as he, like Lee, also rode silently away, 
 though he was to send of? a despatch that should 
 electrify the North, and set all the church 
 bells ringing with joyous peals at this new 
 coming of the Prince of Peace with glad 
 tidings of great joy that shall yet be to all 
 
 people (Note 16). 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 293 
 
 As soon as I could get pen and paper which 
 was when the Cavalry stopped on April I4th 
 at Nottoway Court House to rest and refit 
 I wrote my resignation, being desirous to begin 
 at once my chosen lifework the ministry. 
 Talking about it with Sheridan, I asked him 
 what he was going to turn his hands to now. 
 He replied, "I know nothing but war, and I 
 suppose I shall follow army life." But most of 
 us were out of our element there, and hastened 
 to get back to civil life. All of us, however, were 
 unaware of the terrible tragedy that was then 
 enacting in Washington. 
 
 When on April 9th Lincoln received the news 
 of the surrender his heart bounded with joy, 
 and, with his usual reference of all things to 
 Providence, he ordered to be placed on the 
 Capitol this Scripture: "Thanks be to God who 
 giveth us the victory." The next morning 
 April loth Lincoln spoke his joy from the 
 balcony of the White House to the multitudes 
 gathered in front, and among them was one who 
 said to his fellow-conspirator, "That will be the 
 last speech he will make." And so it was 
 
 "That when the morn of peace broke through 
 
 The battle s cloud and din 
 He hailed with joy the promised land 
 He might not enter in." 
 
294 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 Alas! the Savior of the Nation was to be its 
 great Martyr. Only four days later April 
 I4th was fired the fatal shot. If the deed 
 must be done, there could be chosen no more 
 fitting day than Good Friday, that had wit 
 nessed the crucifixion of the great Saviour of 
 men. 
 
 The news of the terrible tragedy in Washing 
 ton did not reach our camp till Saturday, when 
 I was making my preparations for a Sunday 
 service of farewell to my regiment, and I almost 
 felt that I must withdraw my resignation, as it 
 seemed on first thought that the war must con 
 tinue. But the calmer second thought brought 
 the assurance that the hands of the assassin 
 could not turn back the floods of joy that were 
 already lifting the hearts of victors and van 
 quished to a new sense of love for a common 
 country. And this I said to the men in the 
 final service on Sunday, April i6th, at Dress 
 Parade, and told them that what seemed then 
 the darkest of tragedies would prove to be the 
 brightest of transfigurations, and that Abraham 
 Lincoln would at once be lifted among the 
 immortals. The greatness of his character had 
 hitherto been hidden under the homely sim 
 plicity of his bearing and his childlike willing 
 ness to follow rather than to lead. But this 
 humble waiting on events which so many had 
 
IN THE CIVIL WAR, 1863-1865 295 
 
 thought his greatest weakness would now be 
 seen to have been his greatest strength, be 
 cause it was really waiting on God, and when he 
 saw clearly which way God and Duty pointed, 
 then nothing could keep him from instant 
 action. He waited two years before he freed 
 the slaves. But when he heard the clock strike 
 the Providential hour he signed without trem 
 bling the Proclamation of Emancipation 
 the most momentous individual act of modern 
 times. 
 
 I count it one of the most precious privileges 
 of my life that I once took in mine the hand of 
 Abraham Lincoln the brotherly hand that at 
 the first Inaugural held out to the threatening 
 South this olive-branch: "We are not enemies, 
 but friends. We must not be enemies. Though 
 passion may have strained, it must not break 
 our bonds of affection. The mystic chords 
 of memory stretching from every battlefield 
 and patriot grave to every living heart and 
 hearthstone all over this broad land will yet 
 swell the chorus of the Union when again 
 touched, as surely they will be, by the better 
 angels of our nature." And I rejoice to have 
 held in mine the firm hand that kept true the 
 rudder of the Ship of State through all the 
 storms of war; the kindly hand that heartened 
 the soldiers in the field and in the hospital, 
 
296 FIELD, CAMP, HOSPITAL AND PRISON 
 
 wrote letters for the sick, and smoothed the 
 pillow of the dying; the tender hand that wrote 
 the Gettysburg address, and the Second Inaug 
 ural with its "malice toward none" and its 
 "charity for all." But more even than for 
 all these I am proud to have clasped the 
 strong hand that struck the fetters from millions 
 of Slaves and laid firm and forever in freedom 
 the foundation s of our nationality. 
 
NOTES 
 
 Note /, page 3. These simple Services of Ordination at the 
 Harvard Divinity School, July 14, 1863, reveal the deep meanings 
 of the struggle of 1861 to 1865. In their essence they are very 
 like the ideals of our now-united Nation in the present world- 
 conflict. 
 
 ORDINATION 
 
 OF MR. CHARLES A. HUMPHREYS 
 
 To the Editor of the Christian Inquirer: 
 
 IN that little Divinity Hall Chapel you undoubtedly well 
 remember and love, were gathered on the morning of the recent 
 "Visitation Day" while "the rain descended and the floods 
 came" without a few interested friends to ordain a Chaplain 
 of the Second Massachusetts Cavalry Regiment, Mr. Charles A. 
 Humphreys of the graduating class. 
 
 The exercises consisted of Prayer and Selections from Scripture 
 by Mr. Chancy of Hollis-street; Ordaining Prayer by Dr. Noyes; 
 Charge by J. F. W. Ware; Right Hand by Edward H. Hall, 
 Chaplain 44th M. V., a closing hymn, and benediction by the 
 new chaplain. It was somewhat amusing, as the audience broke 
 up, to hear their expressions of surprise at having got through an 
 ordination in less than forty-five minutes. I have been asked to 
 send you the accompanying parts. 
 
 CHARGE 
 
 My Young Friend and Brother, This occasion is new to our 
 ecclesiastical annals, and there can be no one here who does not 
 
298 NOTES 
 
 feel its peculiar interest and solemnity. The consecration of a 
 young man to the service of God in the Church always impresses; 
 but the service you now choose is not in the Church. What 
 she has to offer of peace, of honor, of struggle, you turn from. It 
 is not the Church that calls you to-day, but the country; and you 
 stand at the altar, set apart by our prayers, as before by your 
 own, to that service she asks of you. And yet, in serving your 
 country, in taking your part in the lot of the day, are you not 
 serving the Church? God, who has guided your young steps 
 into this way of duty, keep you in it, and bless you! 
 
 The work of the army chaplain has never been satisfactorily 
 limited or defined. I suppose that it cannot be. It is for each 
 man to make of it all that he can, and the kind of man he is will 
 determine the chaplain he shall be. Take, therefore, no counsel 
 of those going before you, but go to make your own place, 
 watching for opportunity, and doing your utmost everywhere. 
 At home, where conventions and customs enclose, a man must 
 yield to them somewhat, if he does not get overlaid by them. 
 Your occasions, your duties, are not, cannot be limited for you. 
 You enter a broad and largely untrodden field. You must 
 make your own work. No man may do more than a chaplain 
 few have done less than some. 
 
 As preacher, your occasions will not be many. In the stir and 
 uncertainty of active campaigning, there is little opportunity, 
 perhaps less inclination, for the stated services of religion. A 
 brief exhortation, with brief prayer, will be all you can ever 
 wisely attempt. Speak earnestly out of your own life to the lives 
 about you. Forget books, and theologies, and all nicety of lan 
 guage the mere training of schools and speak straight on, and 
 simply the things which shall lead men out of themselves unto 
 God. Exhort, instruct, rebuke, and have faith that no word 
 uttered can return to you void. 
 
 I have heard it said of one of our brethren, "Oh! he was no 
 chaplain at all. He never once said we were sinners." Do 
 not be anxious to call men that word. It does little good. 
 It satisfies the demand of some sects; it has a seeming of 
 piety; but it never helps men to be better. They want 
 broad, wholesome, indisputable truths and principles to stand 
 
NOTES 299 
 
 upon, to build from. Give them these, and your work will be 
 with power and success. 
 
 Your great work will be in your daily intercourse with officers 
 and men. You are to teach from your life more than from your 
 lips. I say officers and men. Do not overlook the former. 
 Many chaplains find their position with the officers exceedingly 
 unpleasant. They are barely endured as an uncomfortable 
 necessity, and they become untrue in this branch of duty for the 
 sake of their peace, and have sometimes terribly lapsed in their 
 dignity and character. The officers are a part of your charge. 
 You are not merely chaplain over the rank and file, but what will 
 try your manhood more, what is of quite equal importance to the 
 service and the country, to the men and the homes, you are 
 chaplain over the officers. Though they may not feel it, or wish 
 to, though you may be tempted to forget it, they are a part of 
 your charge; and it is the emphatic word of one who has pre 
 ceded you, that if the officers are not what is right, the chaplain 
 can make them so while it was the equally emphatic assertion 
 of one high in regimental command to me lately, that where the 
 officers were right, the moral tone of the soldier returning from 
 service would be found to be higher than when he left home. I 
 need not tell you, then, what a duty it is that devolves on you here. 
 If I were you, I would know something about every man in my 
 regiment not his character only, but his history what are his 
 home-ties, his previous occupation, and what his future purpose; 
 and then I would keep strictly, not a mere note-book, but a some 
 what fuller diary for present reference, and for after use. I 
 would find somehow to get at every man in some way get and 
 keep an influence over him. I think this can be done by a con 
 stant watchfulness and a little tact. The opportunities are little 
 and many. In camp, in hospital, on the march, on the field, find 
 out sone way to do something. Great occasions, trying occasions, 
 will come. You can make little ones and you know what mighty 
 things little things are. That is the way with men s hearts. 
 Where you can be of any use, do any good, do not hesitate. Let 
 position, and dignity, and convention, and etiquette go. They 
 are small chaff where a soul may be helped. Take your man 
 hood and apply it to their manhood. The soldier is singularly 
 
300 NOTES 
 
 receptive, not of words only, but of influence. A very little 
 thing will give you a warm place in his regard a great control 
 over him. In earnest himself, he sees clean through a sham; 
 he despises all cant; he does not want to be stooped to; but to 
 any hearty, honest manliness he gives a prompt and hearty re 
 turn. He is singularly childlike. He will seek you in your tent, 
 and lean on your word as he never would do at home. I have been 
 surprised to find the man, brave, self-reliant on duty, in danger, 
 coming to me as a little child, and as he never would at home; 
 and it is the general testimony that those who have always been 
 a law to themselves never were led in the life of the camp, 
 when not in the line and pressure of duty, become singularly de 
 pendent; and the man who was at home always cheerful, in ser 
 vice is liable to depressions. His absence from home, the tone 
 of public remark, the fatigue and harassing of the march, the dis 
 comfort of bivouac and picket, the tedium of guard duty, the 
 monotony, or scantiness of rations, the thousand annoyances 
 and privations of his condition, tend to depress him. The 
 morale of a regiment may depend upon you. You must always 
 be cheerful. Never let them catch you down-hearted or timid. 
 Have a kind, hearty, genial word for all, always. Have you a 
 good, clear, ringing, honest laugh? Use it. It is God s gift to 
 you. It is contagious. It is better than a dram to a fainting 
 spirit. Wherever you are, and whatever the strain of despon 
 dency about you, feel that it is your duty to keep a good heart, 
 and you will find yourself the support of many. 
 
 My friend and brother! take these imperfect words -not the 
 technical words of a charge, for I feel myself too young yet to 
 assume such a task, especially in this place, where hallowed lips, 
 long dumb, strove to show me the way into my work as an 
 assurance of the interest with which I shall follow you into a 
 field from whose duties I have myself, it may be unwisely, shrunk. 
 No man I so to-day envy as the man who goes out to this duty 
 you have chosen. I am sure that you go to it from no impulse, no 
 self-seeking, with no low hopes or aims, but out of a deep con 
 viction, and a feeling, earnest heart. God will lead you, day by 
 day. Day by day, your duties will unfold before you, and 
 fresh opportunities arise. In your quiet, every-day intercourse 
 
NOTES 301 
 
 and life, is to be your success. You will soon be known. Men 
 will talk of you by the camp-fire, and in the tent. Without 
 looking for any marked, startling results, be sure that your 
 honest labor will not be in vain. It will bless others, and re 
 dound in blessing to yourself. 
 
 RIGHT HAND OF FELLOWSHIP 
 
 It is my pleasant duty, my brother, to bid you welcome to your 
 new and untried work. I can do it very sincerely. It is a 
 rare initiation into the Christian ministry that lies before you. 
 I congratulate you that your entrance upon your calling falls in 
 times and amid scenes like these; and that you are inclined to 
 push forward at once to the front, where the truth you are to 
 defend is receiving and dealing its heaviest blows. 
 
 It is with no common interest that Christianity looks upon 
 this bloody strife. Indeed, she is deeply and mainly responsible 
 for it. It is those stubborn, inexorable truths which she utters; 
 those immutable laws which she proclaims; those seductive 
 ideas at which she hints; justice, freedom, the sanctity of man, 
 which lie at the bottom of the contest, and thrust themselves 
 forward in every new battle-field. These are the mischievous cause 
 of all our woes. But for them, the country might be slumbering 
 still in her selfish materialism, undisturbed by any appeal from 
 outraged justice or offended humanity. Having brought on the 
 struggle, therefore having rendered it inevitable Christianity 
 is bound to attend it to its close. Having guarded her sacred 
 principles through all their hidden conflicts, it would be base 
 recreancy to desert them when they enter on an open strife, 
 and the battle-field is shifted to a stage where the world can 
 see it. 
 
 It is with a purpose, therefore, that Christianity sends her 
 representatives to the front to-day. Nor can she honorably 
 do otherwise. And happy are they to whom this service is 
 assigned. 
 
 You will go, my brother, where the old conflict of ideas has 
 taken on itself a visible and palpable form. While others view 
 it from afar, you will step into its very presence, and see it face to 
 
302 NOTES 
 
 face. While others are speaking vaguely of the high inspira 
 tions of the hour, dimly conscious that such there are, you will 
 place yourself in actual contact with them, feel their mighty 
 power, and carry off their richest teachings. You will go, too, 
 for a short season never again perhaps, in this earthly life 
 where the musings and speculations of our religious faith become 
 vivid and intense realities. For all this I congratulate you, my 
 brother. Have I not a cause? 
 
 But I congratulate you as well, that you have chosen to con 
 secrate your calling, at its outset, to the practical wants and 
 living demands of the hour, to show how competent is the faith 
 which you hold to deal with man s daily necessities, to interest 
 itself in his common concerns, to appreciate his human needs, to 
 go hand in hand with him, even into life s struggles and perils, 
 and if suffering comes, to bind up the bleeding wound, and pour 
 in the oil of manly sympathy and tender, loving charity. So 
 religion wins its holiest triumphs 
 
 Shall I not congratulate you, too, Christian minister as you are, 
 that you are to enter on the practice of your faith where it will 
 receive its severest and most pitiless tests? where none but a 
 masculine, sinewy faith will do? where religion must strip itself 
 of all its pretences, and abide by its simple realities? must forget 
 its exclusiveness and lend itself to the largest, most compre 
 hensive charity? where eyes, quickened to clearest insight, pene 
 trate through every disguise in which mock-piety loves to wrap 
 itself? where earnest souls sicken at all hypocrisies, yet yield 
 themselves so unresistingly to the power of pure and lofty 
 truth? 
 
 And, when all else is said, I congratulate you, as a man and a 
 citizen of this republic, that you are to have a hand in the mighty 
 struggle in which human freedom, insulted and imperiled so long, 
 is vindicating its majesty, and crushing its life-long foes to the 
 earth. Great will be your joy, as the years pass by, that you have 
 been an actor in the historic strife; and that you hallowed your 
 calling by connecting it so intimately with the endangered cause 
 of human progress. 
 
 Accept, then, my brother, this Hand of Christian Fellowship. 
 There are greetings in store for you, I know, from camp and 
 
CAPT. J. SEWALL REED, ist Tenor CAPT. JOSIAH S. BALDWIN, 1st Tenor 
 
 MAJOR WILLIAM H. FORBES, 2d Tenor 
 CHAPLAIN CHARLES A. HUMPHREYS, ist Bass CAPT. GOODWIN A. STONE, 2d Bass 
 
 CAMP QUARTETTE 
 
 y, . 
 
NOTES 303 
 
 hospital and field, which will put these poor words of mine to 
 shame. But in friendly sympathy I offer them. 
 
 In the name of the little brotherhood whose circle you now 
 enter in the name of that larger Church, broader than all party- 
 lines, which, in these trial-hours, is gathering in its converts by 
 thousands in the name, higher and holier still, of that humanity 
 to whose sacred cause you consecrate your fresh strength to-day 
 I bid you welcome to your labors. May God s blessing rest upon 
 them, and your best hopes be amply fulfilled! 
 
 Note 2, page 4. Photograph of Camp of Second Massachu 
 setts Cavalry at Vienna, Va. Field and Staff Officers Tents. 
 Chaplain. Major Forbes. Colonel Crowninshield. Adjutant 
 Kinne. Surgeon. Line Officers Tents. Company Tents. 
 
 Note 3, page 4. In the Harvard Glee Club I had sung first 
 bass, and in our extemporized quartette in camp I took the same 
 part, with Capt. Goodwin A. Stone, H. C. 1862, as second 
 bass, Maj. William H. Forbes, H. C. 1861, as second tenor, and 
 Capt. J. Sewall Reed as first tenor till he was killed at Draines- 
 ville, February 22, 1864, when Lieut. J. S. Baldwin took his 
 place. 
 
 Note 4, page 5. The books sent by my dear friend Rev. Henry 
 Wilder Foote of King s Chapel were about two hundred volumes, 
 some of them elegantly bound. They were in response to his 
 appeal to his parishioners, who also contributed as many maga 
 zines. The books were not only well bound, but of a distinctly 
 high order. I could furnish to my men the works of the poets 
 Hood, Wordsworth, Tennyson, Longfellow, Whittier, Holmes, 
 and Lowell, and in dramatic poetry, Shakespeare. In history 
 I had Gibbon and Macaulay, Sparks and Bancroft. In fiction 
 I had Dickens and Scott and Thackeray and Bulwer and Bronte 
 and Irving and a host of others. 
 
 Note 5, page 10. My young friend, and neighbor on Humphreys 
 Street, Dorchester, Samuel Groom, son of Thomas Groom, the 
 
304 NOTES 
 
 well-remembered stationer of State Street, sent me in a single 
 large box twelve sets of Magic Divination Cards, four wood 
 puzzles, three boxes of jackstraws, ten wire puzzles, twelve 
 Solitaire boards made by his own hands with the help of 
 his younger brother John, twelve boxes of marbles for use 
 on the Solitaire boards, six boxes of wooden dominoes, 
 three games of Authors, twelve Chinese puzzles, twelve checker 
 boards made of pasteboard, twelve boxes of counters, two wooden 
 checker-boards and two boxes of checkers, twenty jew s-harps, 
 one set of chessmen, eleven boxes of card dominoes, an abun 
 dance of pencils and pens and notepaper and envelopes, and some 
 books and magazines withal a splendid contribution to the 
 entertainment of the soldiers. 
 
 Note 6, page n. It was in the yearning of Governor Andrew s 
 great heart towards a race in bondage that he found a brave 
 coadjutor in my college classmate Robert Gould Shaw, a boy of 
 twenty-three, born in Boston and brought up in a family that 
 for many years had been devoted to efforts for the emancipation 
 of the blacks. So his mind was clear, and his heart was aglow, 
 as to his duty to assist in every possible way to redeem a race of 
 slaves. His only hesitancy was his youth and inexperience. He 
 had enlisted as a private in the New York Seventh Regiment on 
 the day of the first bloodshed in Baltimore. He was soon com 
 missioned Second Lieutenant in the Second Massachusetts 
 Infantry Volunteers, and rose to a captaincy within a year, 
 having shared in all the battles in which this regiment was en 
 gaged. Early in 1863, Governor Andrew offered him the colonelcy 
 of the first colored regiment to be raised in Massachusetts. He 
 at first declined, in the modest consciousness of inability for so 
 important a post. But soon after, he accepted the appointment, 
 and said: "What I shall have to do is to prove that the negro 
 can be a good soldier. I shall not be frightened out of it by its 
 unpopularity." "If the raising of the colored troops prove such 
 a benefit to the country and to the blacks as I pray and hope, 
 I shall thank God a thousand times that I was led to take my 
 share in it." We all felt that in thus accepting the leadership 
 of a colored regiment, Shaw not only championed an unpopular 
 
NOTES 305 
 
 cause at the North but made himself an outlaw with the Con 
 federate authorities. And indeed they passed an act in their 
 Congress declaring that any white officer captured while in com 
 mand of negroes should be executed as a felon. I well remember 
 the day, May 28, 1863, that Shaw led his regiment from Boston; 
 how proud I was of his heroic bearing; how sad I was at his 
 probable fate. And it came full soon. Leading his men in the 
 charge against Fort Wagner, he fell with them just at the en 
 trance of the fortress. 
 
 " Right in the van 
 On the red rampart s slippery swell, 
 With heart that beat a charge, he fell 
 Forward as fits a man." 
 
 QAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.] 
 
 "He and his dusky braves one moment stood, and then 
 Drave through that cloud of purple steel and flame 
 Which wrapt him, held him, gave him not again, 
 But in its trampled ashes left to Fame 
 An everlasting name." 
 
 [T. B. ALDRICH.] 
 
 He was ignominiously buried in the trench "with his niggers," 
 as the Rebels scornfully declared. But this ignominy of the 
 trench was, like the ignominy of the cross, transformed into im 
 mortal glory, and now he stands out as an ideal knight, the 
 champion of a race redeemed. 
 
 Note 7, page 25. Herman Melville was born in New York City 
 August i, 1819, went to sea in 1837, and after many adventures 
 in the islands of the Pacific returned to Boston in 1844. He 
 published "Typee" in 1846 and "Omoo" in 1847. In 1847 he 
 married Elizabeth, daughter of Chief Justice Shaw. In 1851 
 he published "Moby Dick," a classic among whaling stories, 
 and in later years nearly a dozen others. He died in New 
 York, September 28, 1891. His widow died in Boston, July 
 3i, 1906- 
 
306 NOTES 
 
 Note 8, page 54. This is the picture of Bartlett that I sent 
 to Sculptor French, and which he acknowledged thus: 
 
 GLENDALE, MASS. 
 
 July 30, 1902. 
 
 Dear Mr. Humphreys, The photograph came safely and is a 
 very valuable addition to the material I have to work from in 
 moulding the statue of General Bartlett. Thank you very 
 much not only for sending this to me, but for the kindly interest 
 you have always taken in my doings. 
 
 With much regard I remain 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 DANIEL C. FRENCH. 
 
 This was Whittier s most worthy tribute to Bartlett: 
 WILLIAM FRANCIS BARTLETT 
 Born June 6, 184.0. 
 
 As Galahad pure, as Merlin sage, 
 What worthier knight was found 
 
 To grace in Arthur s golden age 
 The fabled Table Round? 
 
 A voice, the battle s trumpet-note, 
 
 To welcome and restore; 
 A hand, that all unwilling smote, 
 
 To heal and build once more! 
 
 A soul of fire, a tender heart 
 
 Too warm for hate, he knew 
 The generous victor s graceful part 
 
 To sheathe the sword he drew. 
 
 Note 9, pages 8385. An address given in the First Church, 
 Dorchester, June 19, 1864, commemorative of Walter Hum 
 phreys, by Rev. Nathaniel Hall: 
 
 On the soil of Virginia, near one of the fields recently swept 
 by the storm of battle, is a freshly-made grave, bearing on its 
 head-board this inscription: "Private WALTER HUMPHREYS, 
 Co. A, I3th Mass. Volunteers." [This head-board soon dis 
 appeared and the grave is "unknown."] We gather, in heart, this 
 
BREVET MAJ. GEN. WILLIAM F. BARTLETT 
 
NOTES 307 
 
 afternoon, around that distant grave. We come to pay a tribute 
 of honoring affection to the memory of him whom that inscription 
 designates; to recall the more recent incidents of his brief career; 
 to depict the leading features of his character and life; to speak 
 of him in words of simplicity and truth, less to honor him than 
 to benefit ourselves. It is fitting we should do this. Born 
 and reared among us; until war sounded its clarion trump 
 sounded it, as he felt, for him hardly leaving his native village; 
 here presented, in infancy, for baptism; these walls the witness, 
 from childhood up, of his listening presence; the Sunday-school 
 enrolling him, early and late, among its cherished members, it 
 is fitting he should be thus remembered by us, were there not 
 the added and appealing claim that he has given his life in our 
 behalf, that he sleeps in a patriot s grave. Had his body re 
 turned to us for burial, we should have yielded above it public 
 tribute as we have over those of our brothers and sons who fell 
 before him, in the same holy cause. Why withhold such tribute 
 because his body rests afar? Nay, we will not withhold it. His 
 relations to our country s conflict, to our church, to ourselves 
 above all, his private worth and his Christian example, urge 
 to its bestowal. 
 
 WALTER HUMPHREYS was born on the 4th of July, 1842 
 auspicious day on which to begin a life that was to be laid down, 
 in the flower and beauty of it, for the cause of freedom and the 
 rights of man. Little thought we, at that time of national 
 prosperity and peace, that ere that cradled babe should have 
 reached his majority, his arm would be needed, with a million 
 more, to strike in defence of the nation s imperilled liberties and 
 life. His childhood and youth were unmarked by extraordinary 
 incident. Home and school, work and play, express the main 
 diversifications of those swiftly, but calmly, speeding years. 
 Nor was there anything remarkable in the gradual developments 
 of his inner life; save that, beyond most, there was in him, and 
 more and more noticeable, as characteristic traits, a singleness of 
 mind, a sincerity of heart, an honesty of purpose, truthfulness, 
 docility, sobriety, a sense of responsibleness, a conscientious 
 fidelity. "He was the most conscientious," says his father, "of 
 all my children"; the full worth of which eulogy they only can 
 
308 NOTES 
 
 estimate who have known those on whom the comparison is 
 based. How far these qualities were referable to implanted 
 tendencies of nature, and how far to influences of education, He 
 alone knows who sees, with omniscient eye, those subtlest of all 
 workings which attach to the formative period of moral charac 
 ter; though, doubtless, the ancestral head-stream whence flowed 
 his life had much to do in giving it its puritanic type of excel 
 lence, as had the domestic and social influences into which he 
 was born, in nurturing and shaping it. 
 
 He became early interested, and more and more as mind 
 and heart unfolded, in questions of moral reform, and took such 
 active part as a youth may, but as few comparatively do, in 
 their advocacy and promotion. He exhibited in himself a worthy 
 specimen of that product of distinctive New England culture 
 and training, which consists in an intelligent apprehension of 
 great public movements, and an earnest interest in them, long 
 before the time of constitutional citizenship. With nothing of 
 an unbecoming forwardness at the farthest remove from this 
 he did not shrink from committing himself, among his associates, 
 to any cause his convictions led to the approval of, nor to any 
 course with reference to it which seemed right and obligatory. 
 The remark has especial application to his connection with the 
 Temperance Reform, in whose organized and active ranks heart 
 and conscience led him to an early enlistment, and his fidelity 
 to which no after "enlistment" served to lessen. His convictions 
 of its importance, his sense of responsibility, and ever-wakeful 
 conscientiousness, constrained him to work for it, whenever he 
 saw, or thought he saw, a rightfully available opportunity, or a 
 possibly impressible subject. He was not content, as too many 
 are, with what the mere example of abstinence may effect, in 
 this cause. The example, indeed, is much. Argument and 
 appeal go but for little where it is wanting. But better both, 
 the persuasion of life and lip, of deed and word; life and deed 
 yielding authority and emphasis to lip and word. It is not for 
 me to speak of the comparative worth of organized action, in 
 this Reform, and that which is private and personal; but I am 
 moved to say that where the object is the rescue of the individual, 
 private and personal and unofficial action, in a spirit of friendli- 
 
PRIVATE WALTER HUMPHREYS 
 
 U U t V . L r 
 C u L I l r U K I u 
 
NOTES 309 
 
 ness and sympathy, must, beyond all other, be effective to its 
 end. Such, I understand, was one of the ways in which the 
 conscientiousness of our young brother showed itself, in relation 
 to this particular Reform. And it seems to me worthy an espe 
 cial mention, as being so rarely found, in young or old. We do 
 not enough consider, any of us, our responsibility for the use of 
 opportunities given in the ordinary relations and passing inter 
 courses of life, for such word of counsel, warning, encouragement, 
 as we may be competent to speak. Conventionalisms, timidity, 
 distrustfulness, restrain and bind us. 
 
 The war found him a youth of eighteen, engaged in a regular 
 occupation. Its call came to him too loudly, at last, too per 
 sonally, to be resisted. He heard in it the call of country, of 
 freedom, of justice, of humanity. The voice within said, "Go." 
 That voice, ever imperative with him, he of course obeyed. 
 Considerations of a personal nature would have held him back. 
 Natural tendencies and dispositions tastes, temperament said, 
 "Stay." The sense of duty was too strong for them. Patriot 
 ism, humanity, pleaded too persuasively in the recesses of his 
 heart. I think I am not saying too much when I say that none 
 have gone forth to our great conflict with purer or more disin 
 terested motives. Nothing, I am sure, would have taken him 
 from the peaceful conditions, so consonant with his nature, in 
 which his lot was cast, to enter upon the arena of military life, 
 to assume the bearing, to endure the notoriety, to follow the 
 pursuits of the soldier, nothing less would have done it than 
 the stern urgency of principle, than the divine persuasives of 
 sentiment. With many who enlist, as we know, a natural sus- 
 ceptibleness to martial attractions, a love of change, of adven 
 ture, of distinction, of approbation, mingles with higher motives, 
 even where higher motives are predominant. I think that with 
 him they mingled not at all. 
 
 He went. He bade "good-bye" to home and friends, and 
 turned, with manly heart, to meet the unknown fate awaiting 
 him in the then hotly-waging contest. What a magnet how 
 potent the war has been, to attract into conscious and manifest 
 life the latent heroism of our homes! From beneath how many 
 a lowly roof, and stately too, have issued youthful forms, clad 
 
3 10 NOTES 
 
 and armed for camp and field forms that had never known 
 privation, hardship, sacrifice, ready, hastening, to encounter 
 them; encountering them with unflinching and uncomplaining 
 heart; passing, as by a bound, from the softness of youth into 
 the gristle of moral manhood; surprising us into the knowledge 
 that our boys are heroes! What a school for individual unfolding 
 has the war afforded! What a training-ground, in other than 
 the military sense! What instances have gleamed, through its 
 smoke and dust, upon our half-believing vision, of intellectual 
 and moral development and growth, what revelations of char 
 acter, power, nobility, enforced by its incentives, opportunities, 
 appeals! "Are not such instances exceptions?" Doubtless, 
 and rare ones, too. But they exist. Many a heart, watching 
 from far-off homes, can point to them; their earlier solicitudes 
 brightening into hopes, their fears ending in thankfulness. The 
 war did, I judge, for our brother its incentives, opportunities, 
 appeals what years of ordinary experience would have failed to 
 do, in bringing out and maturing faculty and trait, and lifting 
 him towards the height of a true manhood. 
 
 Enlisting, as a private, in the I3th Mass., then in the field, 
 in active service, he left home, in the August of 62, to join it. 
 It was with much difficulty, and after days of fatiguing travel, 
 that he found his regiment; pressing forward, as it was, with 
 the rest of the army of the Potomac, under Gen. Pope, in his 
 attempt against Richmond. He came up with it to find its 
 advance changed to a retreat, in rapid and excited movement, 
 before the enemy; necessitating for him, in addition to what he 
 had previously endured, seven days of still more wearing and 
 intense fatigue. The result was physical exhaustion to a degree 
 disabling him from duty, and sending him into a hospital, in 
 Philadelphia. After being there for some time as patient, he 
 was made Ward Master within it, and for many months served 
 in that capacity; his impaired health excluding him from camp 
 and field, but enabling him to much humble usefulness. So 
 feeble was he for a time that it was proposed to him to obtain a 
 discharge and return home; but he preferred to remain at his 
 providentially assigned post, in hope of being able to rejoin his 
 regiment; which at last he did. His stay at the hospital was 
 
NOTES 3 1 1 
 
 made useful above and beyond the discharge of prescribed duty. 
 In how many ways and to what extent we know not; but we 
 know that his conscientiousness led him, there, as every where, 
 to make use of all available opportunities for doing good, while 
 his example of genuine and unpretending goodness told upon all 
 who were brought in contact with him. He exhibited, while a 
 patient, the strength and radicalness of his temperance principles, 
 in refusing to take spirits, though prescribed by his surgeon; as 
 also, afterwards, his benevolent interest in the cause, by originat 
 ing and organizing a total abstinence society among the inmates 
 of the hospital, of which he was one of the leading officers. 
 
 He left the hospital in December, and went into camp, at the 
 winter-quarters of his regiment, in Virginia; and towards the last 
 of April started with it, on the great campaign, yet in progress, 
 under Gen. Grant. In a letter to his brother, dated May 3d, 
 he speaks of the momentous character of the campaign they 
 were commencing, in its possible issues and certain dangers, 
 and adds, "If it should so happen that I should not again write, 
 that I should offer myself up on my country s altar, believe that 
 I was faithful, and that I faltered not in danger. Don t allow 
 the folks to take an undue amount of anxiety in regard to my 
 welfare, and if it should so happen that I fall, try to make them 
 consider how honorable the death. I am very cheerful and con 
 tented." They were pencilled and hurried lines, written at 
 night, in the expectation of starting at daybreak. He ends 
 them thus, "May God crown our efforts with success." May 
 nth, he writes to his father, from a just contested field, "I am 
 still safe. A great battle has been raging for six days. I have 
 been in the midst of it, have been engaged in several charges, 
 but have not been wounded. Terrible was the storm of cannon 
 and musketry yesterday. I was not engaged with a musket, 
 but was detailed to carry ammunition, in the midst of shot and 
 shell. A great many have been killed and wounded." May 
 15th, he writes to his brother from Spottsylvania, giving a brief 
 account of what had transpired in the last few days, and express 
 ing himself in terms of tender endearment toward those at 
 home. The day was Sunday, and he says, "Tell them, that 
 though I am not sitting with them at church to-day, I am sitting 
 
312 NOTES 
 
 in the broad Church of Nature, where I can commune with my 
 self about heavenly things." A week after, May 22d, he again 
 writes, reporting an advance from Spottsylvania to Guiney s 
 Station, and speaking of his good physical condition, with the 
 exception of foot-soreness, from incessant marches. "Our 
 Lieut. General," he says, "does not rest after one day s engage 
 ment with the enemy, but still presses him before us." "We 
 proceeded yesterday," he writes, "for some distance on the 
 Fredericksburg and Richmond railroad. I assure you it was 
 cheering to think, as I stepped from sleeper to sleeper, that I 
 was on the direct road to Richmond." This was the last letter 
 received from him. June 1st, eight days from the date of it, 
 while moving forward, with his brigade, under fire of the enemy s 
 sharpshooters, to establish a new line of breastworks, he received 
 a wound in the abdomen, and was borne, by a loved comrade, to 
 the field hospital, where, on the evening of the next day, he died. 
 "I saw him several times," writes the chaplain of the 39th 
 Mass., to whom he was before a stranger "and had the sad 
 pleasure of administering to his wants. He received intelligence 
 of the probable fatal result of his wound with great calmness. 
 He did not seem to suffer much, and retained his senses clearly. 
 When asked if he had any messages for his friends, he said, Send 
 them my love, and say good-bye to them. He placed his Testa 
 ment in my hands, saying that they might prize it as a keep 
 sake. He was buried this morning, in a piece of woods, on the 
 road to Cold Harbor." "He sustained an excellent character, 
 used no intoxicating beverages, no profane language. From his 
 conversation I judged him to be a Christian and prepared for 
 death." "The fairest and best are taken [concludes the writer, 
 whose letter does credit to his own heart, as well as to the sub 
 ject of it] the fairest and best are taken the sacrifice is great 
 but the reward is sure." To this testimony from one to whom 
 he was a stranger, I will add that of a young fellow-soldier and 
 friend, who during this campaign had fought and slept by his 
 side, though not able to be with him at the last: "I have always 
 respected him," he writes, "for his Christian attributes, but 
 more lately, by association with him, discovered he had true 
 bravery. From the commencement of this campaign he has 
 
NOTES 313 
 
 always been in his place. His physical strength and my own I 
 judge to have been nearly the same, and thus I am enabled to 
 appreciate his self-denials. We had a week of tedious marches, 
 by day and night; had much fatigue duty, often after marching 
 by day throwing up breastworks at night; had rain upon rain, 
 in which he was wet to the skin, and lay down with nothing under 
 or over him; was under fire more or less every day, and yet 
 he showed nothing of ill humor; I did not hear from him one 
 word of complaint; he asked for nothing but good news, and 
 when that came was happy." The writer speaks especially 
 of one time, when bullets and shells were coming thick and 
 fast around him, how he preserved a perfect calmness; and at 
 intervals, when unoccupied with the work for which he was 
 especially detailed and waiting orders to resume it, how, instead 
 of resting himself, he found employment in assisting, with 
 thoughtful kindness, the wounded soldiers, coming at the time 
 in crowds from the front, about a quarter of a mile distant. In 
 another letter, to his own family, this young comrade writes, 
 "Humphreys never shirked a duty." 
 
 Testimony like this, from friend and stranger, is of priceless 
 worth; though we looked for no other. We who knew him at 
 home, and knew the spirit in which he went from us, could not 
 have believed otherwise than that he would stand firm and 
 faithful in the time of trial and danger, and do well the part 
 assigned him, wherever and whatever it might be. And yet, 
 it was a mighty trial, it was an appalling danger; and no wonder 
 if, momentarily, he had quailed before it. He did not quail, 
 the testimony is, even momentarily, but bore himself, at once 
 and through all, with a calmness and courage which must have 
 drawn its inspiration from a higher than mortal source. We 
 are accustomed to hear of the practical worth of religious prin 
 ciple in other spheres and connections; these times have led us 
 to know its value on the battle-field; how it endues a man with 
 an unfearing and persistent and unconquerable bravery, as far 
 superior in effect as it is in source to the reckless dash and fevered 
 impulsions of the mere fighter for vengeance or a name. Walter 
 Humphreys was a hero. It needed not that he should become a 
 soldier to assure us of it. For common and daily life has its 
 
3 14 NOTES 
 
 calls for heroism; and they are answered there. They were so 
 by him, in his stern fidelity to a sense of duty and of right. 
 Nor was he less a hero because his place was in the ranks; be 
 cause his name, as inscribed above his sleeping dust, has no 
 prefix save that of "Private." Praise to those who lead on to 
 victory; praise no less to those who follow, and achieve it! 
 
 Another is added to our youthful dead. We had hoped to 
 welcome him home, when the cause which demanded him should 
 have won its final triumph his patriotic self-devotion would 
 hardly have permitted it before. It cannot be. Vainly among 
 those who may then return to us, shall we search for him. His 
 voice shall have no part in the ascending psalm of a people s 
 thanksgiving over a redeemed and peace-encircled land. It is 
 well. He has done what he could to help forward that glorious 
 consummation. He has died nobly, for noblest ends. He has 
 left a fair and stainless record. He has bequeathed a memory 
 which it will do us good to cherish. 
 
 In the words, just received from his distant post, of a brother, 
 who, in a kindred spirit, is serving the same blessed cause, "He 
 loved great principles, labored for them, fought for them, died 
 for them. Into his short life was compressed more of real life- 
 experience than commonly enters into the longest lives. His 
 struggles to find out the path of duty, his courage in following 
 it as soon as discovered these developed in him a very strong 
 character." "He left us when his soul was firm in its aspira 
 tions after good, when he rejoiced in the freshness of its strength." 
 "You cannot know how thankful I am that Walter was not 
 found wanting in the terrible trial of his faith and courage. I 
 was confident it would be so, when he enlisted. Let us who are 
 left emulate his goodness and faithfulness." 
 
 Touching tribute, from an elder to a younger brother! Beauti 
 ful "farewell," to be breathed from the home of earth to be 
 borne to the Home of Heaven! Blessed the homes that have 
 such to give to country and to God! Blessed the country that 
 has such enrolled among the hosts of her defenders! 
 
 Note 10, page in. The address delivered by Rev. Charles A. 
 Humphreys, Chaplain of the Second Massachusetts Cavalry, at 
 
I 
 
 CAPT. THOMAS B. FOX 
 
NOTES 315 
 
 the funeral of Capt. Thos. B. Fox, Jr., in Dorchester, July 28, 
 1863, was as follows: 
 
 Another hero has fallen. Another lover of his country has 
 sealed his devotion with his life. Let us not weep. The sacri 
 fice was willing. The object was worthy. " The Country" has 
 a more sacred meaning now to many hearts. The life that was, 
 still is; but broader, purer, nobler. Let us not weep for our 
 own loss. He has only exchanged this transient life in mortal 
 flesh, for an eternal life in immortal memories and undying affec 
 tions. His shrine is now in our own hearts. His fitting monu 
 ment is his remembered life. Let us not weep for him. He fought 
 for his country. Who could leave a brighter record? He died 
 for his country. Who could wish a better epitaph? 
 
 The record of his life is simple, but it is the simplicity of purity 
 and nobleness. He needs no written memorial, for his life wrote 
 itself. It was known and read by all who met him. A more 
 open nature I have not known. A casual acquaintance did not, 
 however, see his best qualities. He was so frank that he would 
 not conceal his worst side, and so strong in his conscious integrity 
 that he cared not to put forward his best side. His generosity 
 of spirit, his purity of soul, his devotedness of purpose and his 
 exalted aims; these were not known to all. 
 
 His school life is known to most of you his townsmen. He was 
 always upon the stage in public-school exercises; and you well 
 remember his flashing eye and rich full voice as he caught the 
 spirit of his theme, or declaimed some thrilling passage from the 
 orators that he loved. His college career was brilliant and honor 
 able. As a scholar he took very high rank, one year standing 
 second in a class of a hundred. As a "society man" he had few 
 if any equals. As a debater he was masterly, showing a peculiar 
 fitness for the profession of his choice. As a speaker he was 
 convincing and impressive. He received the highest honor in 
 the gift of his class; being chosen their orator. His classmates 
 of 1860 will miss a genial companion and warm friend, and will 
 mourn the loss of him who has been one of their brightest honors. 
 Yet they cannot but rejoice in the honor of his death as of his 
 life. Captain Fox is the seventh martyr that they have already 
 given to their country. Four have fallen from one regiment- 
 
316 NOTES 
 
 the noble Second Massachusetts Infantry whose record will be 
 none the less brilliant, that its officers have in so large a measure 
 been taken from those who had been trained only in professional 
 pursuits. Harvard shall have no brighter honor than the de 
 votion of her sons to their country s cause, and shall rear no nobler 
 monument than to those who fell in her service. 
 
 But, friends, we do not come to-day to mourn for private 
 griefs or to speak of private honors. The honor and the grief 
 are for us all. Even those who looked on our friend as son and 
 brother do not to-day mourn their private loss. They gave him 
 to his country in the bright promise of his early manhood. He 
 fought bravely in her service. And now that he lies cold and 
 dead, they would have the last sad rites devoted to the same 
 blessed cause. And how fitting! for he, too, would have it so. 
 On earth as we walked together, ofttimes he would unlock to 
 me his deepest soul. But those lips never spoke more persua 
 sively than now, and I seem to see deeper into his spirit than 
 when I grasped his warm hand and gazed into his friendly eyes. 
 Let me give voice to his spirit, as it speaks to me to-day of the 
 duty of loyalty and the beauty of sacrifice. Ah! how thrilling 
 the call to patriotic devotion that comes from the poor dumb 
 mouths of our country s martyrs! With what a terrible force 
 the lesson comes to us from lonely firesides and deserted homes! 
 The voice of our brothers blood cries to us from the ground to 
 learn this lesson quickly, and to learn it well. As a people we 
 have not felt, and do not feel, enough respect and reverence for 
 established authority, and the American pulpit has been remiss 
 in failing to urge this respect and reverence on the ground of 
 moral duty and religious principle. But our soldiers, by their 
 words as well as by their acts, are teaching us more effectively 
 the duty of loyalty. 
 
 I have been with those who left home and friends, the culti 
 vation of literature and the pursuits of peace, to follow in the 
 path of grim-visaged War; who left us with our blessings on their 
 heads; but who through the long months of weary toil and im 
 pending peril have been turning their faces homeward for sym 
 pathy and encouragement only to see the flush of patriotism 
 paling in our cheeks and to hear our words of complaint and faint- 
 
NOTES 317 
 
 heartedness; I have been with those who have learned in the face 
 of death to see things as they are; who dealing with stern realities 
 have caught the power to distinguish sharply the true from the 
 false, and have learned to value that which is founded in the 
 eternal realities; who in the illumination of pure and noble desires 
 to serve their country have seen with clearest vision what that 
 country needs; and these have told me that the great want of 
 this country is loyalty, loyalty founded on a religious conviction 
 of duty. The voice of our country should be to us as the voice 
 of God; and it is to all true souls. 
 
 Some feared that after the first thrill of patriotic devotion, 
 when pain and sacrifice should be seen to be inseparably con 
 nected with devotion to principle, patriotism would then die 
 out. Of course there are craven spirits everywhere and at all 
 times; but the cold form before us starts into life to hurl back 
 the insinuation that patriotism can die out in noble hearts. He 
 left for the war in the midst of disaster to our cause, after the 
 battle of Cedar Mountain, in which his own regiment lost many 
 officers. The last thing he did before leaving was to attend 
 the funeral of Captain Abbott of the Second, his college class 
 mate and friend. But he was cheerful, and only gathered fresh 
 courage from the costly sacrifice. Let us to-day catch some of 
 his spirit. Let us renew our vows of devotion to our country s 
 cause, and if the name of Fatherland cannot move us to patriotic 
 feeling, let the silent eloquence of this wasted life stir us to our 
 duty. 
 
 Wasted life did I say? No! His spirit speaks to me again 
 of the eternal beauty of sacrifice. Nothing worthy is gained but 
 through sacrifice. The world was saved by sacrifice; and our 
 country, baptized in the blood of her noblest sons, shall work out 
 for herself a new salvation and take the path to a higher destiny. 
 I hear him say, 
 
 "O do not falter, peace must come by pain, 
 
 Heaven is not found, but won; 
 Hold the dark angel till he moulds again 
 The peace he hath undone." 
 
 No, brother, we will not falter; while the memory of thy life 
 holds a place in our breasts, we will be true to our country; 
 
318 NOTES 
 
 and inspired by thy noble sacrifice, we too shall dare to die in her 
 defence. But do thou, brother, 
 
 "Go to thy home, at noon, from labor cease; 
 
 Rest on thy sheaves, thy harvest work is done; 
 Come from the heat of battle, and in peace, 
 Soldier, go home; with thee the field is won." 
 
 Notf ii, page 14.6. Lieutenant Amory, paroled in Charleston, 
 September 23, 1864, so far recovered his strength as to return to 
 his regiment at Winchester December 27, 1864, and remained till 
 the end of the war, and passed before Lincoln and Grant in the 
 Grand Review in Washington, and reached his home July 12, 
 1865, supremely thankful that, spite of his sufferings and dis 
 abilities, he could see the war through to its end, and feel that 
 he had some share in its glorious consummation. But the price 
 he had to pay was a lifelong martyrdom of ill health. Yet like a 
 true soldier he never complained, and did what he could, managing 
 large business interests, and from his ample resources helping 
 quietly all good causes. He passed away November 5, 1913, 
 leaving behind him a blessed memory and an honored name. 
 
 Note 12, page 190. In regard to undertaking this labor, the 
 sculptor, Daniel Chester French, wrote me, October 9, 1884, "I 
 am very anxious to do my best in this very important work and 
 on so inspiring a subject as General Lowell and want to do it 
 when I have plenty of time and under the best conditions." 
 When the bust was finished and placed in Memorial Hall he wrote 
 me, March 8, 1886, "I am happily disappointed in the effect of 
 the bust, since it is in position. It looks better than I expected, 
 and is one of the few things of mine upon which I can look without 
 more regret than pleasure." I myself was not greatly surprised 
 at this confession of the sculptor s frequent disappointments, for 
 I knew that his ideals were always far ahead of the possibility of 
 their full expression in the cold marble. Nor was I greatly sur 
 prised at his marvellous success when I considered his conscien 
 tious and patient fidelity, of which I had seen many evidences. 
 One of these he revealed in a letter to me, November 6, 1884, 
 in which he said, "In modelling the bust everything in the shape 
 of a photograph will be valuable, even those taken in childhood 
 
LIEUT. C. W. AMORY; 
 
 Q k I V . 
 
 (; L ((- U U t i. 
 
GEN. CHARLES R. LOWELL 
 
 y/m, J? 
 3 AH? <J Hill, I 
 
NOTES 319 
 
 sometimes furnishing a proof of some doubtful form." But the 
 best proof that I found of the sculptor s success was the satis 
 faction of Mrs. Charles Russell Lowell. It had been quite diffi 
 cult for me to get her permission to have the work done. Of 
 course she saw in her husband a thousand things that no marble 
 could express. But she wrote me February 23, 1885, "It is won 
 derful that Mr. French should have been able to get so much 
 character into the bust, and I am perfectly satisfied to have it re 
 main as a likeness of Colonel Lowell." 
 
 FRAMINGHAM, MARCH 10, 1886. 
 To THE PRESIDENT AND FELLOWS OF HARVARD COLLEGE: 
 
 Gentlemen, In behalf of his fellow-officers of the Second 
 Massachusetts Cavalry Volunteers and other friends of the late 
 Gen. Charles Russell Lowell I have the honor to present to you 
 his portrait-bust, sculptured by Daniel C. French of Concord 
 in Italian marble and now set up in Memorial Hall in the niche 
 kindly assigned by you October 20, 1884. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 CHARLES A. HUMPHREYS. 
 
 The "other friends" spoken of in this formal presentation were 
 John M. Forbes, William Amory, J. Huntington Wolcott, 
 Charles E. Perkins, and Edward W. Emerson. 
 
 A pleasant incident in connection with the photographs of the 
 bust of Lowell was this: I sent one to Col. Robert H. Renshaw, 
 a classmate of Lowell, H. C. 1854, and I directed it to him at the 
 island of Teneriffe, where in 1879 I had last seen him. I was 
 voyaging through those summer isles Fayal, Madeira, and 
 Teneriffe in search of health, and on the latter island in the 
 valley of Orotava I found Renshaw and he invited me to come to 
 his house and, as he said, "take pot luck" with him. His 
 ".pot luck" was dispensed in a banquet of ten most elegant 
 courses, and his hospitality was unbounded. And yet the 
 last time we were near each other he was living on one onion 
 as I have told on page 277 because Sheridan, with whom I then 
 was, had stolen his Uncle Robert * supply-trains. Renshaw 
 
320 NOTES 
 
 married a niece of Gen. Robert E. Lee and was Quartermaster on 
 his staff, and when the war was over his mortification led him to 
 abandon his native land and take refuge in Teneriffe. His de 
 light now in recalling the old college days before the war was most 
 manifest, and I could tell him of the buried animosities and the 
 more strongly cemented Union. At any rate we had a great 
 time clasping hands over the bloody chasm, and when I had 
 photographs taken of the Lowell bust, I decided to send one to 
 Colonel Renshaw at Teneriffe. What was my surprise and 
 gratification when I received from him the following letter! 
 
 RICHMOND, VIRGINIA, 
 
 27th April, 1885. 
 
 Dear Mr. Humphreys, I cannot tell you how much gratified I 
 was last night to receive your kind letter of 4th March enclosing 
 a photograph of the Bust of my old friend Chas. R. Lowell, for 
 which I beg you to accept my most cordial thanks. Your letter 
 was forwarded to me from Teneriffe. I left the Islands in 1882 
 and have since been residing in Virginia where I hope one of these 
 days to have the pleasure of meeting you and showing that 2^ 
 year old Charlie of whom you so kindly speak. Reciprocating 
 your kind wishes and with most cordial regards, 
 Believe me, 
 
 Very Sincerely Yours, 
 
 Robert H. Renshaw. 
 
 Note 13, pages 245-6. This photograph of Lieut. Huntington 
 Frothingham Wolcott is copied from a portrait of him by Wil 
 liam M. Hunt. His younger brother was our honored Governor 
 Roger Wolcott, who thus speaks of the soldier boy: 
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS, 
 EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENT, 
 
 BOSTON, Jan. I2th, 1898. 
 REV. CHARLES A. HUMPHREYS, 
 
 RANDOLPH, MASS. 
 
 My dear Mr. Humphreys, I returned to you yesterday the 
 paper on the battles of Dinwiddie Court House and Five Forks, 
 
LIEUT. HUNTINGTON FROTHINGHAM WOLCOTT 
 
 U k i V . l- 
 C L L ( { C TV U I 
 
NOTES 321 
 
 which you were kind enough to send to me. I read it aloud 
 on Sunday evening to my Mother and our children, and we all 
 found it deeply interesting. It is a most graphic account of 
 those days so full of destiny to the country. They were the 
 times that made men heroes at an age when we should now con 
 sider them hardly more than boys. 
 
 Please accept my thanks, and believe me 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 ROGER WOLCOTT. 
 
 Lines in memory of Lieut. Huntington F. Wolcott by Chap 
 lain Charles A. Humphreys: 
 
 NOT ALL IS LOST 
 
 The look of love, the gentle modest ways 
 That charmed you through his happy childhood s days; 
 Youth s larger hopes, yet self-contained and true, 
 Eager to gird himself life s work to do, 
 These are not lost. 
 
 The manly spirit, and the loyal soul, 
 The daily record writ on honor s scroll, 
 The honest heart on faithfulness intent, 
 The wholesome life in ways of virtue spent, 
 These are not lost. 
 
 The reverent listening to his country s call, 
 The cheerful giving of his strength, his all, 
 The brave farewell to native home and state, 
 The fortitude to meet a soldier s fate, 
 These are not lost. 
 
 Not one is lost. In memory s vista bright, 
 Transfigured all shall rise to clearer light, 
 And things, deep hidden in the day s fierce glow, 
 The night of death shall clear, and you shall know 
 They are not lost. 
 
 [Dedicated to Mr. and Mrs. J. Huntington Wolcott.l 
 
 Note 14, page 284. CASPAR CROWNINSHIELD was born in 
 Boston, October 23, 1837, received his early education in Boston 
 
322 NOTES 
 
 schools, and finished his preparation for college under Rev. 
 William C. Tenney of Northfield, where tales of his magnificent 
 physique and athletic prowess were often repeated with admira 
 tion. 
 
 Entering the class of 1860 at Harvard, he became at once its 
 athletic champion, and on "Bloody Monday," September I, 
 1856, led us Freshmen to victory over the Sophomores, he himself 
 forming the head of a living wedge that clove our confident 
 opponents asunder, and made a way for the ball to be pushed to 
 its goal. This was only the third Freshman victory in the whole 
 history of the college. When I say that in this encounter Caspar 
 Crowninshield was easily the first, it should be noted that of the 
 seventy who lined up behind him, sixty-one had the pluck, 
 five years later, to fight for their country, fifty-one of them as 
 commissioned officers, and on the more bloody fields of war 
 twelve of them laid down their lives, and among them was the 
 hero of Fort Wagner. 
 
 Through our college life, Caspar Crowninshield was stroke oar 
 in a crew that never knew defeat, and on Class Day he was our 
 Chief Marshal. He had been chosen without a question, and 
 bore the honor without a peer. 
 
 After graduation he gave himself to business, till the war broke 
 out, when he at once put himself into training for military service, 
 and accepted a commission as captain in the Twentieth Massa 
 chusetts Infantry. Going to the front in September, the very 
 next month finds him heroically leading a forlorn hope, after 
 the defeat at Ball s Bluff, where, after sending by boat across 
 the river his men who could not swim, he strips off his outer 
 clothing, takes his watch in his mouth and his blanket on his 
 shoulders, and swims across amid a shower of death-dealing 
 bullets. C. B. Brown of the Nineteenth Massachusetts Infantry 
 writes: "About four o clock in the morning, Caspar Crownin 
 shield turned up, in shirt and drawers, with a blanket over his 
 shoulders, after a cold swim across the river. All unite in praising 
 his gallant conduct on the field of battle." 
 
 In another month he followed his special aptitude and his 
 personal inclination, and joined the cavalry, accepting a captaincy 
 in the First Massachusetts, and doing distinguished service with 
 
LIEUT. COL. CASPAR CROWNINSHIELD 
 
 iv i v .. v; i- 
 
 C u L t l r tt. U 
 

NOTES 323 
 
 it in South Carolina and Virginia, till January 30, 1863, when 
 Col. Charles Russell Lowell drew him into the Second Massa 
 chusetts Cavalry, with the offer of the senior majority, and all 
 his subsequent military career was with this regiment, of which 
 he took command as soon as it reached the field, since Colonel 
 Lowell was at once put in command of a brigade, and Lieut. Col. 
 H. S. Russell was on other duty. 
 
 In a career that was always brave and resourceful, it is difficult 
 to pick out special achievements. I have spoken of Ball s Bluff; 
 I will alude to only two others. 
 
 When General Early, in his advance upon Washington, in July, 
 1864, reached its outer defences, and, to his surprise, found them 
 well guarded, he sought at once to save himself by retreat. As 
 it happened, the Second Massachusetts Cavalry was then the 
 only regiment available for pursuit, and it started immediately 
 to harass the enemy. Our advance battalion, led by Colonel 
 Crowninshield, came upon Early s extreme rear guard composed 
 of Jackson s cavalry brigade just beyond Rockville, and charged 
 upon them gallantly. Gen. B. T. Johnson writes: "The 
 Second Massachusetts Cavalry hung upon our rear and made it 
 very uncomfortable for us generally." The flying Confederates 
 were annoyed into many a counter charge, all of which were 
 stoutly repelled. 
 
 The other occasion I would specify was his successful charge at 
 Cedar Creek, after his commander, Lowell, had been mortally 
 wounded in two unsuccessful charges. Crowninshield said: 
 "I never expected to succeed or to get out alive. The enemy s 
 fire was terrific. Compared with it, Ball s Bluff was child s 
 play. But I saw the infantry charging on the right, and I charged 
 and said, God, just take my soul! " 
 
 General Crowninshield was never wounded, though often 
 under fire. Twice he saved himself by swimming, once at Ball s 
 Bluff and once at the North Anna River. On this latter occasion 
 he showed his quickness to meet an emergency. Following 
 Sheridan in his raid round Richmond, in March, 1865, we came to 
 the river after dark, being ourselves near the end of a column that 
 was ten miles long. All before had passed over in safety. But 
 in the darkness we missed the ford, as we were only guided by 
 
324 NOTES 
 
 the horses in front of us, and they had gradually been pushed down 
 stream by the force of the current, and when we came to cross we 
 struck deep water and our horses had to swim. In the confusion 
 many a horse and rider went down to his death. I was pushed 
 from my horse and trodden down to the bottom of the river. 
 Managing to wriggle away from the struggling mass, I shouted, 
 as soon as I rose to the surface, "Where is Colonel Crownin- 
 shield?" thinking he had, perhaps, met a worse fate than myself. 
 But there was no reply. I soon, however, discovered that, in 
 order to save the others from a watery grave, he swam to the 
 shore and found the ford, and set lights to guide the rest of the 
 column. Strange that no one else had thought of that necessity 
 for their safety. If my Colonel was never wounded, I know he 
 was spattered with mud by a. shell that, fortunately, refused to 
 burst, for I was standing with him, on the morning of Lee s 
 surrender, when the last shell that was ever fired from a Rebel 
 battery fell harmless at our feet. 
 
 I do not trust myself to speak of the proud admiration and 
 affectionate regard I felt for my classmate and my Colonel. He 
 was one of the most lovable of men, simple as a child, but brave 
 as a hero. Sheridan said of him: "He is very near to me in 
 feeling and sympathy. I like him very much. He has a noble 
 nature and a true patriotism." 
 
 He was "one of those whose faith and truth on war s red 
 touchstone rang true metal." One of those loyal souls who felt 
 
 " Tis man s perdition to be safe 
 When for the truth he ought to die." 
 
 Faithful soldier, we bid you welcome to your well-earned 
 rest. 
 
 Brevet Brig. Gen. Caspar Crowninshield died in Boston, 
 January 10, 1897. 
 
 Note 75, page 284. William Hathaway Forbes was born in 
 Milton, Mass., November i, 1840; Second Lieutenant, First 
 Massachusetts Cavalry, December 26, 1861; First Lieutenant, 
 July 27, 1862; Captain, Second Massachusetts Cavalry, January 
 14, 1863; Major, May 12, 1863; taken prisoner at Aldie, Va., 
 
NOTES 325 
 
 July 6, 1864; Lieutenant Colonel, October 21, 1864; mustered 
 out, May 15, 1865; died October n, 1897. 
 
 This is the skeleton-record which I would like to clothe in 
 flesh and blood, and make to live again. But how can I picture 
 that manly form with its distinguished bearing, that fair face 
 with its lofty look, that elastic step quick on errands of service, 
 that winning presence that drew all hearts? And when I would 
 look within at the pure spirit and the generous soul, I am pre 
 vented by the thought of his modesty from saying all I would 
 like of his worth, and he was so close to me through the most 
 trying scenes that I dare not trust myself to speak my love for 
 him. I can only utter a few simple words of happy remembrance 
 of his youth s patriotic devotion. 
 
 He was an unspoiled favorite of fortune; and, outwardly, had 
 everything to lose by going to the war. But his spirit of knightly 
 chivalry had not been smothered under the love of pleasure and 
 power that wealth frequently fosters. He saw, beyond the 
 fields where men delve for greed and gold, the heights of heroism 
 where men die for country and honor, and "what he dared to 
 dream of, he dared to do." 
 
 "When I remember with what buoyant heart, 
 Midst war s alarms and woes of civil strife, 
 In youthful eagerness thou didst depart 
 At peril of thy safety, peace, and life, 
 Ne er from thyself by Fortune fair beguiled, 
 I name thee to the world Stern Duty s Faithful Child." 
 
 He was one of these heroic men who, in the trial of battle, was 
 ready to lay bare against the hostile bayonet his own fearless 
 breast. At Aldie, when his command was scattered and the 
 day was lost, he would not yield the field, but charged alone 
 against the on-rushing line of the enemy, pierced with his sabre 
 one at least of the Rebel officers, and would not surrender till he 
 was pinned to the ground under his own fallen horse. 
 
 " To front a lie in arms, and not to yield, 
 This shows, methinks, God s plan 
 And measure of a stalwart man, 
 Limbed like the old heroic breeds, 
 Fed from within with all the strength he needs." 
 
326 NOTES 
 
 He was, indeed, "fed from within." 
 
 "His strength was as the strength of ten 
 Because his heart was pure." 
 
 "All the ends he aimed at, were his country s, his God s, and 
 truth s." 
 
 "He followed Truth, and found her 
 With danger s sweetness round her. 
 And he, our brother, fought for her, 
 At life s dear peril wrought for her, 
 So loved her he would die for her." 
 
 How near he often came to death on the field by the chance of 
 the unseen bullet, no one can say; but I know of the fierce intent 
 of the barely escaped sabre-thrust, and of the almost unendurable 
 tortures of hope-deferred amid the exposures and starvation of 
 southern prisons. Twice he was taken out and told that he would 
 be exchanged, and twice he was brought back to what seemed a 
 living death. Yet he kept up good courage, even after both his 
 messmates were released before him, and patiently endured 
 unto the end, sustained by invisible trusts. Seldom did he close 
 his eyes to try to sleep on the floor of the work-house or the earth 
 of the prison-pen, without leading us in singing that sweet song, 
 from Der Freischutz, whose adapted words are not only a hymn 
 of trust, but also a prayer of faith: 
 
 "When o er the western hills the sunset tints blending 
 
 Show us how quickly fades all that on earth is bright, 
 Then to unfading realms our prayer is ascending 
 God of the fatherless, guide us, guard us to-night." 
 
 Of him Emerson s words seem most fitting: 
 
 "There is no record left on earth, 
 Save in tablets of the heart, 
 Of the rich inherent worth, 
 Of the grace that on him shone, 
 Of eloquent lips, of joyful wit; 
 He could not frame a word unfit, 
 An act unworthy to be done. 
 Honor prompted every glance; 
 Honor came and sat beside him. 
 
NOTES 327 
 
 If we call them heroes who fell on the field, amid all the sus 
 taining inspirations of glorious war, how much more heroic is he, 
 who, having passed bravely through the perils of the fight, bears 
 uncomplainingly, month after month, the unspeakable horrors 
 of Confederate prisons, and then, year after year, the hardly- 
 concealed marks of their blighting touch. Not all the heroes 
 died in battle. A finer heroism may still live on in those who, 
 through weary decades, have borne about with enfeebled 
 strength the dread entail of war s exposures. 
 
 Yes, thou true and noble soul, we honor equally the courage 
 with which you went out to fight, and the fortitude with which 
 you came home to endure. 
 
 "Hail! and farewell! thine earthly work doth cease; 
 
 Rest on thy sheaves, thy harvest toil is done; 
 Come from life s well-fought battle, and in peace, 
 Soldier, go home, for thee the field is won." 
 
 Our lessening ranks bring us together closer, shoulder to shoul 
 der, and make more precious the remembered heroisms of a life like 
 that of Forbes. God make us all as noble, and keep us all 
 as true. 
 
 "O beautiful! my Country! 
 Among the nations bright beyond compare, 
 What were our lives without thee? 
 What all our lives to save thee? 
 We reck not what we gave thee; 
 We will not dare to doubt thee, 
 But ask whatever else, and we will dare." 
 
 The father of William Hathaway Forbes was John Murray 
 Forbes, and we called him "The Father of our Regiment," be 
 cause he did so much for us. So I will add here a short sketch 
 of his patriotic labors. 
 
 John Murray Forbes died at Milton October twelfth, eighteen 
 hundred ninety-eight, in the eighty-sixth year of his age. 
 
 Of this long life, filled as it was with honorable labors, I may 
 speak of those only that concerned the country s welfare in the 
 Civil War. But merely to name them would fill volumes. I can 
 mention only a few, as illustrations of numberless patriotic labors 
 to which he gave his strong intellect and his sympathetic heart. 
 
328 NOTES 
 
 Before the war he did what he could to avert the strife, and 
 became one of the Peace Commissioners, seeking to bring about 
 a reconciliation. Failing in that, he gave himself with utter 
 devotion to the suppression of rebellion. He planned with 
 General Scott for the saving of Fort Sumter, but their efforts 
 came to naught through the treachery of high officials. Not dis 
 couraged, he gave himself to any unpaid and unofficial service 
 that promised relief to the country in its dire distress. Was the 
 path of Abraham Lincoln to the White House beset with Rebel 
 plots, Forbes is foremost in making futile their snares. Was the 
 path of Governor Andrew, in his preparations for war, beset with 
 innumerable difficulties, Forbes removed the heaviest of them by 
 assuming responsibility in untried situations, and pledging sup 
 port where state funds were lacking. Did the war find us with 
 out a navy, Forbes planned the equipment of the merchant 
 marine into an effective arm for striking strong blows at rebellion. 
 Did English sympathy with the South imperil the foreign opera 
 tions of the national treasury, Forbes must be sent abroad to 
 check Rebel plans, and sustain our government s credit. Did the 
 heart of Massachusetts agonize at the slow recognition of the 
 manhood of the negro and the opportunity for his soldierly 
 succor, Forbes must be sent to Washington to put more conscience 
 and common sense into military plans. Did the heart of the 
 North bleed for the sufferings of her soldiers in Rebel prisons, 
 Forbes pours streams of gold into the hands of the Commissioners 
 of Exchange in the hope that some of it would filter through the 
 hands of the prison-keepers to their starving victims. When I 
 was released at Fort Sumter, in 1864, I found unlimited gold 
 awaiting me to be used to relieve my messmates left behind. 
 When I reached my home nearly exhausted with prison ex 
 posures and starvation, that paradise of Naushon with its warmer 
 than English hospitality was thrown wide open to me to recruit 
 in, and the generous hearts that had welcomed there the artist 
 Hunt and the poet Whittier, Holmes the wit and Emerson the 
 philosopher, thought nothing too good for even the humblest 
 soldier. No day passed in that island home without some work 
 for the army. The waysides were stripped of the floss of the 
 milkweed to make pads and pillows to ease the wounds of the 
 
NOTES 329 
 
 soldiers in the hospitals, and nimble needles plied day and night 
 to knit warm coverings for the exposed pickets. I wonder that 
 there was a horse left in the stalls; for Mr. Forbes, besides sup 
 plying many of us cavalrymen with an outfit, insisted on supplying 
 our losses in the field, and our Colonel had thirteen horses shot 
 under him in a campaign of two months. 
 
 I cannot stop to speak of the inspiration of his personal visits 
 to our camp, nor of the immeasurable beneficence of his charities, 
 that did not cease with the close of the war, but have through 
 thirty years and more smoothed the weary path of many a dis 
 abled veteran. 
 
 I would like to tell of Mr. Forbes in other relations than as the 
 friend of the soldier, of his keen foresight in business, the 
 .balanced wisdom of his practical counsels, his forceful cham 
 pionship of political purity, and of the numberless streams of his 
 benevolence, only exceeded in beauty by the modesty with which 
 they were poured forth. It would be a delight to draw aside, for a 
 moment, the veil of his lovely home-life; but I must be satisfied 
 here with celebrating in my honored friend his supreme fidelity to 
 that strenuous strain of loyalty in his ancestral traditions drawn 
 from generations of Highland chiefs, that gave to us a patriotism 
 broader and finer than the devotion of any Scottish clan, and a 
 helpfulness larger and richer than any Old-World beneficence. 
 
 Of Mr. Forbes I may say as Milton did of Lycidas: 
 
 "His fame grows not on merely mortal soil, 
 Nor in the glistering foil 
 Set off to the world, nor in broad rumor lies; 
 But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes 
 And perfect witness of all-judging Jove 
 As he pronounces lastly on each deed 
 Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed." 
 
 Note 16, page 292. In Memoriam Ulysses S. Grant: A Dis 
 course preached at First Parish Church, Framingham, Mass., 
 Sunday, August 9, 1885, by Rev. Charles A. Humphreys: 
 "He that humbleth himself shall be exalted." LUKE xiv. n. 
 
 As I recall that marvellous career which yesterday ended in a 
 march of triumph to the tomb, the one characteristic that rises 
 
330 NOTES 
 
 most frequently upon the attention and the one key that offers 
 a solution of its marvel is humility. 
 
 "Nearest the throne of God must be 
 The footstool of humility," 
 
 and the highest earthly throne that this age has seen reared in 
 the sight of the world was reached by the humblest of men, by 
 a man who was willing to take the second place, indeed, to loss 
 himself in a cause, to sink his own aspirations in loyalty to his 
 country s need. The minds of the people are now filled with the 
 exaltation that he attained, with the honors that have been 
 so heaped upon him in these later years that a National Museum 
 has been found their only fitting depository; with that triumphal 
 journey round the world, a journey such as no other man, be he 
 king or conqueror, ever made, all the greatest of earth s potentates 
 receiving him as a peer and all the peoples pouring adulation at 
 his feet; and now with that last journey that draws the whole 
 nation into uncovered ranks of silent grief to line the lifeless 
 body s pathway to the grave, and wakes a universal requiem 
 whose mournful cadence sweeps, not only through every city and 
 village of this land, but whose far-away echoes are heard in Eng 
 land s ancient Abbey, nor will they cease till they circle with sad 
 but admiring remembrance the circumference of the globe. But 
 let me lead your thoughts away from this unparalleled exaltation 
 to a humility as peerless, and find the key to this marvellous 
 fame in a no less marvellous simplicity. For this man, who in 
 1880 strode "the earth like a colossus," in 1860 found "none so 
 poor to do him reverence." The man who in 1865 let fall his 
 mailed hand, like the hammer of Thor, and with one blow crushed 
 the giant, Rebellion, in 1861 could not get even a hearing for his 
 request to serve in any lowest position. For five years previous to 
 1860 Grant s life was a seeming failure. He had put his hand to 
 the plough, but failed to wring a satisfactory subsistence from the 
 earth. He had put his mind to business with as little success; 
 and, when the war broke out, he was sweeping out a leather store, 
 and running on errands, or making a poor attempt at a bargain 
 behind the counter. Who could have imagined in this leather- 
 seller of Galena the making of the greatest captain of the age? 
 
NOTES 331 
 
 Yet the elements were all there, and chief among them was 
 humility. For had he not already a record of which he might 
 be proud? Had he not, a youth of twenty-four, thrown himself 
 into the deadly breach at Palo Alto, and been promoted twice 
 for gallantry at Molino del Rey and Chapultepec, and mentioned 
 in all the dispatches for distinguished conduct at the capture of 
 the City of Mexico? In this last action, Grant exhibited some 
 of his, afterward famed, characteristics. In the advance upon the 
 city, the vanguard came upon a parapet that obstructed the way, 
 and, finding themselves exposed to its raking fire, all sought 
 such shelter as they could find, except Lieutenant Grant, who, 
 regardless of danger, personally reconnoitred the position, and 
 soon returned and called out, "Captain, I ve found a way to 
 flank the enemy," and the captain replied, "Well, go on, we ll 
 follow." And the work was carried. From this first flank 
 movement, with a handful of men, to those masterly marchings 
 by the left flank that pushed Lee and his sixty thousand Con 
 federates from the Rapidan to Richmond, and that last flank 
 movement that drew Lee out of Richmond into the open 
 country to be cut up piecemeal by Sheridan s cavalry and to be 
 utterly blocked at Appomattox, Grant s strategy was ever the 
 same, a bold front and, at the same time, a move for a better 
 position. 
 
 And, in this advance upon the City of Mexico, Grant showed 
 his fertility of resource at critical moments. To guard the 
 approach to one of the strongest gates, a parapet had been 
 thrown forward and a cannon mounted upon it. There was no 
 possible way to flank it; but Grant instantly conceived, and 
 speedily carried out, the extraordinary plan of seizing a neigh 
 boring church and mounting a howitzer in the belfry, and his 
 own hand trained the gun that drove the enemy from the 
 parapet, and in a few hours opened the way for the entrance 
 of our victorious arms. 
 
 But, spite of these signal achievements and these brilliant 
 openings into military glory, the young captain left the army, 
 and seemed just as content with obscurity as with acting before 
 the eyes of the nation. All truly great men are willing to bide 
 their time, for they are humble before the majestic and inscrutable 
 
332 NOTES 
 
 march of destiny; and most great men have had years of ripen 
 ing in obscurity before they entered into the full fruitage of grand 
 achievement. So Grant had his seven years of growth in secret; 
 and, because he was humble, it became a natural and vigorous 
 growth. In these years, he laid deep and secure the foundations 
 of his after success. His seeming failures knit the fibres of his 
 patience till they became withes of steel. His lack of friendly 
 help taught him self-reliance, and his poverty, to be content with 
 a little. A humble man can learn of calamity, while a proud 
 man will be wearing himself away against the bosses of the 
 Almighty s shield. Grant s character deepened and broadened 
 in his unhonored obscurity. Amid "the slings and arrows of 
 outrageous fortune," he was as cool and patient as under the 
 leaden rain of the hostile musketry. If he did not succeed in 
 one effort, he calmly set about another. If he could not push 
 forward in a given line of labor, he turned to another without 
 losing heart or hope. By reason of his quietness of manner and 
 modesty of assumption, those about him could not suspect his 
 abilities. He did not suspect them himself, for his time was not 
 yet come. 
 
 Upon this humble leather-seller of Galena, now thirty-nine 
 years of age, one April morning flashed the glare of Sumter s 
 beleaguered guns. It lit in his heart, as in so many others, a fresh 
 flame of loyalty; and, like so many others, he threw himself for 
 all he was worth into the scale of the country s salvation. What 
 that worth was he little knew, although he might even now have 
 been justified in holding it at a high valuation. But his genuine 
 modesty kept his own estimate well within the circle of sure ac 
 complishment, and he offered his services to the government in 
 any lowest capacity; but, while waiting for the answer that 
 never came, he wasted not one moment, but turned, as was his 
 nature, to do what he could, and that was to drill a company. 
 Thus began that humble service which, step by step, in rapid 
 but sure upward progress, led him to the loftiest power. In May, 
 he commanded a company; in June, a regiment; in July, a bri 
 gade; in August, a division; and in less than nine months he 
 was a Major General, had command of the largest military divi 
 sion in the country, and had won at Fort Donelson the first sub- 
 
NOTES 333 
 
 stantial victory for the Union arms. And yet every step of this 
 promotion was unsought, was, indeed, thrust upon him by the 
 necessities of the situation. By the upward gravitation of his 
 personal achievement, he reached such heights of power as he 
 was best fitted to command. No career was ever less controlled 
 by luck. He moved like a fate to his destined end, and with the 
 least possible friction; for, if his humility kept him from grasp 
 ing at power, it also made him willing to take a responsibility that 
 he knew how to fill. Thus, the truest humility nourishes the 
 noblest self-reliance and the strongest self-assertion. Though 
 you would not press yourself forward, you can dare anything for 
 duty. Though you would not lift a finger to defend yourself, 
 you would stand like a rock for your country. So Grant modestly 
 took such responsibilities as he found he could fulfil, and never 
 stopped in his pursuit of enemies to take any of the prizes of honor 
 held out by his friends. Thus, after Vicksburg capitulated on 
 the 4th of July, 1863, making the largest surrender of men and 
 material that modern warfare had seen, Grant did not set about 
 having, as well he might, a 4th of July glorification, but at once 
 prepared to use the new confidence of victory in pushing the 
 enemy with fresh vigor. So, when Richmond fell, it did not 
 occur to him, as it would have to most commanders, to make a 
 grand parade of entrance into the city; but he at once moved to 
 the left to capture the retreating Confederates. And, at the 
 surrender of Appomattox, when, after four years of Herculean 
 effort and untold sacrifices on the part of the North, the giant 
 form of rebellion lay prostrate at his feet, Grant would not 
 make any parade of surrender, would not cast upon the con 
 quered one shadow of humiliation, but, with a generosity akin to 
 the divine pity, at once spread a table before him in the presence 
 of his enemies, and said, Arise, and eat! Well has it been said, 
 
 "His sword s bright conquests pale beneath 
 Its mercy, when it sought its sheath." 
 
 I think none of you will suspect me of vindictiveness, and yet 
 I will confess to a momentary sense of disappointment, shared 
 indeed by nearly all the Union troops, when the order came for 
 us to turn homeward without any of the dramatic formalities of 
 
334 NOTES 
 
 surrender. I had not forgotten the picture in the school history 
 that had fired my boyish imagination by its portrayal of the 
 surrender of Lord Cornwallis, and it seemed to me that this was 
 a grander occasion and a more famous victory. But our thought 
 was unworthy, and our vision was short-sighted. Grant, how 
 ever, with a marvellous greatness of soul that took in the broad 
 perspective of the years, said: "No! They are once more our 
 countrymen." And, as he rode through our lines and the artil 
 lery began to pour forth their salutations in his honor, he ordered 
 the salvos to cease, lest they should wound the feelings of the 
 prisoners, thus not only exhibiting his own magnanimity, but 
 laying the foundation for that reconstruction of the relations 
 between the North and the South which has obliterated all 
 sectional feeling, and to-day shows us one country, from 
 Maine to the Gulf and from ocean to ocean, mourning alike 
 our hero dead. 
 
 It may be well to recall here General Lee s own impression of 
 what I will call the sublimest act of Grant s military life. He 
 said: "I wish to do simple justice to General Grant, when I say 
 that his treatment of the Army of Northern Virginia at its sur 
 render is without a parallel in the history of the civilized world. 
 When my poor soldiers had nothing to eat, he issued the humane 
 order that forty thousand rations should be immediately fur 
 nished them. When I was directing one of my staff to make out 
 a list of things to be surrendered, and named the horses, Grant 
 said: No, no, General Lee, not a horse! the men will need them 
 for the spring ploughing. When Grant said that my officers 
 might retain their side arms, again I was thankful; but, when he 
 disclaimed any desire to make a parade of surrender, I was 
 indeed overjoyed, and felt that that was a touch of magnanimity 
 that bespoke a great soul." Great soul, indeed! How, in the 
 perspective of the years and before the levelling of death, thy 
 act of generous humility stands out in surpassing grandeur 
 beyond any possible glory of victorious triumph! 
 
 It is worth remembering, to the supreme credit of Grant, that 
 he persisted in maintaining these generous terms, even against 
 the determined efforts of his superior, Secretary Stanton; and 
 that, when Charles Sumner led a committee of the Senate in asking 
 
NOTES 335 
 
 him to allow his picture to be painted in a proposed historical 
 portrayal of the surrender, Grant, with a fine sense of propriety 
 and a truer humility, again said: "No: they are our brothers. 
 Let us not perpetuate their humiliation!" And he kept to the 
 end this generous magnanimity; and even in that last fearful 
 fight with malignant disease, when every moment was torture, 
 and every effort was, as he said, one more nail in his coffin, he 
 took pains to write this message, "It has been an inestimable 
 blessing to me that my life has been prolonged till I have seen 
 for myself the happy harmony between those who but a few 
 short years ago were engaged in mortal conflict." And he made 
 this his farewell message, which, like Washington s farewell 
 address, went straight to the hearts of the people, "Let every 
 man look henceforth to the prosperity of a united country." 
 
 No wonder the Southern heart responded with peculiar ear 
 nestness. As one of their journals beautifully says: "Those on 
 whose downfall the temple of his fame was builded will sow no 
 thorns on his grave to prick the violets planted there." 
 
 But besides this generous magnanimity to his country s foes, 
 this self-forgetting devotion to his country s good, Grant s humil 
 ity nourished also the noblest self-reliance and the strongest 
 self-assertion; and let us now turn to see how he exhibited these 
 his most famous qualities. I know of nothing in military annals 
 to compare with Grant s pertinacity of purpose, his iron deter 
 mination, his immovable confidence of success. The old Scot 
 tish clan which claims General Grant as its most noted descend 
 ant had for its war-cry, "Stand fast, Craig Ellachie." It seems 
 as if a happy genius had at every great crisis of Grant s career 
 whispered to his silent soul the same old cry, "Stand fast, thou 
 crag." And he stood fast. When, on reaching the field at Fort 
 Donelson, he found that his right flank had been crushed, he 
 said at once to his generals, "Gentlemen, this position must be 
 retaken." And when that was done, and his troops came face 
 to face with the frowning parapets behind which was a force 
 stronger than his own, he thought not of the possibility of failure, 
 and said to General Buckner, who asked his terms: "I have no 
 terms but unconditional surrender. I propose to move at once 
 upon your works." At Shiloh, when his troops had been defeated 
 
336 NOTES 
 
 and driven back to the river, and General Buell said to him: 
 "What preparations have you made for retreat? These trans 
 ports will not take ten thousand men across the river, and we 
 have thirty thousand," Grant replied, "I have not despaired of 
 whipping them yet; and, if they whip me and I have to cross the 
 river, ten thousand is all I shall need transports for." And 
 he gave orders to assume the offensive in the morning. So it 
 was in many a fight. When both sides seemed exhausted, Grant 
 would go at it again, and win the advantage. 
 
 After Shiloh, Grant passed through the severest and most 
 depressing period of his fortunes. But it only brought out into 
 stronger relief the sublime patience of his resolve to serve his 
 country to the uttermost, whether he himself rose or fell. When 
 Sherman wrote him, "You have richly earned promotion," Grant 
 replied, "I care nothing for rank, so long as our arms are suc 
 cessful." A very short time before Vicksburg, it seemed as if 
 the jealousy of one of his superiors in rank, and the distrust of 
 many of his subordinates, and the despondency of the whole 
 country would make Grant the scapegoat of their envy and 
 despair, and drive him from his command. But he was saved 
 to the country by Lincoln s sturdy sense, which detected the 
 staying quality of the General s determination; and, when he 
 was urged to depose Grant, he said, in his homely but meaningful 
 way, "I rather like the man: I think we ll try him a little longer." 
 That little longer gave us Vicksburg, and satisfied the country 
 that to this silent General it could anchor as to a rock. " Stand 
 fast, thou crag," the country then replied. Thus, Grant came 
 to the throne of his power by the simple logic of necessity. It 
 was the time when war had ceased to be a play of politicians at 
 Washington or a masterly inactivity of generals at the front; 
 when the farce of a holiday parade had been enacted, and the 
 first scenes of the fearful tragedy had already begun, and the 
 people were ready for the boundless sacrifice. Then there was 
 need of a leader like Grant, who, at his very first battle at Bel- 
 mont, on being surrounded, burned his camps behind him, and 
 said, "I guess we can cut our way out as we cut our way in"; 
 and who, at Vicksburg, cut himself away from his base of sup 
 plies, and, leaving in his rear a larger army of the enemy than his 
 
NOTES 337 
 
 own, turned with a sublime effrontery to strike the army that was 
 coming to relieve Vicksburg, and then turned back and accom 
 plished the surrender. In battles where Southern desperation 
 was likely to weigh equally at least with Northern loyalty, 
 Grant s personal qualities determined largely the successful 
 result. He had a force of will that could turn obstacles into 
 helps. He moved with the assurance of destiny to the accom 
 plishment of his purposes. After he had, at Vicksburg, opened 
 the mighty Mississippi till it "rolled unvexed to the sea," he 
 took command of all the Western armies, and rolled them toward 
 Chattanooga in resistless tide, till they surged up even to the 
 clouds, and on Missionary Ridge and Lookout Mountain over 
 whelmed rebellion. Then, coming East, how he stood before 
 Washington like the "shadow of a great rock in a weary land," 
 giving us the confidence that the uttermost would be done to 
 crush the country s foes! With what tremendous energy he 
 started on that fearful campaign which in a month disabled fifty 
 thousand of his men, and left its gory track from the Wilderness 
 to Cold Harbor! To the people of the North, he seemed like a 
 grim viking ordering each day a fresh skull of blood for his 
 butcher s feast. And he was called a butcher. But we who 
 followed him knew that he was as tender as a woman, and that 
 he regretted every drop of heroic sacrifice. There was no way 
 but this. Lee was too skilful himself to be conquered by brilliant 
 manoeuvres. What was needed was hard blows and constant 
 wearing away of the armies of the rebellion. To this, Grant 
 bent the whole force of his giant energies. After the Wilderness, 
 when everybody else was discouraged and feared to uncover 
 the way to Washington, Grant said: "If Lee is in my rear, I am 
 in his." "I propose to fight it out on this line, if it takes all 
 summer," and, having made his dispositions for the morrow, 
 "went to his tent and slept soundly till morning." All through 
 these thirty days of battle, with their appalling spectacles of 
 suffering and their terrible losses, he never wavered nor thought 
 of retiring. When Burnside reported, in the fearful struggle at 
 Spottsylvania, that he had lost connection with Hancock, Grant 
 sent this response, "Push the enemy: that is the best way to 
 connect." When General Lee was told, after the repulse of the 
 
338 NOTES 
 
 Union troops at Cold Harbor, that Grant was in retreat, he 
 replied: "That cannot be true. Grant never retreats." And 
 it was so. While giving these crippling blows to the Confeder 
 ate Army, Grant, by his daily movements to the left, got into 
 the position he desired for turning the flank of all the armies de 
 fending Richmond; and, at Petersburg, he planted himself like 
 a mighty rock beetling toward the raging rebel sea, and saying, 
 "Thus far and no farther, and here shall thy proud waves be 
 stayed." And they were stayed. And so this mighty man of 
 war conquered an enduring peace; and, when he took off his 
 mailed glove, his hand was as soft as a child s. "His strength 
 was as the strength of ten, because his heart was pure." Be 
 cause he humbled himself, he subdued, not only the rebel arms, 
 but the rebel hearts; and, because he was willing to become at 
 once a simple citizen, the people lifted him upon a throne of 
 highest exaltation, not with the Caesars and Napoleons, who 
 have waded through blood to empire, but with the Washingtons, 
 who have taken the sword reluctantly and sheathed it gladly, 
 who in danger have borne calmly upon their shoulders the desti 
 nies of mighty States, who have loved to serve their country 
 more than their own advancement. 
 
 I cannot stop to recount Grant s victories of peace, no less 
 renowned than those of war: his defence of the financial integ 
 rity of the government, not less heroic, amid the sophistries and 
 temptations of the hour and against the oppositions of good men, 
 than his supreme assumption of responsibility amid the repulses 
 and perils of the Wilderness campaign; nor that other grander 
 victory which signalized his civil administration, the treaty of 
 Washington, which will some time lead the world to the arbitra 
 ments of peace. Nor can I stop to recall that grander victory 
 still, that serene mastery of himself in disease and death that 
 has fitly crowned his earthly triumphs: 
 
 "Life s closing scenes without a stain, 
 His death-march trod through fiery pain, 
 With heart unmoved: how these unroll 
 Heroic grandeurs of the soul 
 In victories whose lessons stand 
 A light and promise to the land!" 
 
NOTES 339 
 
 Thus, I have traced the grand and imposing qualities that blaze 
 out before the world s admiring gaze to their silent, secret source 
 in humility of spirit. No self-love blurred Grant s intuitions of 
 duty. No worldly considerations ever rose up to block the 
 path of his loyal devotion. When General Sherman wrote to 
 Grant in 1864, congratulating him on his appointment as 
 Lieutenant General, he spoke thus, with the spirit of a true 
 prophet: "You are now Washington s legitimate successor, and 
 occupy a position of almost dangerous elevation. But, if you 
 can continue as heretofore to be yourself, simple, honest, and 
 unpretending, you will enjoy through life the respect and love 
 of friends, and the homage of millions of your countrymen." 
 That prophecy has been more than fulfilled. Grant did keep 
 his simplicity to the very height of his power. When he com 
 manded a million men in arms, he did not lift himself above the 
 humblest in the ranks. On the occasion of a journey from 
 Culpeper to Washington, just before he was to set in motion the 
 colossal enginery of war, a special car was assigned to him and 
 his staff; but, when he saw the guard keeping out the common 
 soldiers who, with their leaves of absence, were pressing for a 
 chance to ride to Washington, he said, "I occupy but one seat 
 in this car, let as many as can come in." And he shared his seat 
 with a private all the way to Alexandria. 
 
 Grant had also that finest quality of greatness which appre 
 ciates greatness in others. He said, "I never flattered myself 
 that I was entitled to the first place: the men whom I selected 
 for lieutenants could, I believe, often have filled my place better 
 than I did." 
 
 Friends, am I not right in making humility the finest aroma of 
 that most famous life? We read in the Old Testament that 
 when Huldah, the prophetess, came to King Josiah, whose 
 merciful and popular reign had revived Jewish loyalty and re 
 established the ancient glory of the Hebrew state, she said, 
 "Thus saith Jehovah, Because thine heart was tender, and thou 
 hast humbled thyself before the Lord, therefore thou shalt be 
 gathered to thy grave in peace." Again has that prophecy been 
 fulfilled, and the greatest soldier has become the truest messenger 
 of peace. 
 
340 NOTES 
 
 Last evening, as the slant rays of the declining sun threw 
 their sheen over the Hudson and up the bluff by the Riverside, 
 a soldier s bugle sounded over the great Captain s grave the call 
 to sleep. To-day, in the proud hearts of a nation saved, he rises 
 to live again and forever. 
 
 "His battles fought, his duties done, 
 His country s life by valor won, 
 That call was but a reveille 
 To wake to immortality." 
 
TRIBUTES 
 
 I 
 ORATION 
 
 AT THE DEDICATION OF THE SOLDIERS MONU 
 MENT IN DORCHESTER, SEPTEMBER 17, 
 1867, BY REV. CHARLES A. HUMPHREYS. 
 
 FRIENDS AND FELLOW-CITIZENS: 
 
 As we stand under the shadow of this monu 
 ment which we dedicate to-day, its silent 
 pointing to the heavens, its voiceless record of 
 noble names, remind us that our theme is 
 beyond the power of words to portray, and that 
 silence is here the most fitting eloquence. 
 All great things are silent, the eternal hills, 
 the ocean in its depths. They have no speech 
 nor language; yet their peaceful stillness is 
 more eloquent than the roar of tempests at the 
 surface, or the blast of winds at their summit. 
 So this silent orator tells more eloquently of 
 the grand achievements and the glorious deeds 
 
342 TRIBUTES 
 
 of our heroes than any spoken eulogy that 
 mortal lips can frame. How impressive is its 
 simple silence! It bears no record of the 
 valor of our soldiers; it lavishes no praise on 
 their patriotic devotion; it does not even name 
 the bloody fields where one and another laid 
 down their precious lives; but so long as this 
 shaft shall stand, so long as its stony finger shall 
 point to the open heavens, so long shall it 
 tell the story of their sacrifice, and point the 
 passers-by to those lofty and divine principles 
 of liberty from which they drew their courage 
 and their strength. 
 
 It is a high and sacred duty that we this day 
 fulfil. It is not only our martyr brothers that 
 we honor by this memorial, but also ourselves. 
 By it, we pledge ourselves to a like devotion. 
 If we honor them because they died that the 
 nation might live, let us show our sincerity 
 by so living that the nation may have more 
 abundant life. Let us not excuse ourselves by 
 saying that we cannot of ourselves do much. 
 It was not with such faint-heartedness that they 
 girt on their armor. Our little band of martyrs 
 could not save the nation; yet they gave what 
 they could, and all they could, to the common 
 cause, and so are equal sharers of the common 
 triumph. It is the noble distinction of our 
 country not only that the people can rule it, 
 
IN HONOR OF THE CITIZEN SOLDIERS OF DORCHESTER 
 
 WHO FELL IN THE WAR OF THE REBELLION, 
 
 1861-1865 
 
 ,1 i J ? u ;; jJ J ,] 
 
TRIBUTES 343 
 
 but that they alone can save it. Imperial 
 Rome could not live without her Caesar. 
 Alexander yielded to his successors the em 
 pire of half the world; but without him, it 
 could not keep its integrity. All the ancient 
 dynasties crumbled with the ashes of their 
 leaders. The supremacy of modern European 
 nations depends chiefly on the diplomacy of a 
 few. Bismarck builds a mighty kingdom on 
 the ruins of the German Confederation, while 
 France loses caste with the duplicity of Na 
 poleon, and England comes to a standstill 
 with the obstinate selfishness of her ministry: 
 but our nation can decline only with the decline 
 of public virtue, and can live only in the life of 
 the people. Our hundred martyrs are only a 
 handful compared with the hundreds of 
 thousands of victims offered on the altar of 
 the country; yet each of them fought for the 
 nation and not for any leader, and in each one s 
 sacrifice the nation found salvation. It is not 
 presumption then, but the very spirit of our 
 institutions to raise an enduring memorial of 
 each and every martyr of liberty, and to 
 give a national significance to each hero s 
 devotion. 
 
 Will any one say that, because ours was a 
 civil war, memorials of its victims must of 
 necessity perpetuate sectional bitterness? T 
 
344 TRIBUTES 
 
 repel the insinuation. Not one of those whose 
 devotion we celebrate to-day fought for a 
 section or a party, but for the whole country. 
 Not one of them lifted his arm against the 
 South, but against treason wherever it might 
 rear its horrid front. They were not the victims 
 of passion, but the martyrs of principle. We 
 celebrate not the triumph of a section, but the 
 saving of a nation. The names which we with 
 pious care have cut in the enduring stone were 
 long before claimed by the Genius of Liberty, 
 and set with more enduring lustre among the 
 brightest pearls in her diadem. Need we then 
 hesitate to reveal our memorial to the world? 
 Will any true son of liberty ever turn with 
 averted face from its brilliant record? When 
 our nation is again united in a common devotion 
 to the principles of freedom, which are the 
 very life of the republic, shall we then be 
 ashamed to recall the names of those who died 
 in her defence? 
 
 But even if our monument, besides cele 
 brating the virtues of our heroes, should also 
 recall the crimes of the Rebels, and revive the 
 long-smothered indignation against the plotters 
 of treason in the South, still let it stand. We 
 may forgive, but we cannot forget, we must 
 not forget. We owe it to our brothers not to 
 forget their sacrifices. Upon their wasted lives 
 
TRIBUTES 345 
 
 we are rearing the structure of a nobler civiliza 
 tion. Their blood has nourished the seeds of 
 liberty, their names will ever be its truest 
 inspiration. Shall we reap the fruits of their 
 devotion and refuse to honor their memories? 
 It was the painful necessity of their position to 
 fight against their own flesh and blood. Shall 
 we therefore conceal the record of their fidelity ? 
 Shall we not rather hold in more abundant 
 honor those who left houses and lands and 
 kindred for the sake of a noble principle? 
 How often friend met friend in bloody fray, 
 brother lifting the sword against brother! 
 They felt that love of country was a holier tie 
 than love of kindred; for the happiness of 
 millions was involved in the nation s salvation. 
 Let us not forget, then, their self-denying 
 devotion. We owe it to our country not to 
 forget her defenders. The nation lives only 
 in the devotion of the people; and we must, 
 by every appreciative celebration and every 
 enduring memorial, perpetuate the remem 
 brance of those who gave everything for her 
 salvation. The national character is moulded 
 by the traditions of its own experience. The 
 masses of men do not look abroad for their 
 teachings of wisdom and their illustrations of 
 heroism, but to their own ancestry and their 
 own community. The strongest communities 
 
346 TRIBUTES 
 
 or peoples are those that are richest in these 
 traditions of heroism and devotion. 
 
 It is not in the decline of national power, but 
 at its height, that the memorials of greatness 
 are reared. The neglect of them is the sure 
 sign of national weakness and decay. When 
 Greece forgot the heroes of Marathon, she 
 forgot also her own glory. When Rome forgot 
 Brutus and his compatriots at Philippi, she 
 forgot also her own liberties. When England 
 forgot Cromwell, or remembered him only to 
 disgrace his ashes, she disgraced herself, and 
 forgot her supremacy in the glittering attrac 
 tions of a luxurious court. When our country 
 shall forget to honor her defenders, shall neglect 
 the memorials of their heroism, she will have 
 forgotten also her own true dignity, and have 
 neglected the fountains of her truest life. No, 
 we will not forget our fallen heroes. As long 
 as freedom has a name to be honored and loved, 
 her martyrs shall be remembered; and if ever 
 we are tempted to be false to liberty, their 
 blood will cry to us from the ground, and their 
 spirits will still rule us from their urns. To 
 the people of France, for long years after his 
 death, the ashes of Napoleon were a more 
 potent spell than the flash of a hundred thou 
 sand bayonets. They cringed before the ghost 
 of the tyrant quicker than to the sword of his 
 
TRIBUTES 347 
 
 tools. No such horrid nightmare haunts the 
 graves of our heroes; yet the spell of their 
 names shall be as powerful. For long years to 
 come, yes, forever in the history of our land, 
 the grave of a martyr of liberty shall be stronger 
 than the throne of a tyrant, and the ashes of 
 her patriot defenders shall overcome the legions 
 of treason though they advance terrible as an 
 army with banners. 
 
 In the war through which we have just 
 passed, the traditions of the Revolution were as 
 inspiring as the immediate demands of the 
 crisis. We believed that as God had been with 
 our fathers He would also be with us. We 
 trusted that a like devotion to liberty would 
 meet a like reward. We read and we repeated 
 to others the story of their sacrifices. Lexing 
 ton and Bunker Hill were our rallying cries. 
 The blood-stained snows of Valley Forge 
 nerved our endurance. The triumph of York- 
 town inspired our faith. The Charter of 
 Independence became the certificate of the 
 national life. The South threatened to violate 
 the sacred memories of the Revolution by calling 
 the roll of her slaves under the shadow of Bunker 
 Hill. But from beneath her hallowed sod 
 there came such inspiration that a million 
 freemen sprang to arms and defied the impious 
 threat. The Rebels fought not alone against 
 
348 TRIBUTES 
 
 Northern steel, but against their own and the 
 country s history, against their own and the 
 country s life. God and nature were against 
 them. The stars in their courses fought against 
 rebellion. The result was not doubtful. In 
 decisive battles, truth always musters the heaviest 
 battalions. So to-day those who under the 
 specious pretext of a restored Union are plotting 
 for a re-established system of oppression, are 
 plotting against the national life, and will 
 surely fail. Our country has not vanquished 
 her open enemies only to fall by the thrusts 
 of her pretended friends. She is stronger than 
 ever before in the faith of the people. She 
 stands not now as in the Revolution, the 
 hopeful field whereon freedom and high civiliza 
 tion might achieve new triumphs for man. 
 Our country holds to-day a grander position 
 and a nobler fame. She stands before the 
 world as the arena whereon Freedom and 
 Slavery have closed in fierce death-grapple, and 
 Freedom stands triumphant. If our fathers 
 and brothers died for a glorious hope, shall we 
 not live for a grand fruition? Our fathers 
 feared that the stripes of their dear-loved 
 banner might come to symbolize the exactions 
 of a foreign tyranny, and our brothers died 
 with only the hope that its stars might not go 
 out in disastrous night. But to us the stripes 
 
TRIBUTES 349 
 
 are crimson with the blood of a hundred 
 thousand heroes whose ebbing life was the 
 flood tide on which our liberties rose for a 
 vantage-ground of eternal security, and its 
 stars stand firm as the stars in heaven, not only 
 undiminished, but ever increasing in number 
 and in lustre. 
 
 What an inheritance has thus been trans 
 mitted to us as the inspiration and the pledge 
 of our fidelity! We need not now search the 
 annals of ancient history for illustrations of 
 heroism and patriotic devotion. We need go 
 no more to Marathon and Thermopylae. We 
 need not appeal to Leonidas to inspire our 
 courage, nor suffer the trophies of Miltiades 
 to break our sleep. We need not even go back 
 to Lexington and Bunker Hill, to Prescott and 
 Warren. We have in our own times as bright 
 a galaxy of noble names, as grand a pile of 
 trophies. Where are the fields that shall dim 
 the lustre of Antietam and Gettysburg, of 
 Winchester and Cedar Creek, of Vicksburg 
 and Port Hudson, of Murfreesborough and 
 Lookout Mountain? Where in military annals 
 are the movements that compare in rapidity 
 with the raids of Sheridan, in grandeur with 
 the march of Sherman, in persistency with the 
 advance of Grant? Where in history are the 
 generals who can cast a shade upon the names 
 
350 TRIBUTES 
 
 of Lyon and Sedgwick and Kearney and 
 Macpherson? Where are the commanders 
 braver than Rogers and Winslow and Farragut 
 and Foote? What nation or people has such 
 an illustrious roll of young heroes Ellsworth, 
 Winthrop, Baker, Shaw, Putnam, Lowell? 
 And if we come nearer home, what private 
 memorial ever bore nobler names than ours? 
 Do you speak of courage ? At Gettysburg, they 
 moved not one step backward before the 
 fiercest onset of the desperate foe.* Do you 
 speak of gallant daring? Their advance at 
 Kenesaw Mountain was not checked till their 
 poor bodies were riddled with bullets, f Do 
 you speak of endurance? In the Wilderness 
 for thirty days they marched and fought and 
 intrenched, and marched and fought and in 
 trenched, every day nearer the Rebel capitol, 
 and in the last grand effort at Cold Harbor met 
 defeat only with death. { Do you speak of 
 
 * Thos. B. Fox, Jr., Captain, Second Regiment Massachu 
 setts Infantry Volunteers, died July 25, 1863, of wounds received 
 at Gettysburg, Pa. 
 
 f Henry W. Hall, Adjutant, Fifty-first Regiment Illinois 
 Infantry Volunteers, fell June 27, 1864, pierced with eleven 
 bullets, in the charge upon the Rebel intrenchments at Kenesaw 
 Mountain. 
 
 t Walter Humphreys, Company A, Thirteenth Regiment 
 Massachusetts Infantry Volunteers, fell at Cold Harbor, June 
 2, 1864. 
 
TRIBUTES 351 
 
 fortitude and patience ? Do you not know that 
 eleven of those whose names are here sur 
 rounded with an enduring wreath of glory met 
 without a murmur a most inglorious death, 
 away from friends, without one tear of sym 
 pathy, wasting away inch by inch in the loath 
 some confinement of the Rebel prisons? I will 
 not multiply horrors in order to magnify their 
 virtues. But, tell me, is there a brighter page 
 in history than that which we have stereotyped 
 to-day with these familiar names? To-day 
 we give them to history; but not alone to her 
 cold and voiceless record. We have also 
 inscribed their names upon the tablets of our 
 hearts, and there they shall live in a bright 
 immortality of grateful remembrance. 
 
 I have spoken of the value of our tradi 
 tions to patriotic devotion, now so multiplied 
 that almost every fireside has its own heroic 
 tale. 
 
 But their value depends chiefly on connecting 
 them with the traditions of the national life. 
 We must not repeat the story of the glorious 
 deeds of our heroes without recalling also the 
 sacred principles for which they risked their 
 precious lives. They fought first and fore 
 most for the national integrity; but for the 
 national integrity chiefly because it was the 
 synonym of universal liberty. God in his all- 
 
352 TRIBUTES 
 
 wise providence had planted the vine of liberty 
 in this western world at the foot of the tree of 
 our national life, and had so entwined their 
 rapid growths that the axe could not cleave 
 them apart without destroying both, nor 
 could the propitious rains water the roots of 
 liberty without nourishing also the national 
 life. As in the Revolution, the colonists did 
 not in the beginning fight for independence but 
 for justice, yet were soon taught by providen 
 tial experience that justice could not be reached 
 except through independence, so, in the late 
 war, our people did not in the beginning fight 
 for freedom, but for the national life; yet were 
 soon taught by providential events that the 
 nation could not be saved except through 
 liberty. And as at the birth of religious liberty 
 in Judea, God had prepared a grand empire 
 under one head, its subjects obeying the same 
 laws, familiar with the same language, sharers 
 of a common civilization, and all from the gates 
 of Hercules to the farthest Ind bearing the com 
 mon dignity of a Roman citizen, and this unity 
 of laws and language invited Christianity to 
 the easier conquest of the world, so at the birth 
 of civil liberty in the "Mayflower," God 
 opened a wide continent, and raised up a great 
 people, and gave them liberty for their inheri 
 tance, and freedom for their possession, and 
 
TRIBUTES 353 
 
 bade them scatter these blessings throughout 
 the world. For the security of these priceless 
 treasures, we first won our independence through 
 the devotion of our fathers, and now by the 
 fidelity of our brothers have established our 
 nationality on the basis of universal liberty. 
 It only remains that we still be faithful; that 
 we now and forever link our traditions of 
 patriotic devotion, so full and fresh to-day, 
 with the traditions of liberty which God has 
 entwined so closely about our national life; 
 then we shall enter upon such a career of glory 
 as we can scarcely now foresee. 
 
 Our most immediate duty is to secure the 
 fruits of our triumph, and lay the foundation 
 of a lasting peace. Oh for a Hampden or a 
 Washington, who, having caught the spirit 
 of a great struggle and brought it to a successful 
 close, can also, by wisdom and moderation, 
 restrain the excesses of victory and soothe the 
 anger of defeat! Alas I our village Hampden, 
 our second Washington is gone! gone with 
 those who in camp and field and hospital laid 
 their rich gifts of life upon the altar of the 
 country! gone to his boys whose bright and 
 gleaming ranks beyond the river of death 
 opened to welcome what we could so hardly 
 lose! Still we will not repine. Our salvation 
 does not depend upon one man or set of men, 
 
3 54 TRIBUTES 
 
 but upon the people, and the lessons of this 
 war have been too deeply burned into their 
 hearts for them now to prove untrue. Let the 
 people see to it that treason is made odious and 
 rebellion fully crushed; that loyalty is encour 
 aged and disloyalty rebuked; that liberty is 
 made the inalienable possession of every 
 inhabitant of our land, and that all within our 
 borders, of whatever race, sex, or condition, 
 are allowed free scope for the development of 
 all their powers, and are intrusted with all the 
 duties of citizenship for which they may be 
 fitted by their intelligence, their capacities, 
 or their natural position. What a glorious 
 career will then open to our nation! Fearing 
 no enemies within or without, she will attain 
 a dignity she has not yet assumed; she will 
 be a leader among the nations, too great to 
 excite their envy, too magnanimous to stir their 
 hate. Her freedom will be the inspiration of 
 every struggling people, and her tranquility the 
 rebuke of every trembling tyranny. 
 
 Yet not in laws alone shall she lead the 
 nations, but in literatures and every field of 
 knowledge. We have not only broken the 
 fetters of the slave, but we have begun to 
 break the fetters of the mind. As the com 
 mon mind goes forth to mingle in strife or 
 sympathy with the minds of millions, and sees 
 
TRIBUTES 355 
 
 open before it all the opportunities and privi 
 leges that the greatest can possess, and feels 
 that it participates in the dignity and glory 
 of the mighty mass, and sustains an equal 
 share in its protection and support, it cannot 
 but expand with the expanding thought, and 
 must rise above all mean conceptions and 
 narrow views, and image forth in its own 
 development the grand unfolding of the na 
 tional life. Great nations beget great thoughts ; 
 and it is only with great struggles that great 
 literatures are born. The relentless plough of 
 war has broken the surface of the popular 
 mind, and brought up the rich sub-soil of deep 
 convictions and broader aims, and it now lies 
 furrowed and fallow for the sowing of what 
 ever thoughts befit a great nation and a free 
 people. 
 
 Would that some Homer or Virgil or Dante 
 might arise to catch the spirit of the age and 
 mould the aspirations of the people into a 
 worthy epic that would be a priceless legacy to 
 all coming time! Or rather, would that there 
 might arise one greater than they all! For the 
 struggle through which we have passed de 
 veloped more of daring adventure and thrilling 
 romance, more of calm endurance and heroic 
 devotion than Virgil ever saw, or Homer ever 
 sung; and its terrible earnestness and fearful 
 
356 TRIBUTES 
 
 sacrifices would furnish the theme of a "divine 
 tragedy" that would need a greater than 
 Dante to portray. The age must make its 
 own interpreter. Meanwhile we can all do 
 something to establish and perpetuate the 
 principles for which our brothers died. Let 
 us see to it that the rich seeds of precious lives 
 that have been sown broadcast over the land 
 bear living fruit in a purified government and a 
 regenerated people. Let us catch the spirit 
 of the age, and press on in the path of the 
 nation s destiny. The time is ripe for grand 
 attempts and grander results. Freedom is 
 daily achieving victories for which but lately 
 we scarce dared to hope; and the spirit of 
 Republicanism is rising in such a flood that 
 its refluent waves are engulfing the thrones 
 and tyrannies of the old world, and lifting the 
 oppressed people into liberty and manhood. 
 
 Is not this place also inspiring? Old Dor 
 chester bears a noble record of public virtue 
 and devoted patriotism. In 1630, her founders, 
 led hither by their love of Christian liberty, 
 having first by a fair equivalent obtained a 
 release of the land from the Indian chief, used 
 great efforts to civilize the neighboring tribes 
 and convert them to Christianity, thus laying 
 the foundations of her civil polity in en 
 lightened justice and earnest religious faith. 
 
TRIBUTES 357 
 
 In 1652, by public vote, a general collection 
 was taken up in the town for the maintenance 
 of Harvard College. In 1664, the town drew 
 up a petition for civil and religious liberty; 
 and in general took such a stand in those early 
 colonial days that, in all civil assemblies and 
 military musters she was allowed the precedence 
 in honorable position. Nor did she discredit 
 her reputation in after time. Years before 
 the Revolution, the town voted to encourage 
 domestic manufactures, and lessen the use of 
 foreign luxuries. She especially prohibited the 
 use of tea except in cases of sickness; and in 
 1774 voted to pay her province tax into the 
 treasury of the "Sons of Liberty," instead of 
 to the treasurer of the Crown, declaring that 
 the attempt of Parliament to impose upon the 
 colonies laws without their consent was a 
 tyrannical usurpation. In the Revolution, 
 having early voted to sustain the Continental 
 Congress if they should see fit to declare an 
 independency with Great Britain, Dorchester 
 gave to the army one-third of her men over 
 sixteen years of age, and in the late war for our 
 national existence, with a population of only 
 ten thousand, she furnished one thousand two 
 hundred and seventy-seven men, which was 
 one hundred and twenty-three in excess of 
 all calls; and of these, one hundred and twenty- 
 
358 TRIBUTES 
 
 seven became martyrs of liberty, ninety-seven 
 of them our own townsmen. 
 
 Theirs are the holy rites of commemoration 
 that we celebrate to-day. About their names 
 we here intwine an imperishable wreath of 
 glory. To their memories we consecrate this 
 monumental shaft. We have placed it under 
 the shadow of the church, for theirs was a sacred 
 cause. It stands in view of the sounding ocean 
 whose ceaseless beat and roar shall not outlast 
 their fame. We will also enshrine them in our 
 heart of hearts; and, inspired by their devotion 
 to the country, we will here consecrate ourselves 
 anew to her service. 
 
 "The patriot spirit has not fled; 
 
 It walks in noon s broad light, 
 And it watches the bed of the glorious dead 
 
 With the holy stars by night. 
 It watches the bed of the brave who have bled, 
 
 And shall guard this rock-bound shore, 
 Till the waves of the bay, in their mystic play, 
 
 Shall break and foam no more." 
 
TRIBUTES 359 
 
 II 
 MEMORIAL DAY, 1894 
 
 ADDRESS IN TOWN HALL AT RANDOLPH, MASS., 
 BY REV. CHARLES A. HUMPHREYS. 
 
 FRIEND si 
 lt is a pathetic picture that is presented 
 to-day of the swiftly lessening ranks of the 
 living marching to cover with the flowers of 
 grateful remembrance the swiftly multiplying 
 ranks of the dead. At the close of the war, 
 of the two and one-half millions of soldiers 
 who had been mustered in defence of the 
 Union, more than two millions survived, one- 
 seventh having paid with their lives the 
 precious cost of freedom. But the full price 
 had not yet been given, nor even now is it 
 all discharged. Each year sends an increas 
 ing number of our comrades to join the silent 
 dead. The ranks to which there can come no 
 new recruits are daily depleted by fast in 
 creasing disabilities. The youngest soldier of 
 the Union must now be long past the median 
 line of life, and of the great leaders of the war, 
 only General Sherman reached the scriptural 
 span of threescore years and ten, and it has 
 been noted that by those who endured the 
 
360 TRIBUTES 
 
 exposures of service in the field, the line of 
 threescore years is seldom passed. So we 
 cannot help seeing that the coming years will 
 make still wider gaps in our ranks. Although 
 only two years ago the army of living soldiers 
 and the army of the dead were exactly balanced, 
 to-day the dead who receive our tributes out 
 number the living by a quarter of a million, 
 and the time is not far distant when the last 
 survivor will totter to the tomb. But doubtless 
 grateful hearts and full hands will still scatter 
 flowers for many years to come. The remem 
 brance of these heroes will inspire all with 
 nobler aims and finer devotions. The tendrils 
 of grateful memory stretching from all hearts 
 to every soldier s grave will bind the living 
 to a glad rivalry in loyal service. So, com 
 rades, as to-day we leave them in their flower- 
 besprinkled graves, let us go forth to life s 
 common cares with a higher purpose. 
 
 It is often harder to live truly than to die 
 nobly. I sometimes feel like envying those who 
 gave up their lives on the field of glorious war 
 and thus wrote their names high on the scroll 
 of fame among the world s immortals. Happy 
 lot! One short hour of glorious life is worth an 
 age without a name. Yes! Harder than to 
 give up life in one outburst of enthusiastic 
 devotion is to give up health and drag through 
 
TRIBUTES 361 
 
 long and weary years an enfeebled body, seeing 
 the prizes of life grasped by stronger hands, 
 forced to yield every race for honors to swifter 
 feet, cherishing still a soldier s eagerness for the 
 front of battle, but disabled and left lonely 
 and useless in the rear. This indeed is the 
 harder sacrifice. Yet let us make it cheerfully. 
 Let others outrun us in the race for wealth and 
 power. We will press towards the mark for the 
 prize of a higher calling, and as we once 
 offered our lives for our country s defence, we 
 will still dedicate them to its advancement. 
 And when we consider the grand march of our 
 people in population, in prosperity and in 
 power, when we see the new industrial vigor of 
 the Southern States which were so crippled in 
 the Rebellion, when we behold them cherishing 
 an equal patriotism with ourselves, when we 
 recognize that each year adds so much to the 
 value of the Union, should we not be thankful 
 that our lives have been spared, and that we 
 have been permitted to see not alone the 
 triumph on the field of glorious war, of the 
 armies to which it is our increasing pride to have 
 belonged, but a grander triumph of reconcilia 
 tion in the green pastures and by the still 
 waters of a prosperous peace? 
 
 How like a vanishing vision seem the hard 
 ships and exposures of the war through the 
 
362 TRIBUTES 
 
 dim distance of thirty years ! How its agonizing 
 losses have been transformed into glorious 
 gains! Memorial Day has now less of sad 
 ness than gladness gladness in the possession 
 of such heroic memories. I think it is a mistake, 
 after nearly a generation has passed, to half- 
 mast our flags. They should rather be lifted to 
 the peak and flung to the breeze in joyous 
 exultation over those heroes, 
 
 "Who died that we might claim a soil unstained, 
 A realm unsevered, and a race unchained." 
 
 We now recall without pain but with a 
 happy pride the sacrifices they made. We do 
 not now think of them as dead. 
 
 "They really live in history s deathless page 
 
 High on the slow-wrought pedestals of fame, 
 Ranged with the heroes of remoter age; 
 
 They could not die who left their nation free, 
 Firm as the rock, unfettered as the sea, 
 Its heaven unshadowed by the cloud of shame." 
 
 Comrades, though we are only the dwindling 
 rear guard of the grand procession of the 
 soldiers of the Union the larger part of which 
 has crossed the flood, and nearly all of whose 
 leaders are now awaiting us in the silent halls 
 of death, we will be proud to have once been 
 their companions. What a thrill their names 
 still excite: dashing Hooker fighting in the 
 
TRIBUTES 363 
 
 clouds at Lookout Mountain; splendid Hancock 
 charging with many a forlorn hope, and 
 achieving what seemed impossibilities to less 
 courageous hearts; heroic McPherson falling 
 before the splendor of his abilities was fully 
 appreciated; undoubting Thomas firm as a 
 rock against the whelming waves of disaster 
 at Chickamauga and a sure salvation for 
 imperilled Nashville; faithful Meade leading 
 the patient Army of the Potomac to its 
 hardly won triumph; fiery Sheridan snatching 
 victory from defeat at Cedar Creek, and striking 
 the death-blow of the Army of Northern 
 Virginia at Five Forks; resourceful Sherman 
 cutting the Confederacy in twain by his march 
 to the sea; and above all, outshining all in his 
 full-orbed glory, persistent Grant pushing all 
 our armies slowly but surely to triumph! What 
 an array of magnificent commanders! But 
 whatever the grandeur of their position, they 
 did not exceed in devotion the common soldier 
 whose name is unremembered but who gave all 
 he had to his country. All to-day are in equal 
 honor. 
 
 "They fell devoted but undying; 
 The very gale their praise seems sighing, 
 The waters murmur of their name, 
 The woods are peopled with their fame, 
 The meanest rill, the mightiest river, 
 Rolls mingling with their fame forever." 
 
364 TRIBUTES 
 
 III 
 DEDICATION OF FLAGS 
 
 AT FIRST PARISH CHURCH ON MEETING HOUSE 
 
 HILL, OCTOBER 15, 1916. 
 ADDRESS BY REV. CHARLES A. HUMPHREYS 
 
 DEAR FRIENDS: 
 
 I am asked to speak to you on "Our Flag and 
 the Spirit of its Defenders." 
 
 At its best and as I generally saw it in the 
 Civil War that spirit was an utter devotion 
 with no thought of anything but duty, with 
 no fear of anything but dishonor. People 
 wonder how a soldier can dare the dangers of 
 battle. He dares them because he forgets 
 himself and is thinking only of duty and 
 service. He follows the flag because it sym 
 bolizes his country s safety and humanity s 
 salvation. He hears above the thunder of 
 artillery and the hiss of bullets the voice of 
 God calling him to risk his life for truth and 
 right. He sees beyond the flaming mouths of 
 the enemy s musketry the hands that would 
 dishonor his flag and destroy his country. 
 So of course he dares everything and counts 
 not his life dear to himself if he can give it in 
 
TRIBUTES 365 
 
 defence of that flag s honor and that country s 
 imperilled life. 
 
 I could not trust myself to begin to speak of 
 the transcendent worth of the few who were 
 nearest to me, who grew up with me in our 
 church school, and who were nourished with 
 me under the fostering inspiration of Rev. 
 Nathaniel Hall. What words would suffice to 
 tell of him who was the closest companion of 
 my school and college days Thomas Bailey 
 Fox, my college chum, the chosen orator of our 
 Class of 1860, a born advocate, who had before 
 him the largest promise of public usefulness, 
 whose manly heart panted after the champion 
 ship of noble causes, but who laid aside all these 
 high hopes to throw himself into the "imminent 
 deadly breach" at Gettysburg, 
 
 "And for guerdon of his toil, 
 And pouring out his life s best oil, 
 Tasted the raptured fleetness 
 Of Truth s divine completeness." 
 
 Or how could I speak of that highly gifted, 
 generous-hearted schoolmate (son of our de 
 voted pastor), Henry Ware Hall who chal 
 lenged the admiration even of his foes when he 
 fell, pierced by eleven bullets, as he led a 
 storming column up the heights of Kenesaw 
 Mountain, 
 
366 TRIBUTES 
 
 "And in warm life-blood wrote a nobler verse" 
 Than poets sing or tuneful lips rehearse; 
 "Lived battle-odes whose lines were steel and fire 
 And shaped in squadron strophes his desire." 
 
 Nor can I speak as I would of that younger 
 hero Walter Humphreys, a brother dearly 
 beloved who gave the rich promise of his 
 opening life to his country s service, and, a 
 private in the ranks, followed his regiment s 
 bullet-pierced colors from the Wilderness to 
 Cold Harbor and somewhere on that fatal 
 field sleeps in an unknown grave. 
 
 "Oh for the touch of a vanished hand, 
 And the sound of a voice that is still!" 
 
 Ye sad waters of the Chickahominy, flow 
 gently where he lies! Thou sacred soil of 
 Virginia, how sacred now! weave above his 
 head a chaplet of perennial green! Ye pines 
 that strike your eager roots into that holy dust, 
 wave your tops in ceaseless worship for the 
 glory of a soul that leaped transfigured out of 
 the gloom of your shadowing tent! He knew 
 when he lifted the banner of his country that 
 it was also the banner of the Cross, and when 
 Death glared upon him from behind the 
 glistening bayonets of the foe, he did not fear. 
 I hold as sacred a scrap of paper upon which 
 
TRIBUTES 367 
 
 he wrote this last message to his old home, 
 " I must say I am ready for the coming contest." 
 Dear Brother, we will weep no more! Your 
 sacrifice was willing. Soldier, go home; for 
 you the field is won! 
 
 "I with uncovered head 
 
 Salute these sacred dead. 
 Blow trumpets, all your exultations blow! 
 For never shall their aureoled presence lack; 
 I see them muster in a gleaming row 
 With ever youthful brows that nobler show; 
 We find in our dull road their shining track, 
 
 In every nobler mood. 
 We feel the orient of their spirit glow, 
 Part of our life s unalterable good, 
 Of all our saintlier aspiration; 
 
 They come transfigured back 
 Secure from change in their high-hearted ways, 
 Beautiful evermore, and with the rays 
 Of morn on their white Shields of Expectation." 
 
 DEAR FRIENDS: 
 
 After this tale of some of the sacrifices that 
 our Civil War demanded more than half a 
 century ago, and after witnessing for two years 
 the greater sacrifices demanded by the worst 
 and wickedest of all wars, in which a military 
 caste has attempted to set might on the 
 throne where justice should be omnipotent, I 
 rejoice to have lived to see the founding, and 
 
368 TRIBUTES 
 
 to become a member, of a world League to 
 Enforce Peace. For that way lies the hope of 
 humanity, 
 
 "[When] war-drum[s] [shall beat] no longer, 
 
 And [all] battle-flags [be] furled 
 In the Parliament of man, 
 
 The Federation of the world." 
 
 Then shall our national and state flags be more 
 loved than ever, as they will be the symbol of 
 finer loyalties than war invokes and become the 
 inspiration of the more beneficent victories of 
 peace. And to-day as they are lifted before 
 our eyes here, let them hearten us to fight fear 
 lessly and confidently for freedom and the truth, 
 because we know that behind them are the 
 succoring legions of the whole Christian army, 
 and thy right hand, O God, and thy holy arm 
 that assure us of victory. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 More intimate glimpses of a Chaplain s life as revealed 
 in his diary and home letters 1863-65. 
 
 April 4, 63. Harvard Divinity School. My class 
 mate Harry Russell, Lieutenant Colonel Second Massa 
 chusetts Cavalry Volunteers, having asked me to be the 
 Chaplain of his regiment, I walked into Boston, where he 
 is recruiting the men, and told him that I would accept 
 if the other officers also wanted me. 
 
 April 20, 63. I went out to Readville, where the 
 Second Massachusetts Cavalry is in training, and Col. 
 Charles Russell Lowell told me that the officers would 
 no doubt want me to go as chaplain. 
 
 May 22, 63. Had a letter from Col. N. P. Hallowell 
 of the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts Regiment (colored), ask 
 ing me to induce John Chadwick, who was here in the 
 Divinity School, to accept a commission as Chaplain in 
 his regiment; but I did not succeed. 
 
 July 4, 63. Gov. John A. Andrew to-day signed my 
 commission as Chaplain of the Second Massachusetts 
 Cavalry Volunteers. 
 
 July 14, 63. Divinity Hall, Cambridge. I was or 
 dained in the chapel here this morning, George L. Chancy, 
 John F. W. Ware, Edward H. Hall, and Dr. Noyes tak 
 ing part in the service. [See pages 297-303]. 
 
 July 19, 63. Sunday. I preached in my home church, 
 giving my pastor Rev. Nathaniel Hall a labor of love. 
 
370 APPENDIX 
 
 At the end of the service he made an ordaining prayer 
 making up thus for his enforced absence at my Cambridge 
 ordination. 
 
 July 28, 63. Sad to tell, my first public service after 
 my full ordination as chaplain was to join to-day with 
 Chaplain Quint of the Second Massachusetts Infantry 
 and Rev. Nathaniel Hall in the funeral service for my col 
 lege-chum Capt. Thomas B. Fox, Jr., of the Second Mas 
 sachusetts Infantry, who received his mortal wound at 
 Gettysburg. (See Note 10.) 
 
 August 19, 63. Bade good-bye to all at home joy 
 shining through my tears, the joy of going to serve my 
 country. Took the 5.30 steamboat train for New York. 
 
 August 20, 63. Going through Philadelphia, I called 
 to see my classmate William Eliot Furness, but found that 
 he had gone to the war in a colored regiment. Still I had 
 a very pleasant call on his father. I was much surprised 
 to have him tell me that he had recommended me to his 
 brother, Rev. William H. Furness, as a colleague. That 
 may perhaps be considered when the country is safe. 
 Now the soldiers in the field shall have my best and my 
 only labor. 
 
 Washington, D.C., August 21, 63. Was mustered into 
 the "service of the United States for three years, unless 
 sooner discharged." Called at Armory Hospital on Miss 
 Anna Lowell, sister of Colonel Lowell, and on Miss Mary 
 Felton, daughter of President Felton old Cambridge 
 friends. At noon I took the boat for Alexandria and then 
 carried my luggage on my shoulders three-quarters of a 
 mile across the city to the cars for Fairfax station. It was 
 pretty tough work under a hot sun. I arrived at Fairfax 
 at 3.30. I would have walked to my regiment six miles 
 away but that the country here is infested with guerrillas. 
 I telegraphed to Colonel Crowninshield and he sent an 
 
APPENDIX 371 
 
 ambulance and a cavalry escort and I reached camp at 
 9 P.M. 
 
 August 22, 63. Cavalry Camp near Centreville. I 
 breakfasted on hardbread, fried pork, and water, with 
 Colonel Lowell, Majors Crowninshield and Forbes, and 
 Lieut. Goodwin Stone. 
 
 Sunday, August 23, 63. Had a ten-minute service in 
 each of the three wards of the brigade hospital, and at 
 dress parade of my regiment. Sung in the evening in 
 Major Forbes tent, where my quarters now are. 
 
 August 24, 63. Mosby has captured a hundred horses 
 that were coming to this regiment, and Colonel Lowell 
 has started after him, and the camp seems deserted. 
 
 August 27, 63. At ten o clock I conducted a funeral 
 service over John McCarthy of Company A, who was 
 killed in the skirmish with Mosby. Not only his com 
 pany, called the California Hundred, led by Capt. J. 
 Sewall Reed, but also all the field and staff officers, led by 
 Colonel Lowell, attended the service. This recognition 
 of valor always tells for good with the men and makes them 
 more brave in danger and more faithful in every duty. 
 
 Alexandria, August 28, 63. I have just partaken of the 
 hospitality of the Sanitary Commission at the "Soldiers 
 Rest." My napkin was marked, "U. S. Sanitary Com 
 mission, Boston Branch." It pleased me very much to 
 share in Boston s generosity in a Southern city. I came 
 here with disabled Captain De Merritt of my regiment. 
 I am taking him to Seminary Hospital in Georgetown. 
 The journey though only eighteen miles is quite difficult. 
 At camp the Captain with a wandering brain and a 
 broken leg was put into an ambulance and I went in by 
 his side and was driven under guard of six cavalrymen to 
 Fairfax station, six miles away. There I had to wait one 
 and a half hours for the train. Then I put the Captain 
 
372 APPENDIX 
 
 into a baggage-car and sat down beside him and rode for 
 two hours to Alexandria. Here, with the help of another 
 man, I carried the Captain on my shoulders quite a dis 
 tance to the Soldiers Rest. Then after two hours I put 
 the Captain into another baggage-car and reached Wash 
 ington at 5 P.M., having started from camp at 9 A.M. 
 There was yet an hour of waiting till I could get an order 
 to take the Captain to the hospital, and then another ride 
 with him in an ambulance to Georgetown finished for me 
 the trying day s labor, except that in the evening I wrote 
 to the Captain s wife in Sacramento, Cal., and to his 
 mother and sister in Durham, N.H., telling of the Captain s 
 condition. 
 
 August 29, 63. By invitation of Rev. James Richard 
 son Harvard College 1837, Harvard Divinity School 
 1845 I spent the night at his elegant mansion formerly 
 owned by Banker Corcoran. He and his wife accompanied 
 me to Alexandria, and I reached camp by way of the steam 
 train to Fairfax and then by our wagon train to Centre- 
 ville. Mr. Richardson is General Agent of the United 
 States Sanitary Commission, and he invited me to make 
 his house my home whenever I was in Washington. 
 
 September 3, 63. I spent a good part of the day copy 
 ing muster-rolls so that I can have in alphabetical order a 
 full list of the men of my regiment and the company to 
 which each belongs for reference, especially in distribut 
 ing the mail. I have already recorded about six companies 
 and the address of the nearest relative of each soldier. 
 
 September 6, 63. Sunday. When I called this morn 
 ing for singers for the Regimental Service in the barn, 
 nineteen soldiers responded, much to my gratification. 
 The band with its twelve brass instruments can accom 
 pany the singing, as I have obtained from Ditson s many 
 of the scores of music for hymns. 
 
APPENDIX 373 
 
 September u, 63. The Second Massachusetts Infan 
 try on its way to the front stopped for a noon rest near 
 our camp, and my classmate Billy Perkins and my fellow- 
 townsman John A. Fox dined with me. 
 
 September 12, 63. I was especially interested to-day 
 in one of the patients in the hospital, a Frenchman who 
 had very early followed his taste for art, and moulded 
 busts and painted portraits. He showed me photo 
 graphs of his folks in Paris, and they seemed very genteel 
 and cultivated. He left home at nineteen, and lived two 
 years in Switzerland, and travelled in Germany and 
 Italy. Coming to this country he enlisted in the Second 
 Massachusetts Cavalry only three weeks after his arrival 
 in Boston. He took a great interest in the photographs 
 that I carried in my pocket. Looking at my Divinity 
 School classmate D. H. Montgomery, he exclaimed, 
 pointing to his own forehead, "Plenty of brains!" And 
 his observation was correct. Looking at the sisters of my 
 Divinity School classmate W. W. Newell, he threw up 
 his hands in admiration as a Frenchman knows how 
 and shouted, "Beautiful! Beautiful!" And I thought so 
 myself. Coming to my college classmate Will Gannett, 
 he said: "He is solemn. Strong character," and no one 
 ever doubted that. Coming to another college classmate, 
 Harry Scott, he said, "I have seen him." Here I thought 
 I had caught him napping, and I replied, "I guess not." 
 But he was quite positive, and soon recalled his name. 
 He had seen him only once, and that at Gloucester Point, 
 where I knew that he was accustomed to visit. I thought 
 this showed a peculiar power of distinguishing faces and 
 characters. In my pocket collection I had a photograph 
 of Edwin Booth my great admiration on the stage and 
 the little Frenchman said at once, "He is an actor," 
 though he had never seen him nor heard of him before. Of 
 
374 APPENDIX 
 
 the group of Longfellow children he said, "That is copied 
 from a painting," and it was. I could easily believe it 
 when he told that when he was a boy he used to fre 
 quently ride in the street-cars of Paris just to study faces 
 and characters. 
 
 September 15, 63. I was taken with a fever last night 
 and severe headache. It was my tribute to the climate 
 here and perhaps the drinking-water which we have to get 
 from a brook one-quarter of a mile away. Adjutant 
 Baldwin took care of the mail while I should be sick. 
 
 September 17, 63. Visited the hospital to-day. Al 
 most well. Headache all gone. I have invited the men 
 to visit me freely at my tent. I can accommodate eight 
 on a pinch three or four on the bed, three on the bench, 
 and one in the easy-chair. 
 
 September 18, 63. Heavy rain. A tempest of wind 
 is beating down a great many tents of officers and men. 
 I put on my rubber suit and went to work sinking the pins 
 of my tent. All men fit for service left at 2 P.M. to chase 
 after Mosby. I superintended the putting up of Major 
 Forbes tent, which is next to mine. 
 
 September 23, 63. I picked out to-day, from a lot of 
 one hundred and fifty, a roan-colored horse and paid the 
 Government one hundred and eighty-four dollars for him. 
 
 October I, 63. In Washington to-day I went to the 
 Sanitary Commission, and without money and without 
 price got seventy-five woolen shirts for my hospital 
 patients. This Commission is a very great blessing to 
 the sick soldiers. 
 
 October 2, 63. Returning from Washington by train 
 to Fairfax station, I found my horse ready for me. My 
 servant Gabriel had ridden him down with the wagon 
 train. As it was raining very hard, I did not like to wait 
 for the return of the wagons, so I took two men from the 
 
APPENDIX 375 
 
 wagon train guard for an escort and started at once on a 
 six-mile gallop through the mud, which was from four 
 to six inches deep. It was a glorious ride spite of the 
 drenching of my best suit and the filling of my boots with 
 water. 
 
 October 12, 63. Last night we were awakened by 
 shots on the picket line, and it was not a minute before 
 the Headquarters Bugler sounded the call to arms, which 
 was immediately repeated by the buglers of the three 
 regiments of the brigade. I was up and dressed with the 
 first call. In ten minutes all the men were in line, facing 
 the direction from which the shots were heard. Thus 
 they remained for half an hour, till the orderlies who had 
 been sent out to find the cause of the firing returned and 
 reported a false alarm. Then the men were dismissed, 
 with orders to lie on their arms for the rest of the night. 
 
 October 14, 63. Cannonading at the front all day. 
 Orders to be ready to move at a moment s notice. 
 Meade s army has fallen back to Centreville, only a short 
 distance from us. 
 
 October 16, 63. Have not unpacked yet. We may 
 have to move at any time. We are now at Vienna, Va. 
 
 October 18, 63. Great excitement in camp; every 
 body under arms, and horses saddled. One of Mosby s 
 men has been brought in. It is Sunday, but I could have 
 no service and cannot reach the hospital, which is now at 
 Fairfax. Last Sunday I went to the hospital there, and 
 took letters to the patients, and spent several hours with 
 them. Until I came here, Sunday was like every other 
 day. Now there is a little change for the better. I can 
 not hope to do much, but I shall try to do my best. 
 
 October 22, 63. Just now a sergeant came to my tent 
 and said hesitatingly, "I want to ask of you a favor." 
 "I shall be most happy to do anything," I replied. Says 
 
376 APPENDIX 
 
 he: "I am somewhat acquainted with the book business. 
 When I enlisted I was in Crosby & Nichols store. I 
 would like to borrow a book, if you please." I told him 
 I would delight to lend him any he liked in my list, and he 
 picked out "The Minister s Wooing" and one of Shake 
 speare s plays. 
 
 Sunday, November I, 63. No regimental service to 
 day, as no meeting-place was available. I went as usual 
 to the hospital. Hon. Seth Washburne from Red Wing, 
 Minn., was there. His son, Corp. Luman P. Washburne 
 of Company L, had been wounded October 9th and I had 
 notified his father of an unfavorable turn in the Corporal s 
 condition, and he had started two hours after receiving 
 my letter. 
 
 November 2, 63. I carried some games to the hospital 
 to-day, and the patients were delighted. I brought also 
 a valise full of books, and all were taken. 
 
 November 3, 63. The men for some time have come 
 freely to my tent, and I began to-night to call on them. 
 I began with Company A. 
 
 November 7, 63. At the request of my colored ser 
 vant Caesar S. Harris I to-day drew up a Will for him, 
 to be signed to-morrow with his mark in presence of 
 Maj. William H. Forbes and Capt. J. Sewall Reed. He 
 has three thousand dollars in gold hidden in the earth 
 under a board (plank No. 4) of the floor of his tent. He 
 has also the jaundice and thinks he may die. He flatters 
 himself that the secret of his wealth is safe with me, but 
 I have made no promises. The first item in the Will was 
 "I give and bequeath to Captain J. Sewall Reed, as a 
 mark of my appreciation of his repeated kindnesses to 
 me $500.00 in gold." I hope that the widow of Captain 
 Reed, who at the date of this writing February 26, 
 1918 is still living, will not be puffed up with hopes of 
 
APPENDIX 377 
 
 a fortune from this item of my black Caesar s Will, but 
 she should be pleased with its unsought tribute to the 
 husband of her younger life. I have kept this Will these 
 fifty-four years and more as a curiosity, and now smile 
 at its legal phraseology, as it reads: "Know all men by 
 these presents that I, Caesar S. Harris, being of sound 
 mind, though infirm body, do, on this 8th day of Nov. 
 1863, declare this to be my last Will and Testament 
 to wit!" It sounds as if the Chaplain was a full-fledged 
 graduate of a law school. 
 
 November 8, 63. Colonel Lowell brought his wife to 
 camp to-day. She was Josephine Shaw, a sister of my 
 classmate Bob Shaw, of whom I have already made 
 mention in Note 6. 
 
 November 9, 63. I put up my chapel tent with the 
 help of six men. 
 
 Sunday, November 15, 63. Could have no service, 
 as the ground in my chapel tent was one puddle of mud 
 after last night s heavy rain. Went to the hospital as 
 usual. 
 
 November 17, 63. I rode to Washington under escort 
 of Sergeant Armstrong and three of his men. I had 
 letters for some of my regiment who were in hospitals 
 there. To find out where they were I went to the rooms 
 of the Sanitary Commission, whose books give the arrival 
 and departure of every soldier to and from every hospi 
 tal in and about Washington. Rev. Frederic M. Knapp, 
 Secretary of the Sanitary Commission, invited me to be 
 his guest for the night. I slept in the room that Presi 
 dent John Quincy Adams used to occupy. 
 
 November 18, 63. Met my classmate Charley Whit- 
 tier at Willards. He is a major on General Sedgwick s 
 staff. I rode back to camp by way of Falls Church with 
 our letter carrier McLean. The camp seems quite 
 
378 APPENDIX 
 
 homelike with Mrs. Lowell here, and Mr. John M. Forbes 
 of Milton spending a few days. 
 
 Sunday, November 22, 63. My chapel tent is thirty 
 miles away. I am at Aldie under the shadow of Mount 
 Zion Church, but not for worship. It is in the enemy s 
 country, and I have been with Colonel Lowell on a scout 
 to Middleburg, and we are now taking our captured 
 prisoners to our camp at Vienna. 
 
 November 23, 63. Visited all the wards of the hospi 
 tal. Told the patients of my experiences yesterday and 
 of the success of our expedition. They were interested 
 and delighted. 
 
 November 24, 63. My colored servant Csesar has 
 recovered from the jaundice, and my dreams of wealth, 
 from the care of his fortune that he intrusted to me by 
 his Will, have vanished in thin air. Had a short but very 
 pleasant ride with Capt. Francis Washburn. He is a 
 brother of Mrs. George M. Bartol of Lancaster, Mass., 
 and of Hon. John D. Washburn of Worcester, Mass., 
 who later became our Minister to Switzerland. I have 
 told elsewhere of Francis Washburn s promotion to be 
 Colonel of the Fourth Massachusetts Cavalry, after the 
 resignation of Col. Arnold A. Rand, and of his marvellous 
 daring on April 5 and 6, 1865, at High Bridge, where he 
 received his mortal wound and was brevetted Brigadier 
 General by special recommendation Jof General Grant, 
 forwarded to Washington immediately after the battle, 
 and when his wound was not thought to be mortal. He 
 lived to reach his brother s home in Worcester, where he 
 died April 22, 1865, amid universal tributes of praise. 
 
 "When faith is strong, and conscience clear, 
 And words of peace the spirit cheer, 
 And visioned glories half appear, 
 Tis joy, tis triumph, then, to die." 
 
APPENDIX 379 
 
 November 25, 63. Had a delightful ride to Washing 
 ton alongside Colonel and Mrs. Lowell. It took us four 
 hours. 
 
 November 26, 63. Day of New England Thanks 
 giving. This has been mine. Before breakfast I ar 
 ranged the mail, directing letters sent here by mistake, 
 and franking those without stamps. After breakfast 
 I went to the hospital, carrying books and papers. I 
 bought yesterday in Washington a Catholic Prayer- 
 book and a Methodist Hymn-book and I gave them to 
 two patients of the Sixteenth New York Cavalry, which 
 with the Thirteenth New York Cavalry and my regiment 
 make Colonel Lowell s brigade. I had the latest edition 
 of the Boston Journal for a man who used to be a re 
 porter for that paper. I had also for another Edward 
 Everett s Oration at the Consecration of the Cemetery 
 at Gettysburg. The patients in one ward had been 
 trying the game of solitaire; some had tried it a hundred 
 times, they said; but not one had succeeded in jumping 
 out all the marbles and leaving the last in the centre of 
 the board. I helped them along a little by doing it 
 once very fast so that they could catch a little idea of it 
 without making it too easy for them to get the whole. 
 In another ward I wrote a letter for a New York soldier 
 sick with typhoid fever, and the convalescent patients I 
 started on the game of tivoli, much to their delight. In 
 another ward I talked half an hour with a New York 
 patient a Frenchman of cultivation, who had been a 
 teacher of French, Latin, and Greek in a New York 
 seminary. The conversation was instructive to me and 
 entertaining to him. In another ward I left Holmes 
 last book of poems, and in the last ward I left "Ida May" 
 and "Hiawatha," and talked half an hour on the war, 
 three patients from the Second Massachusetts Cavalry 
 
380 APPENDIX 
 
 taking part in the conversation. Nearly all the patients 
 were in good spirits, as the day was delightful, and all 
 who could take it were expecting turkey for dinner. So 
 I spent three hours in the hospital and lost my own 
 chance for dinner. For as I returned to camp I found 
 the officers and men all who could be spared starting 
 out for a holiday sport in testing the speed of their horses. 
 Each company picked out its best horse and set him 
 against the rest. Colonel Lowell and wife went out to 
 witness the race, and also all the officers of the Second 
 Massachusetts who could be spared from camp. So, 
 though I had had no dinner and knew that I could have 
 none later, I joined the cavalcade and rode about two 
 miles to Lewinsville, where the race was held. Of the 
 Company horses A Company beat. Of the officers 
 horses Major Forbes blood mare beat. The weather 
 was perfectly splendid bright, sunny, warm, and clear. 
 
 November 27, 63. Took tea and spent the evening 
 with Colonel and Mrs. Lowell and his visitors Mr. 
 John M. Forbes of Milton with his son Malcolm. His 
 older son, our Major, William H. Forbes, of course was 
 there. Had a fine time. 
 
 Sunday, November 29, 63. At 9.45 the bugler sounded 
 the first call for church. At 10.30 our Regimental Band 
 led by Henry Fries brother of Wulf Fries, the noted 
 violoncellist of Boston played a quickstep, and all the 
 men who chose fell into line and marched to the barn be 
 hind Colonel Lowell s headquarters. About seventy-five 
 were present. I preached a Thanksgiving sermon from 
 the text, "Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory." 
 After this service of about forty minutes, I conducted 
 three shorter services in the wards of the hospital. 
 
 December 2, 63. I rode alone to Washington to call 
 on our Captain DeMerritt at St. Elizabeth s Hospital. 
 
APPENDIX 381 
 
 Dr. Nichols told me that he was cured and had just left. 
 I traced him to the Ebbitt House, and was delighted to 
 find that he was about to rejoin the regiment. He seemed 
 perfectly well. I had taken him to Washington, August 
 28th, a wreck in mind and body. He said he did not 
 know how he could ever repay me for my kind atten 
 tions. I told him I was sufficiently repaid by his recovery, 
 and that I had done nothing beyond what, as chaplain, 
 I was bound to do. I met here Bill Lamb Harvard 
 College 1859. He was the basso-profundo of our Harvard 
 Glee Club, and I had a very pleasant chat with him. 
 Then I went to the Carver Hospital and found four of 
 our men and told them about their companions in the 
 regiment and took a good many messages back to them 
 in the camp. I met a private of the Sixteenth Massa 
 chusetts Infantry, who said that his chaplain was Rev. 
 Arthur B. Fuller, and that he was splendid, and that any 
 of his men would have died for him. That was a good 
 thing to hear of an elder brother in the Unitarian ministry 
 whom I had seen many times before he left for the front 
 in 1861 and who died in the service at Fredericksburg, 
 December n, 1862. While in Washington I bought for 
 my camp library some of the best of Scott s and Dickens 
 novels, and then left at 3 .30 P.M. for my lonely ride through 
 the guerrilla country, but fortunately was not chased as 
 I had been several times before. 
 
 December 7, 63. I have received already from home 
 four boxes of books and they are all in constant demand 
 by officers and men. Since payday I have sent a good 
 deal of money by Adams Express home for the men, 
 and have kept a record of each package of currency. I 
 have distributed many games in the hospital checkers, 
 tivoli, solitaire, fox-and-geese, backgammon, and puzzles. 
 It has been so cold lately that with the help of Dearborn 
 
382 APPENDIX 
 
 of Company A a carpenter from Maine I have boarded 
 up the sides of my wall-tent, and on the back side made a 
 large old-fashioned fireplace with a chimney of clayey 
 mud and sticks. Except for a downward draft in some 
 directions of the wind, my fireplace is quite cozy and com 
 fortable. 
 
 December 8, 63. Yesterday, the regiment began 
 regular drills, and to-day I joined them in the mounted 
 dress parade and made a prayer. 
 
 Sunday, December 13, 63. At the morning service 
 in the barn Colonel and Mrs. Lowell and officers from the 
 Second Massachusetts and Thirteenth New York Cavalry 
 were present besides about forty of the men. I had two 
 services in the hospital. In the evening I had a good 
 many callers at my tent, among them Capt. Louis Cabot 
 and Lieut. J. A. Baldwin. 
 
 December 15, 63. I began to-day to make a catalogue 
 of my books so as to check them when loaned. At 5 P.M. 
 I conducted funeral services over two New York cavalry 
 men. In the evening Maj. William H. Forbes, Capt. J. 
 Sewall Reed, Lieut. Goodwin Stone, and I sung in my 
 tent for half an hour, when Dr. Oscar C. DeWolfe came 
 in and we had some hot chocolate together. 
 
 December 19, 63. All who could be spared from 
 camp are out on a chase after Stuart. I could not go 
 because of a funeral service for Sergeant Bishop. I am 
 the only officer left of the Field and Staff. I spent the 
 evening with Mrs. Lowell. 
 
 December 24, 63. I went out to-day a mile and a half 
 beyond our picket line to marry two Rebs at the bride s 
 house. Last Thursday a young man, born in New York, 
 but a year s resident of Virginia, came to my tent and made 
 the request. I feared it might be a trap to let the guer 
 rillas catch me. So I asked Colonel Lowell if it was 
 
APPENDIX 383 
 
 safe. He said, "Perfectly," but that I might have an es 
 cort if I wished. So I promised to go. I set to work at 
 once to prepare a service, as I had never performed the 
 ceremony. I had among my books the King s Chapel ser 
 vice, and with that as a model I prepared a very solemn 
 service that would make the parties hesitate to take the 
 vows if there was any infidelity in the matter. This I 
 thought especially necessary, as I did not know them and 
 there were no courts here to receive promises of marriage. 
 I started at 3.30 P.M. with a guard of three mounted men 
 of my regiment with their sabres, pistols, and carbines. A 
 pleasant ride of two miles brought us to the home of the 
 bride an old-fashioned two-story house, for long years 
 undisturbed by paint, and seriously crippled by age. I 
 stationed my guard on two sides of the house, with orders 
 to give the alarm on the approach of any guerrillas, and, if 
 they came in large numbers, not to regard me but by all 
 means to save my horse. A young man, some relative of 
 the family I suppose, met me at the gate and invited me in. 
 Having got me inside the door, he seemed to think that his 
 part of the programme was finished, for he seated himself 
 without introducing me to any of the family. So I bowed 
 reverently to an old man in the corner, and dutifully to an 
 old lady at his side, whom I took to be his wife, and famil 
 iarly to the young bridegroom, whom I had seen at camp, 
 and as gracefully as I knew how to a young lady at his 
 side, whom I took to be the bride. Some of them may have 
 responded to my salutation, but there was no evidence of 
 it, as I heard nothing and none of them rose. It seemed 
 as if they were all pinned to their chairs. Then, without 
 any invitation, I sat down in the only vacant chair, and 
 asked sundry questions about the family, which were 
 answered in the briefest possible way, generally by a yes 
 or a no or a nod. Then I rose and, with a please, asked the 
 
384 APPENDIX 
 
 bride and bridegroom to stand. When I came in the 
 ceremony to say to the bridegroom, "Wilt thou," et cetera, 
 he shook his head, but whether up and down or sideways 
 I would scarcely dare to swear in a court of law. So I 
 told him to say, "I will." The bride was more ready to 
 respond, and said "I will" as if she meant it. I thought it 
 out of the question to ask if they would signify their 
 union by giving and receiving a ring. I saw no jewelry 
 of any kind, and I did not wish to embarrass them. Even 
 during the prayer none of the company arose, nor when 
 I pronounced the benediction. After this I approached 
 the bride to salute her and went more than half-way, but 
 as she did not move, nor seemed very accessible, I only 
 gave her my congratulations with a shake of the hand, and 
 likewise my good wishes to the bridegroom, and then found 
 my way out without any showing, and mounted my horse 
 and galloped back to camp. A quieter wedding could 
 hardly be imagined. It marked the impoverishment of 
 the country, that there were no neighbors to join in the 
 celebration, no flowers to adorn the bride, no ring to 
 pledge in marriage, no cake to give the guests. Yet the 
 family was respectable and would have been well-off but 
 for the war. Virginia is paying a terrible price for her 
 secession. 
 
 December 25, 63. Christmas Day Friday. In token 
 of the festival I got the band to play for the patients in the 
 hospital. Dr. DeWolfe invited Colonel Lowell and my 
 self to dine with him. A half-dozen callers filled up my 
 evening. 
 
 December 27, 63, Sunday. I preached a sermon ap 
 propriate to the Christmas season, and held three shorter 
 services in the hospital. In the evening, in my tent, I 
 opened my Christmas box from home, with the help of 
 Major Forbes and Lieutenant Dabney. 
 
APPENDIX 385 
 
 January I, 64. I visited the hospital and wished all a 
 Happy New Year. 
 
 January 3, 64, Sunday. This is the coldest day known 
 here for seven years. It nearly froze me in my bed last 
 night and came nearer freezing some of our men on picket. 
 The church call sounded as usual, but only eight men came. 
 The band could not play because of sore lips. I read a 
 few verses from Scripture and offered prayer. Then we 
 sung a hymn and I gave the benediction. I went down 
 to the hospital to hold services, but the patients detained 
 me so long in talking with them individually that I had 
 no time for a formal address. I think I did them more 
 good by my sympathy than I could have done by my 
 exhortations. 
 
 January 8, 64. The Chaplain s quarterly report on 
 conditions in the Regiment: 
 
 CAVALRY CAMP 
 VIENNA VA. Jan. 8th 64 
 To C. CROWNINSHIELD 
 
 MAJOR COMMANDING 2D MASS. Cav. 
 
 I have the honor to submit the following report of the 
 moral and religious condition of the regiment as observed 
 in the quarter ending Jan. 1st, 64, and further in accord 
 ance with "Revised Regulations," I respectfully offer 
 certain suggestions for the social happiness and moral 
 improvement of the troops. 
 
 As to the religious condition of the regiment, I cannot 
 speak with any certainty. True religion is never de 
 monstrative, and it would need an acquaintance of years 
 to know to what extent each man recognized his relations 
 to God, and his obligations to obey God s laws. These 
 things constitute religion, and they cannot be measured 
 by words or tabulated by figures. Still while I cannot 
 speak with certainty of whatever true religious feeling and 
 
386 APPENDIX 
 
 principle there may be in the regiment, it is easy to ex 
 pose habits and practices that must inevitably, if un 
 checked, undermine all religious feeling and weaken all 
 religious principle. Most prominent among these is the 
 habit of profanity, by which I mean only the taking of 
 the name of God lightly and thoughtlessly upon the lips. 
 This thoughtless familiarity with the name of the Deity is 
 sure to breed contempt for his rightful authority over the 
 actions of men. 
 
 Those who take his name lightly upon their lips cannot 
 have his law an abiding influence in their lives, and those 
 who habitually take his name in vain, will surely, though 
 perhaps insensibly, lose all reverence for his sacred char 
 acter, and his solemn commands; and this reverence for 
 God s character and law is the foundation of all religion, 
 and the only sure guide to a true life. For these reasons 
 I can suggest nothing that will more conduce to the 
 religious improvement of the regiment, than absolutely 
 to forbid all open profanity, and to charge all commissioned 
 and non-commissioned officers with the execution of the 
 order, for all profanity is an infringement of military 
 rule, as well as a violation of the laws of God. The ex 
 tent to which profanity has become a habit both among 
 officers and men is really appalling. I cannot pass down 
 any company street without hearing the name of God 
 either taken lightly in sport or irreverently in a curse. I 
 cannot even sit long in my tent without hearing loudly 
 shouted some imprecation with the name of God thought 
 lessly added. Men imprecate curses upon their horses in 
 the name of God, and so loudly that all in the neighbor 
 hood can hear, and yet I have never but in one instance 
 seen it rebuked. Officers in the same way imprecate 
 curses on their servants, and sometimes upon their men. 
 Oftenest, however, the name of God is taken lightly in a 
 
APPENDIX 387 
 
 sportive jest. I do not speak of these things in any way 
 because they grate harshly on my own ear, but wholly 
 because of their influence upon those who practice them. 
 Regard or respect for my office I gladly give this tribute 
 restrain profanity in my presence; I would that regard 
 for God would restrain it everywhere. But as this 
 cannot be relied upon as a sufficient restraint, it seems 
 necessary to enforce strict military rule to that effect. 
 
 Besides the profanity of trifling with God s name, there 
 is also the profanity of trifling with God s judgments by 
 curses and execrations. This habit is as open and com 
 mon as the other. Men call down the wrath of heaven 
 and imprecate the pains of hell upon their horses or upon 
 one another as thoughtlessly as they would say "Good 
 morning!" To curse in jest is sacrilege, to curse in earnest 
 is blasphemy. Both are violations of military as well as 
 divine law, and officers should be charged with their 
 suppression. While we believe in God s approval of 
 our cause, and pray for his help, let us not trifle with his 
 judgments, not take his name in vain. 
 
 Another obstacle to the moral and religious improve 
 ment of the regiment is the slight attendance upon church 
 service. I speak of this with great diffidence as I am 
 conscious of great weakness in conducting public religious 
 service. I have not years to give authority to my in 
 structions, nor experience to give weight to my teachings, 
 nor eloquence to make them attractive. Still I do my 
 best, and such service is almost the only means I have to 
 call the attention of the officers and men to their religious 
 obligations and sacred duties. The men have attended 
 as regularly and in as large numbers as could be expected 
 while their duties were heavy, and their officers gave them 
 little encouragement by their example. The former 
 cause is a necessity of the service, the latter is in contra- 
 
388 APPENDIX 
 
 vention of the direct recommendation of the Articles of 
 War. I did not wish to accept your offer to require at 
 tendance upon church service, but would be glad if you 
 would strongly recommend such attendance by officers and 
 men. 
 
 As to the moral condition of the regiment, it is good 
 while the temptations to immorality are withdrawn. 
 Men cannot gamble after they have exhausted their own 
 money, and that of those who are cajoled into lending to 
 them, nor will they get intoxicated when the whiskey is 
 out of their reach. Still there is more gambling and 
 intoxication than there should be or need be. I respect 
 fully suggest that you advise Company commanders to 
 recommend to their men as they have opportunity 
 to send their money home or put it on deposit. This to 
 restrain gambling. I also suggest as a preventive of in 
 toxication that you recommend to officers never to 
 give an order for whiskey, unless they feel sure that it 
 will not be abused. I am sorry to have to report in this 
 connection that I have seen even one officer intoxicated in 
 camp, and have heard in ways that compelled me to 
 believe the truth of the statement, that another officer 
 has been intoxicated when on duty. While I am proud 
 of the general character and bearing of the officers, it is 
 sad to record even a single instance of such loss of self- 
 respect. 
 
 In conclusion I beg leave to report in general that there 
 seems to be a better tone of feeling in the regiment now 
 than in the early part of the quarter. Many who then 
 tried to get into some other organization have since 
 confessed that it was a most foolish movement, while the 
 rest have settled down into a resigned content. There is 
 less complaint of duty and discipline, though I suppose 
 that neither of them has been relaxed. The sharing 
 
APPENDIX 389 
 
 together of dangers and service is daily giving more har 
 mony and unity to the regiment. While we are in winter- 
 quarters the men need not find time lie heavily on their 
 hands, as I can supply all that wish it with entertaining 
 reading. The hospital is in very good condition, and 
 our sick and wounded are in general cheerful and con 
 tented. 
 
 I close with the hope that in another quarter I may be 
 more faithful to my duties and more successful in my 
 work, and that the regiment may go on improving morally 
 and spiritually till we all become true soldiers "without 
 fear and without reproach." 
 
 All of which is respectfully submitted 
 
 C. A. HUMPHREYS 
 Chaplain 2d Mass. Cav. 
 
 January 13, 64. I distributed to-day five knit caps 
 among the officers and forty pairs of cavalry mittens 
 among the men. 
 
 January 14, 64. While taking my usual exercise this 
 afternoon riding horseback, I met as frequently of late 
 Colonel and Mrs. Lowell, out for the same purpose, 
 and I joined them for the rest of the ride. 
 
 January 20, 64. I rode with Mrs. Lowell this morn 
 ing to witness the brigade drill. It was an imposing 
 sight. 
 
 January 23, 64. The band played this evening before 
 Colonel Lowell s headquarters, and on their return vol 
 unteered one tune before my tent. 
 
 January 30, 64. At the hospital, by the death-bed of 
 a New York cavalryman, Mrs. Colonel Lowell and I 
 held a little service, helping to make less lonely for him 
 the passing over. This month has seen many changes in 
 
390 APPENDIX 
 
 our officers. We had as good a set as ever led a regi 
 ment, and that is the reason they are leaving for pro 
 motion. We have given six lieutenants, two captains, 
 two majors and one surgeon to the Fifth Massachusetts 
 Cavalry (colored), besides supplying it with a colonel 
 Harry Russell, who was chiefly instrumental in putting 
 me here. We have also given a lieutenant colonel 
 Francis Washburn and senior major Louis Cabot 
 to the Fourth Massachusetts Cavalry. We also supplied 
 one captain to the Twenty-fifth New York Cavalry. 
 Their places are supplied by promotions from the ranks. 
 
 February 4, 64. One of the patients at the hospital, 
 who fought so furiously in an engagement, and with his 
 sabre pierced his Rebel adversary three times and then 
 received a shot himself, is now well and returned to duty 
 to-day. Another patient, who was shot through the 
 breast by a guerrilla, has recovered, and is now walking 
 round. It is strange to see men recover after such 
 dreadful wounds. 
 
 February 6, 64. A deserter from E Company was 
 brought in to-day. He had left us only two weeks 
 before and was caught in the act of charging upon our 
 men with a body of guerrillas whom he was leading. But 
 they deserted him as soon as they saw that our party 
 was nearly as large as theirs, and then he tried to escape. 
 A sergeant of his own company pursued him, and the 
 deserter turned in his saddle and fired several shots at 
 the sergeant. A ditch happened to be in the way of the 
 deserter s flight, and in the attempt to jump it his horse 
 came short and fell into it. The deserter then tried to 
 run away, but the sergeant was too quick for him, and, 
 though he had exhausted all his shots, he held his empty 
 pistol to the face of the deserter and made him surrender. 
 He had on a Rebel uniform and had fired at his former 
 
APPENDIX 391 
 
 Sergeant every charge that he had in his pistol. His 
 weapons were all taken away, his arms tied behind his 
 back, and his feet tied to the saddle girth, and thus he 
 was brought in, reaching camp about 3 P.M. A drumhead 
 court-martial was at once ordered, Lieutenant Dabney 
 acted as judge advocate, and at the request of the de 
 serter I acted as his counsel. After sitting about two 
 hours the court sealed its judgment and adjourned. I 
 did not know the sentence till after breakfast Sunday 
 morning. Then Colonel Lowell sent for me and told the 
 deserter s doom. I went immediately to the guard-house 
 and the deserter requested to see me alone. So the guard 
 stationed themselves outside. His first question was, 
 "Well, Chaplain, what are they going to do with me?" 
 I said, "They are going to shoot you at eleven o clock." 
 He was thankful, he said, that they did not sentence him 
 to be hanged. (The execution of the sentence is described 
 in the main text of this book, pages 19-22.) 
 
 Sunday, February 14, 64. I offered prayer at dress 
 parade this morning and appeared at inspection. Had 
 three services in the hospital about noon. Had regi 
 mental service at 2.30 P.M. 
 
 February 17. 64. Miss Nellie Shaw came to camp to 
 visit her sister, Mrs. Colonel Lowell. She brought some 
 jew s-harps for the men in the hospital and they were 
 much appreciated. 
 
 February 19, 64. Took tea at Colonel and Mrs. 
 Lowell s with Miss Nellie Shaw. She is charming. 
 
 February 21, 64. Sunday. Church call as usual at 
 10.30. Although four companies were away or on duty, 
 a larger audience than usual gathered at the barn, among 
 them Colonel and Mrs. Lowell and Miss Shaw. 
 
 February 22, 64. To celebrate Washington s Birth 
 day and at the same time give pleasure to the patients 
 
392 APPENDIX 
 
 in the hospital I had the band play for them this morn 
 ing, and I went through the wards as usual. In the 
 afternoon the regiment had some field sports till 5 P.M. 
 At 5.30 news came that Capt. J. Sewall Reed s scouting 
 detachment of one hundred and twenty-five men had been 
 ambushed and badly cut up by Mosby. In twenty 
 minutes we started to their relief with two hundred men. 
 We went two miles beyond Drainesville and found that 
 Captain Reed and eight men had been killed, and 
 eight lay wounded on the field, while Capt. George A. 
 Manning and Lieut. William C. Manning and fifty-five 
 men were taken prisoners. To the surgeon and myself 
 was left the care of the wounded and the dead. The 
 latter we placed in a large open wagon, and the 
 wounded in such other vehicles as we could find in the 
 vicinity. We dared not take two who seemed to be 
 dying but who might possibly revive if unmoved. We 
 worked hard all night. Some of the wounded had 
 broken legs, and screamed with agony as we lifted them 
 into the wagons. These farm wagons were without 
 springs, and as we wended our way home over the 
 rough roads the cries of the wounded were excruciating. 
 One of them died before we arrived in camp, which was 
 about ten o clock in the morning. I came in a little 
 ahead of the column to break the news of Captain Reed s 
 death to his wife, who had come to visit him. She knew 
 better than I did that he was a man without reproach, 
 but I could tell her that he was a soldier without fear, 
 and faithful to every duty, and much loved by his men. 
 Later in the day I took the body to Washington, to 
 be prepared for its long journey to Massachusetts, 
 and the next day, after celebrating, in presence of the 
 whole regiment, the funeral rites due to the others whom 
 we brought in from Drainesville, I accompanied Mrs. 
 
APPENDIX 393 
 
 Reed to her home in Dorchester, where the funeral of 
 her husband was held. Captain Reed had been one of 
 our camp quartette, and it was more than a month before 
 we had the heart to sing again. Then one of his best 
 friends Lieut. Josiah A. Baldwin took his place with 
 us, and camp began to assume again something of an 
 aspect of cheerfulness. Meanwhile the music of the band 
 had been a comfort, as it played every night at sunset 
 and sometimes later in the evening. The disaster at 
 Drainesville brought not only to the whole camp this 
 long month of depression in spirit, but to me a marked 
 depression also of vitality. Its three days and nights 
 of exhausting labors took away from me ten of the fifteen 
 pounds of added weight which I had gained in the three 
 previous months after I had become acclimated to camp 
 life. While I was in Dorchester a lady from Watertown 
 came to me and inquired very anxiously about her son, 
 who was in my regiment. I told her that when I left 
 camp he was perfectly well. At that moment he was 
 very sick in the camp hospital, and when I returned he 
 was dead and buried. I appreciated what a terrible 
 blow that would be to his mother; so I sought out every 
 comforting thought and every pleasant reminiscence, and 
 arranged to have the body sent home, and then wrote 
 to her as best I could. At such times one learns to be 
 thankful for his faith in the care and love of the Father 
 in Heaven. 
 
 Sunday morning, April 10, 64. Captain Phillips of 
 our regiment brought in ten prisoners. He had been 
 out less than twenty-four hours, and yet had gone twenty- 
 five miles to Aldie and taken these Confederates from 
 their beds. Some of them had been engaged in the fight 
 at Drainesville. Their capture caused us a good deal of 
 satisfaction. This was the New England Fast Day, and 
 
394 APPENDIX 
 
 I made my service appropriate to the occasion, taking 
 my text from Isaiah Iviii. 6, "Is not this the fast that I 
 have chosen?" I chose as the voluntary, the Prayer 
 from "Der Freischutz," which was beautifully rendered 
 by the band. My prayer followed, taking its suggestion 
 from the sweet harmony of the great composer, and 
 expressing the deep desire of the soul to be in harmony 
 with God. In my address I spoke first of the duties we 
 owe to ourselves of self-examination and spiritual improve 
 ment, and second of the duties we owe to humanity in 
 this crisis of the nation s history. Nearly all the officers 
 were present, with Colonel and Mrs. Lowell, and many 
 of the men. After the service I went down to the hospital 
 and went through the wards, speaking a word to each 
 patient, and then held a service in Ward 2. I delighted 
 two men that day at least. One was a Frenchman, the 
 other an Italian; and I gave each a Testament in his own 
 language, as neither of them could read English. I had 
 sent to New York for these books. 
 
 April II, 64. At II A.M. I married C. Mason Kinne 
 and Lizzie K. D Arcey. Kinne is our Adjutant, as popu 
 lar a man as there is in the whole brigade. So the interest 
 was very great. He had heard through another of our 
 officers of an attractive young lady a friend of that 
 officer s wife and had started a correspondence with her 
 about three months ago. About six weeks ago the wife 
 and her friend came to Washington and then to camp, 
 and have been here since; and the Adjutant has seen no 
 reason to regret his chance correspondence, and asked 
 me to marry them. So last Saturday I went to see the 
 young lady and made her acquainted with the form of 
 marriage that I should use. She said she had a very 
 strong sense of the ludicrous, and she was afraid that some 
 little accident of word, or some humorous aspect of the 
 
APPENDIX 395 
 
 unusual surroundings, would make her laugh. I assured 
 her that there was no reason for her to fear, and that the 
 solemnity of the service and the deep significance of the 
 vows would overbalance all inclination to lightness. 
 They were married in a house just outside the camp, and 
 all the officers of the regiment were present who could be 
 spared from duty. They little thought of the sacred 
 nature of the occasion, and were quite merry before the 
 couple appeared. I first addressed the gathered friends, 
 declaring that matrimony was "an honorable estate 
 instituted by God and approved by what is highest and 
 best in man, and forasmuch as it should not be entered 
 into lightly or unadvisedly, but reverently, discreetly, 
 and soberly," I charged them, if any one knew "cause or 
 just impediment why these two persons should not be 
 united in matrimony," he should then declare it. No 
 one protesting the banns, I then addressed the couple, 
 and adjured them by every solemn obligation to confess 
 if they knew any reason why they might not lawfully be 
 joined in marriage. The bride had by this time forgotten 
 all thoughts of the ludicrous, and the deep solemnity of 
 the situation started the fountains of her tears. Then 
 I put to them the usual questions answered by "I will," 
 and said, "You will now declare your plighted love by 
 giving and receiving a ring," and while he held it on her 
 finger he repeated after me, "With this ring I thee wed, 
 and to thee only do I promise to keep myself so long as 
 we both shall live." Then she repeated after me, "This 
 ring I take in pledge, and to thee only do I promise to 
 keep myself so long as we both shall live." Then I 
 declared them "husband and wife," and offered prayer, 
 and called down upon them the benediction of heaven. 
 The service thus closed, I congratulated them and wished 
 them all possible happiness. Till this moment the bride- 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 groom had kept a firm countenance, but now he too 
 burst into tears, and even among the officers looking on 
 there was scarcely a dry eye. Still, solemnity is not in 
 consistent with joy. The tears of the bridal couple were 
 the overbrimming of their cup of happiness, and the 
 officers wept in happy sympathy, and wondered if such 
 joy would ever be their own. Military etiquette holds 
 even at weddings, and Colonel Crowninshield was the 
 first of the officers to step up and congratulate the couple, 
 and he saluted the bride in such a brave, blunt way that 
 everybody smiled, and the other officers took courage 
 and felt that they could do as the Colonel did. It was a 
 soldier s freedom, and several who had never spoken to 
 her took the liberty of a kiss. All agreed that this was 
 the nicest wedding they had ever seen. The Adjutant 
 has a pass for two or three days to make a bridal tour 
 to Washington rather a strange one, in box cars along 
 with prisoners and contrabands, but it will do for war 
 times, and it made little difference to the newly wedded 
 in their happy absorption in each other. As I am copy 
 ing this description of the wedding from a home letter 
 written in the afternoon of the day of the ceremony, April 
 II, 1864, and this is March 7, 1918, 1 will now add that this 
 marriage proved to be one of the happiest that I ever 
 knew. The bride of that day, four years ago made a 
 widow, found the chief comfort of these later years in the 
 happy memories of her wedded life. She sent me from 
 the home of her daughter in Berkeley, Cal., a card of 
 Christmas remembrance, December 25, 1917, and on 
 January 7, 1918, passed on herself, leaving behind her 
 two daughters and six grandchildren. 
 
 April 13, 64. I rode to Washington and carried a 
 pistol for the first time to defend myself from guerrillas. 
 Saw Miss Anna Lowell at Amory Square Hospital in 
 
APPENDIX 397 
 
 Ward K and arranged for her to receive my Camp Library, 
 as the spring campaign is soon to open, and I must be 
 ready to move at the shortest notice. After receiving the 
 box she sent me this response: 
 
 My dear Mr, Humphreys, The box of books was very 
 welcome, and I wish you could have seen the eagerness 
 with which my men took them out when the box was 
 opened. I never happened to have any of the games you 
 sent, and the Jackstraws especially have been greatly 
 enjoyed. I wonder that I never thought of them before. 
 
 I hope when you are in Washington you will not pass 
 our hospital without coming in, for I shall always be glad 
 to see you. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 ANNA LOWELL. 
 
 April 25, 64. Went to Washington to send home for 
 my men in the regiment nineteen hundred dollars of their 
 last pay-day receipts. As I dined at Willard s, General 
 and Mrs. Burnside were at the next table. His corps 
 passed through Washington, and President Lincoln 
 watched them from a balcony at Willard s, and he was 
 rousingly cheered by the soldiers as they passed. In the 
 evening I recreated by going to see Davenport in Othello. 
 
 Sunday, May I, 64. No regimental service to-day. 
 The whole brigade is out, as the spring campaign is open 
 ing at the front. I spent several hours of the morning at 
 the hospital. In the afternoon I went out maying with 
 Mrs. Lowell. We picked pansies and violets in profu 
 sion, as they grew wild in the woods. On our way back 
 we caught sight, in the distance, of our brigade scouting 
 party led by Colonel Lowell, and the way Mrs. Lowell 
 walked to welcome her husband was a delight to see, but 
 I could hardly keep up with her. For myself, I had at 
 
398 APPENDIX 
 
 once to be busy with the care of the wounded and the 
 dead. A sergeant a fine soldier had been killed, and 
 Captain De Merritt had been wounded, with two of his 
 men. Twenty-four Confederate prisoners were captured 
 and sent on to Washington. Colonel Mosby s commis 
 sion and many of his private papers were found, among 
 them a vote of thanks by the assembly at Richmond for 
 his boldness and skill in capturing General Stoughton at 
 Fairfax. [Two months later he was to try his "skill" 
 on me at Aldie, but without success, as revealed in the 
 story of my capture the next day, after his chasing me, and 
 while I was caring for the wounded and burying the dead 
 at Aldie. (See pp. 99-114.) I may as well copy here a 
 letter I received from him forty-two years later when I 
 invited him to dine with me: 
 
 THE BRUNSWICK, 
 COPLEY SQUARE, 
 BOSTON, MASS., 
 APRIL 27th, 1906. 
 
 My dear Sir, On my return to-day from Maiden where 
 I spent last night I received your kind letter. I regret 
 that I cannot accept your polite invitation. This even 
 ing I am engaged with the Middlesex Club. Tomorrow 
 evening I leave for Washington. 
 
 Very truly, 
 
 JNO. S. MOSBY. 
 
 Sunday, May 15, 64. Colonel Lowell s mother from 
 Cambridge was at my service to-day. 
 
 May 20, 64. We are very anxious to get to the front. 
 I have no love for a fight, but I want to be with those 
 who like my younger brother are in The Wilderness 
 bearing the burden and heat of the conflict. I wrote to 
 my Divinity School classmate W. W. Newell the other 
 day, advising him to leave the White Mountains and 
 
APPENDIX 399 
 
 come out here and do something for the war. His next 
 letter was directed from Washington, and now he is in 
 Fredericksburg tending to the sick and wounded. A 
 week ago I was in the Sanitary Commission offices in 
 Washington and heard them order four thousand crutches. 
 That is only one small item of their immense expenses. 
 I visited one only of the hospitals, and saw several thou 
 sand wounded soldiers all cheerful sufferers. How 
 glorious it is that men will risk everything for what they 
 hold dear! 
 
 May 21, 64. As the First Battalion of our regiment, 
 composed of Companies C, F, G, and I, are stationed at 
 Muddy Branch to guard the fords of the Potomac in that 
 section, I feel that I must make them a visit. So I 
 started to-day for Washington alone on my roan horse 
 Jaques, with my saddle-bags and my india-rubbercoat; 
 and as it was a very warm day I rode leisurely, taking 
 three hours for the trip. I dined at the Ebbitt House, 
 where I had agreed to meet Capt. Charles E. Rice and 
 Lieut. John T. Richards, who were returning to their 
 battalion in Maryland. They soon made their appear 
 ance, and we started at 6.30 for a ride of twenty-three 
 miles to Muddy Branch. It was a very pleasant ride in 
 the cool of the evening. We reached camp at 10.30, and 
 I have seldom seen a prettier sight than as it appeared 
 then in the moonlight. I could only think of Aladdin s 
 Palace or a spectral encampment. Every one but the 
 guards was asleep, and in the officers quarters each bed 
 was occupied except the one reserved for me. Rice and 
 Richards crawled in with some other officers. 
 
 Sunday, May 22, 64. Six of us officers went to 
 church in a neighboring village, and we heard a Presby 
 terian preacher, and I stopped for the Communion, as 
 the pastor s invitation specially gave a welcome to mem- 
 
400 APPENDIX 
 
 bers of the church in all denominations. I was a little 
 chagrined, however, when the minister addressed us who 
 communed as "saved" and the rest who looked on as 
 "lost." I had been a member of my home church for 
 eight years, but had never learned that there was any 
 safety for the soul but eternal vigilance, and I surely did 
 not think that my fellow-officers who remained in the back 
 seats of the church were any worse than myself. The 
 preacher said that unless they joined the company of 
 the communicants they were "as oxen or asses driven 
 to the eternal slaughter-house." I would not partake of 
 the elements of Communion after that false and insulting 
 description of my companions. 
 
 We had ridden about four miles to church, and on the 
 way back we escorted a young and charming governess 
 home to the house of an old Southern planter who as a 
 suspected Rebel had been confined for a time in Fort 
 Lafayette. But he was very hospitable to us and in 
 vited us to stop to dinner and to come to his house at any 
 time. However, we stopped only to rest and refresh 
 ourselves for a few minutes. That evening, at my re 
 quest, a dress parade was held, and after it I held a service 
 and addressed the men as they sat down on the grass. 
 Then we spent the rest of the evening singing in the 
 open air. 
 
 The next day Captain Rice and Lieutenant Richards 
 escorted me on a cool and beautiful ride of about twelve 
 miles up the river, on the towpath of the canal, and we 
 inspected the log houses where our men are stationed to 
 guard the fords of the Potomac. At Edward s Ferry we 
 stopped and dined with a planter who looked of the type 
 of Legree in "Uncle Tom s Cabin." Nearly all his 
 slaves had left him. None remained but old women and 
 children, and these were at work out of doors on the hay 
 
APPENDIX 401 
 
 and corn. He treated us very kindly, and would take 
 nothing for our fare. 
 
 After resting about two hours we jogged on through a 
 very rich and fertile country that has become historic 
 through the war. I saw the place where General Banks 
 division was stationed in 1861, and the ford where General 
 Hooker crossed with his whole army on the way to Gettys 
 burg. At about six o clock we stopped for the night in 
 the fine mansion of a rich citizen who was a Union man 
 when the Union armies were about and a Confederate 
 when the Confederates were near. All the servants were 
 slaves, but very much attached to the family, and seem 
 ingly very contented. The landlord was absent in 
 Washington, but the landlady was at home and well able 
 to entertain us. We found her in the fields directing and 
 assisting the slaves in planting potatoes. She was a 
 strong, muscular woman of great spirit, but with a gentle 
 manner and tender feelings. With old Greek hospitality, 
 before asking any questions she brought out the wine for 
 our refreshment. She spread a fine table with spring 
 chickens and cold meats and preserves, tea and coffee, 
 and other things too numerous to mention. In the 
 evening we went out on the veranda and sang, and later 
 I went into the parlor and assisted a young daughter of 
 the family in her music lesson. On retiring, the hostess 
 gave us the best chamber in the house, with two large 
 feather beds, so high that we had to run and jump to get 
 into them. I sank into mine about two feet, at least, 
 my centre of gravity sank that distance, while my feet 
 and head were raised high in air. This situation might 
 have been quite endurable in winter, but on a warm 
 summer night it was too hot and I could not get asleep 
 till towards morning when the air was cooler. Captain 
 Rice and Lieutenant Richards got snugly into bed, when 
 
402 APPENDIX 
 
 they stirred up a nest of bees at the foot, and the way they 
 jumped out of bed was laughable to see at least, to the 
 onlooker. They soon lighted a lamp and had a skirmish 
 of about five minutes with the bees and succeeded in 
 killing some and scattering the others. The rest of the 
 night passed quietly. We had an early breakfast, and, 
 receiving each of us a bunch of beautiful flowers from the 
 children, and making them little presents in return, we 
 started. The landlady would take nothing, though she 
 kept five of us and our horses over night. We had two 
 orderlies to accompany us. 
 
 We now directed our course towards Sugar Loaf Moun 
 tain, the highest elevation in Maryland. It had been 
 used for a signal station by the armies of both sides. We 
 found the upper air very refreshing, and enjoyed the 
 beautiful view. Descending, we stopped for dinner at 
 a house under the hill, and, as luck would have it, met 
 there a very attractive Southern beauty. It was a long 
 time before anything was said, as no one introduced us. 
 At last I got up courage to ask her the name of a yellow 
 rose that was in view on the piazza. This led to a talk, 
 and the talk led to a conversation, and the conversation 
 led to admiration, and admiration led to . I must not 
 confess the tender passion, lest I be thought too sus 
 ceptible. But her beautiful eyes, her pearly teeth, her 
 soft rich voice, her captivating smile well, fate compelled 
 us to take up our journey, and with lingering glances I 
 left the Southern beauty in her home under the hill. 
 
 We started away at three o clock towards Poolesville 
 and reached Muddy Branch at 6.30, having had a very 
 pleasant trip of about fifty miles. 
 
 The next morning I bade good-bye to our First Bat 
 talion and started at nine o clock for Washington. The 
 ride was very beautiful. Between the canal and the 
 
APPENDIX 403 
 
 river there is a strip of land varying from fifty to five 
 hundred feet in width and covered generally with a rich 
 growth of trees that furnished refreshing shade. I made 
 the twenty-three miles in a little less than three hours, 
 and after resting my horse and having him rubbed down 
 and fed, and after dining and visiting the Sanitary Com 
 mission, I started again at four o clock and had got along 
 about half-way to our camp at Vienna when I met one 
 of our men who informed me that Vienna had been 
 evacuated and nothing was left there. This was a great 
 surprise to me. Hitherto I have always happened to be 
 in camp when we have been ordered to move, and have 
 generally succeeded in getting all my things away. This 
 time a good many of my things were left behind, and it 
 will take a long time to get what of my things was moved 
 into order. I am writing now sitting on a box with my 
 writing case on the top of my trunk. We are now at 
 Falls Church, four or five miles nearer Washington than 
 before, and we guard its whole front. It is a very pretty 
 camping-ground. I have slept on the floor the last two 
 nights here, and though I have found no soft side to the 
 boards, they are better than that feather bed in the 
 mansion by the Potomac. 
 
 June 8, 64. At 3 P.M. started for The Wilderness with 
 five hundred men and a train of fifty ambulances to 
 bring off some of the wounded who still survive. (See 
 pages 49-58.) 
 
 June 19, 64. In my home church to-day. Rev. 
 Nathaniel Hall preaches a sermon commemorative of 
 brother Walter, who was killed at Cold Harbor. I wish 
 I could be present, for I know that the flow of sympathy 
 from our Pastor s full heart would be a balm to my 
 wounded spirit. I hope that father will not allow this 
 bereavement to trouble him overmuch. 
 
404 APPENDIX 
 
 June 20, 64. I have been to Washington to express 
 money home for the men. I met Gen. Frank Bartlett, 
 perhaps the youngest general in the service only twenty- 
 three. He graduated from Harvard two years after I did. 
 
 June 24, 64. I have received many tender expressions 
 of sympathy in my brother s death at Cold Harbor from 
 my friends among the officers here and from Mrs. Lowell, 
 though hers was not given in words, but in looks and a 
 warm pressure of the hand. She could not express it. 
 
 This afternoon, I had just come in from a ride of twelve 
 miles and had taken my supper when word came that 
 Mosby had captured forty of our New York Cavalry and 
 had left three wounded men on the field at Centreville, 
 fourteen miles from here. Major Forbes was ordered to 
 go for them with one hundred troopers and two ambu 
 lances. The Doctor and I went with him. We started 
 at nine o clock and rode till 2 A.M., when we halted to 
 rest the horses. At 3.30 we started again, and soon found 
 the wounded men. Two were mortally wounded, the 
 other seriously. The Doctor gave them some whiskey 
 to stimulate their sluggish vitality, and some morphine 
 to ease their pain and make them sleep. I got them 
 into the ambulances, and we started back at about 5 A.M. 
 As I rode behind the ambulances to be ready for any 
 help to the wounded and the dust was very stifling 
 and the sun very wilting, I became much fatigued; but, 
 getting to camp at 10 A.M., I sponged myself all over and 
 felt all right again. 
 
 June 26, 64. Sunday. On account of the heat I 
 held my service at undress parade in the early evening 
 6.45 o clock. 
 
 July 3, 64. Sunday. I addressed the regiment at 
 undress parade on the auspicious omens of success in 
 our struggle for liberty and union. 
 
APPENDIX 405 
 
 July 4, 64. The regiment celebrated Independence 
 Day with various sports foot-racing, jumping of horses, 
 and so forth. At 8 P.M. I started out on a scout with 
 Major Forbes and one hundred and fifty men to watch 
 the gaps of the Blue Ridge. [The story of the fate of this 
 expedition is told in the body of this book, pages 93-144.] 
 
 September 2, 64. I had five minutes notice to leave 
 Charleston Prison. I did not haggle about the shortness 
 of the notice, as it was to take me again under the Stars 
 and Stripes. 
 
 September n, 64. Sunday. Beaufort, S.C. I rode 
 out into the country thirteen miles on horseback to see 
 Will Gannett and his work for the freedmen. I addressed 
 his plantation negroes at their praise-meeting. 
 
 September 13, 64. Hilton Head. At II A.M. I took 
 the steamer Fulton for New York. Had a splendid day. 
 Stayed on deck all the time. 
 
 September 16, 64. Arrived at The Narrows at 5 A,M. 
 In the course of the day I called on Ned Wetmore and 
 Horace Howland and Jim Fay college friends. Took 
 the night train to Boston and arrived home at 6.30 
 A.M., September lyth. Joyful welcome and glad return. 
 In the course of the day I went to see Mr. John M. 
 Forbes and Mr. William Amory to report on the condi 
 tion of their sons my messmates in prison. 
 
 Sunday, September 17, 64. Brother Richard loaned 
 me a pair of black trousers and I went with the family 
 to the old home church on Meeting House Hill. 
 
 September 18, 64. Dined with Mr. and Mrs. William 
 Amory at Longwood, Brookline, and told them of my 
 efforts to get their sick son my messmate released 
 from the Charleston Prison, and encouraged them to 
 believe that they would have him at home in a few weeks. 
 
 September 23, 64. By invitation of Mrs. John M. 
 
406 APPENDIX 
 
 Forbes of Milton I took the 10 A.M. train with her for New 
 Bedford and then her husband s yacht Azalea for their 
 summer home on the island Naushon. 
 
 Sunday, September 25, 64. All of us Mrs. Forbes 
 and her ten other guests besides myself went to the west 
 end of the island to spend the day. With thirty-two 
 horses in the stable, all trained to the saddle, there was no 
 lack of facilities for riding, and there were boats by the 
 shore for rowing; and for delightful aspects of animal 
 life there were herds of deer roaming freely in the woods. 
 
 September 26, 64. Besides taking two baths in the sea 
 and two walks in the woods, I wrote to-day about twenty 
 letters for the prisoners at Charleston, S.C., and sent 
 them to their nearest relatives. 
 
 September 27, 64. Misses Annie and Jeannie Watson 
 from Milton and Miss Katie Putnam from Boston came 
 down to Naushon to-day and made the island still more 
 attractive to a convalescing chaplain. I had intended 
 to go home to-day, but decided to stop. This afternoon I 
 met on the shore the marine artist Swain Gifford, who 
 comes here frequently to sketch. You would think he had 
 bidden good-bye to his senses to see him attitudinizing 
 towards the sea, sometimes wrong side up to get impressions 
 of the water from various angles of vision. 
 
 September 28, 64. Had a delightful ride horseback 
 to-day with Miss Annie Watson. 
 
 September 30, 64. Mrs. Forbes and I had some very 
 confidential conversations to-day, such as I never before 
 had with any one but my sisters. She wanted to unburden 
 her oppressed soul, and I was very willing with such a 
 lovely lady to reveal mine. Every day here the ladies 
 gather and work for the soldiers, knitting warm socks or 
 gloves for the coming winter, or binding the silky softness 
 of the long hairs of the milkweed into cushions of various 
 
APPENDIX 407 
 
 shapes to relieve the bed-sores of the patients in the 
 hospital. It has been a great pleasure to me to distribute 
 these things among my men. 
 
 October I, 64. Misses Putnam, Cabot, and Tyson, 
 and Mrs. Swain, and Artist Swain Gifford and I bade 
 farewell to Naushon. Had a splendid sail till the wind 
 blew up a choppy sea and the ladies became inclined to 
 seasickness. So, to distract their attention from them 
 selves and the choppy sea, I started them to sing with me 
 "Rally round the Flag," and as they shouted the "Battle 
 Cry of Freedom" the sea lost its power over them and all 
 was well. 
 
 Sunday, October 2, 64. Heard my minister. Rev. 
 Nathaniel Hall, at the home church, and walked with him 
 to his home after service. He invited me to address his 
 people next Sunday. Took tea with Rev. James Walker, 
 D.D., ex-President of Harvard. 
 
 October 4, 64. Went up to Milton and got a little 
 thoroughbred Morgan mare Annette which Mr. John 
 M. Forbes asked me to accept for service in the field. 
 
 October 6, 64. After dinner I went down to New- 
 buryport and spent the night with Jacob Stone, father of 
 Capt. Goodwin Stone, who was mortally wounded by a 
 shot intended for me in the chase by Mosby, July 6th. 
 
 October 9, 64. From the pulpit of my childhood s 
 church I told the story of my capture and imprisonment. 
 
 October 10, 64. Dined with Ned Amory at his home in 
 Longwood. His father made me a present of one hundred 
 dollars and gave me a letter of credit on London for twenty- 
 five pounds sterling to be used in case I was captured 
 again. I had it sewed within the lining of my coat-collar, 
 where it would not be likely to be found by my captors. 
 
 October 12, 64. Called on Mrs. Lowell, mother of my 
 Colonel. 
 
408 APPENDIX 
 
 October 13, 64. Father and I took my horse Nettie 
 to the cars for New York in the morning, and in the 
 afternoon I bade a tearful farewell to my home. Joy 
 through tears. Took the five-o clock Fall River boat- 
 train for New York. 
 
 October 14, 64. I put my horse in charge of the Cam- 
 den & Amboy Transportation Company for Washington, 
 then called at the office of Francis G. Shaw, father of my 
 honored classmate Robert Gould Shaw, the hero of Fort 
 Wagner, and of my beloved colaborer in camp and 
 hospital, Josephine Shaw Lowell, wife of my Colonel, 
 Charles Russell Lowell. Then I took the 1 1 A.M. boat for 
 Staten Island to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Francis G. 
 Shaw, where their daughter Josephine was eagerly and 
 anxiously awaiting the time of her deliverance of her first 
 child, and wished me to bear messages to her husband, who 
 was fighting with Sheridan in the Shenandoah Valley. I 
 had a very delightful four hours with mother and daughter 
 and then took the boat back to New York with a thousand 
 loving messages for my Colonel. But, sad to tell, they 
 never reached him, as, only five days after, he received his 
 fatal wounds at Cedar Creek. At that time I was in 
 Washington calling upon his sister, Miss Anna Lowell, 
 at the hospital, where I found many of the wounded of my 
 own regiment. After returning to New York from my 
 visit to Mrs. Lowell at Staten Island I spent a very pleasant 
 evening with two Cambridge friends, Miss Watson and 
 Miss Hobart. 
 
 October 15, 64. After spending the night at the 
 Brevoort House and after making a friendly call on Ned 
 Wetmore, I met another classmate, William Eliot Furness, 
 by appointment, and he accompanied me on the noon 
 train to Philadelphia and made me his guest at his father s 
 house. After dinner, Dr. William H. Furness, who lives 
 
APPENDIX 409 
 
 next door, sent in word that he would like to see me in 
 his study. I had for a long time admired him for his 
 courage in the championship of human freedom and had 
 wished to be introduced to him. He at once invited me 
 to speak in his pulpit on the morrow, though he told me 
 he had his sermon all prepared. I was surprised at the 
 invitation, being so little known to him. I objected 
 on the grounds that I wanted to hear him and that I had 
 no black clothes. He would not listen to either objection, 
 and said he had a Quaker parish, and it made no difference 
 to them what I wore. I at last consented to make a 
 simple address from the platform in front of his pulpit 
 and he offered to conduct all the other services. After 
 the hymn he introduced me as Chaplain of the Second 
 Massachusetts Cavalry and a brother in the ministry who 
 had given himself early to the war for freedom and union, 
 and had suffered captivity. He then came down from 
 the pulpit and sat in the front pew where I had been sitting 
 with Mrs. Furness. Then I told to his people the simple 
 but moving story of my captivity in Southern prisons, 
 and had from the beginning the tearful sympathy of the 
 audience. There was one person in the audience who 
 I knew was interested, for he looked as if he would jump 
 over the railing of the gallery where he had been much 
 to my surprise singing in the quartette-choir. There 
 was another reason as he told me after the service for 
 his greater surprise in seeing me. He had seen an item 
 in the paper about the death of Tom Fox and Henry Hall, 
 and my name had been linked with theirs as neighbors 
 and schoolmates in Dorchester and classmates in Harvard, 
 and he thought that I had been killed like them in battle. 
 This choir singer was another classmate of mine, who had 
 sung first bass with me in the college chapel choir and the 
 Harvard Glee Club. He was Joseph Shippen, younger 
 
410 APPENDIX 
 
 brother of Rev. Rush R. Shippen, and I knew he spoke 
 sincerely when he said to me, "My face was one wreath 
 of smiles and tears all the time you spoke." And Dr. 
 Furness was so much moved that, as we walked home 
 after church, he urged me to make up my mind to come 
 and be his colleague. I also had an invitation to come 
 to Germantown and build up a parish. Of course I 
 could not give any encouragement to either invitation, as 
 I must not desert the cause of my country for any personal 
 advantage. I spent the evening with Dr. Furness and 
 his son Horace and then took a night sleeper for Wash 
 ington. 
 
 October 20, 64. After three days in Washington 
 spent in gathering together my effects which had been 
 stored during my imprisonment, and taking what I might 
 need for service in the field, and after getting passes to 
 the front for my horse and myself, I started at 8.30 P.M. 
 by train to Martinsburg. 
 
 October 21, 64. I had to wait in Martinsburg all day 
 for my horse to arrive. I spent a good part of the day 
 reading Mrs. Hemans poems. Indeed I read more of 
 them to-day than in all my life before, and found that I 
 liked her more than ever. Poor Nettie did not get in till 
 7 P.M., having had no feed since yesterday noon. 
 
 October 22, 64. Breakfasted at 7.30 and then saddled 
 up and started at 8.30 for Winchester without rations or 
 forage. Nettie did not like the feeling of the saddle-bags 
 and the packed saddle and jumped a good deal. In her 
 cavorting she jumped a brook four feet wide like a deer, 
 but I retained my seat with perfect ease and at last sub 
 dued her. We went along with a wagon train a mile and 
 a half long guarded by a brigade of infantry and a squad 
 ron of cavalry. The day s journey was twenty-two miles, 
 and we went very slowly and with many halts. At three 
 
APPENDIX 41 1 
 
 o clock I was glad to get some bread and milk in a house 
 by the way, and, as luck would have it, I found a small 
 bag of oats by the side of the road and so satisfied Nettie s 
 needs. It was a very cold day and hailed a while, but I 
 arrived safely at 8 P.M. and put up at Virginia Hotel. 
 
 Winchester, October 23, 64. No trains going to the 
 front to-day (Sunday), so I visited the cavalry hospital 
 to see if I could find any of my men. I did find six or 
 eight wounded or sick. They seemed delighted to see 
 me, and were much interested to have me tell something 
 of my prison experience. I divided ten dollars among 
 them, and got from the Sanitary Commission a blanket 
 for one of them who was both sick and wounded. I found 
 also two officers, Captain Kuhls and Lieutenant Crocker, 
 both wounded in the late fight in which Colonel Lowell was 
 killed. Poor Mrs. Lowell! I parted from her last week 
 and she said she would meet me next winter in camp. 
 Poor Mrs. Lowell! That is all I can say. Words cannot 
 express her bereavement. I wrote to her to-day. 
 
 October 24, 64. Started from Winchester at 7.30. 
 Reached camp near Middletown at one o clock, a ride 
 of fourteen miles from Winchester by the road over which 
 Sheridan galloped five days ago and saved the day at 
 Cedar Creek. What a glorious victory was that! It 
 was due, under him, to the valor of the Sixth Corps and 
 the Cavalry. I am now camping on the field of the 
 Battle of Cedar Creek. It was near this spot where 
 Colonel Lowell received his mortal wounds. Lieutenant 
 Colonel Crowninshield succeeds Colonel Lowell in com 
 mand of the brigade, and I reported to Captain McKendry, 
 commanding my regiment. It makes a very different 
 appearance from that it had less than four months ago 
 at Falls Church, near Washington, when I left it July 
 4th for the scout with Major Forbes which ended in our 
 
412 APPENDIX 
 
 captivity. Poor fellow! he is still a prisoner of war. 
 I sleep to-night with Dr. Oscar C. De Wolfe, whose place 
 I took in the fight at Aldie. He is now Brigade Surgeon. 
 The band gave me a beautiful welcome back in a delight 
 ful serenade, among other pieces playing "Home Again" 
 very touchingly. 
 
 October 25, 64. Breakfasted with Captain McKendry, 
 Adjutant Kinne, and Dr. Johnson, who now, with me, 
 are the only field and staff officers, and of the line officers 
 only four are now on duty with the regiment. What a 
 change from last summer, when we had twenty or thirty 
 with us! In the fight at Cedar Creek we lost two officers 
 and five men killed and three officers and twenty-one men 
 wounded. We have only two wall-tents for the field and 
 staff. I am to sleep to-night with Dr. Johnson. I spent 
 most of the day talking with the men. They seemed very 
 glad to see me, and shook my hand heartily with their 
 rough grasp. They said they had been thinking of me a 
 great deal. I wish I could do more for them. Towards 
 evening the mail came in, and I attended to the distribu 
 tion of the letters and papers and packages. 
 
 October 26, 64. It is not difficult here to live the 
 simple life, indeed there is nothing else to do. Just now 
 the army is having a week s rest after the decisive battle 
 of Cedar Creek, and we expect that the fall campaign is 
 about over. I have nothing here but what I brought 
 along on my horse. It is quite cold and I have to sleep 
 in my overcoat. My bed is first the ground, then a thin 
 layer of straw, then my india-rubber blanket, then a 
 shelter tent of cotton duck for the under sheet and a 
 second shelter tent for the upper sheet, then a horse- 
 blanket and a government woolen blanket for warmer 
 coverings. I take off everything but my underflannels 
 and socks, and put on my army overcoat and lie down and 
 
APPENDIX 413 
 
 am quite comfortable. We eat our meals from tin plates 
 on top of a box, and we sit about the box on pails upside 
 down or any block or other support we can find. For 
 food we have nothing but beef, hardbread, and coffee 
 regularly; at times potatoes, bacon, and flour griddle- 
 cakes. 
 
 October 27, 64. Last night it rained hard and the wind 
 blew the tent over so much that water collected on it and 
 dripped through so that I was lying in quite a pool of 
 water before I was wakened by it. I called to the sentry 
 to straighten out the tent, and then I pulled out the cotton 
 duck sheets which held the uninvited puddles of water, 
 and lay down again in a dry bed. My Morgan mare 
 Nettie does not like these exposures in the rain and cold, 
 and is restless and pulls up her stake nearly every night. 
 Last night she lamed herself in the effort. 
 
 Sunday, October 30, 64. I visited E Company, which 
 just now is doing provost guard duty. Dined with Dr. 
 De Wolfe. At five o clock we had undress parade, and 
 I spoke to the men on the lessons of my captivity. 
 
 October 31, 64. Wrote letters for some of the soldiers 
 who had neither paper nor pens. Called on Colonel 
 Crowninshield at brigade headquarters. Rode with Dr. 
 Johnson to Strasburg and back, to see the fields that were 
 fought over a few days ago. 
 
 November i, 64. Captain McKendry, who is com 
 manding the regiment, invited me to ride with him to the 
 north fork of the Shenandoah, for observation. 
 
 November 2, 64. Orders came at 9 P.M. to be ready 
 to move in the morning. 
 
 November 3, 64. Our brigade broke camp at 6 A.M. 
 It rained all day, but my india-rubber poncho protected 
 me well and we reached Winchester at 3 P.M. We en 
 camped for the night on the outskirts of the town. Our 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 official name is "Cavalry Reserve Brigade," com 
 manded by my classmate Col. Caspar Crowninshield, and 
 our march of sixteen miles to-day was in column of fours. 
 First was an advance guard of fifty troopers, two or 
 three hundred yards in front. Then came the baggage- 
 train of fifty-eight wagons in two lines side by side, that 
 they might not be too extended for safe defence. By 
 the side of the wagon train, marching along through the 
 fields, was the brigade led by Colonel Crowninshield, 
 followed immediately by the color-bearer and the provost 
 guard; then the band, which played as we went through 
 the towns. My regiment was the last in the column and 
 made a rear guard for the train. Arriving near Winches 
 ter, the Colonel s inspector picked out a place on which 
 to camp for the night. He chose a central place for the 
 headquarters and disposed the regiments at convenient 
 distances around it. Our place having been assigned, 
 the regiment is arranged in four squadrons, one behind 
 the other, and then the men dismount, unsaddle their 
 horses and drive stakes by which to tie them. Then 
 they pitch their tents, feed their horses and get their 
 own supper. The field and staff officers are assigned a 
 place in front of the regiment, and our headquarters 
 wagon comes up and throws out two tents and our blankets 
 and two or three camp chairs, and then the pioneers 
 pitch our tents, drive stakes for our horses, and cut and 
 bring wood for a fire, about which we gather. The 
 pioneers are a corporal and five men. Their duty in battle 
 is to pull down fences or build bridges for the advance. 
 As soon as the tents were up, our servants made our beds 
 and then began to cook our suppers. Our headquarters 
 mess consisting of Captain McKendry, commanding 
 the regiment, and Adjutant Kinne and myself had for 
 supper the usual pork, hardbread, and coffee, which we 
 
APPENDIX 415 
 
 carry with us, and, as extras, we bought white bread in 
 Winchester and also some flour from which our servants 
 made griddle-cakes. The two doctors Johnson and his 
 assistant mess by themselves. We spent the evening 
 sitting about the fire, though it still rained. Most of 
 our evenings in the field are thus passed, as we have no 
 candles and no desks nor tables to sit at in our tents. We 
 all went to bed about 9 P.M. 
 
 November 4, 64. The bugle waked us at 4.30. We 
 had all slept well, though it poured in torrents all night; 
 the morning was dark as pitch, and it rained hard while 
 we were at breakfast. But soldiers cannot wait for good 
 weather, and at 6.30 the bugler sounded the order to break 
 camp. Then the tents were taken down, the horses 
 saddled, and the tents and blankets of the men were 
 strapped to the saddles. The officers tents and blankets 
 were put into the wagon with the chairs. Then the bugle 
 sounded forward and we started. The skies cleared soon 
 after dawn, and we had a pleasant journey of twenty- 
 seven miles and encamped again within three or four miles 
 of Harpers Ferry, and had nice beds of straw and splendid 
 fires of rails. Our brigade burned that night all the rails 
 that could be gathered within a quarter of a mile, and the 
 fences were five feet high and untouched when we came. 
 No wonder the farmers dislike our visits; but this is war, 
 and we are in a section of the country that is infested with 
 guerrillas and has often been used as a path for the Con 
 federates to the threatening of Baltimore and Washington. 
 
 November 5, 64. A large mail reached us last evening 
 and I was very busy distributing it till we broke camp at 
 II A.M. and moved to the outskirts of Charlestown and 
 encamped within view of the spot where John Brown was 
 hung. As we marched through the town the band played 
 lively patriotic airs, but the stores were shut, the public 
 
416 APPENDIX 
 
 buildings mostly in ruins, and the streets deserted. From 
 the hill near by, which was the scene of the execution, 
 can be seen the hills of a free State of Maryland re 
 deemed. John Brown s body lies a-mouldering in the 
 grave, but his soul is marching on. We are here to be 
 near the construction corps, which is building a railroad, 
 for the Government, from Harpers Ferry to Winchester, 
 and to act as a guard to protect the workmen from the 
 raids of guerrillas. It is a bitter cold day and some 
 snow has fallen. We have no rails here for our fires, as 
 the army has been here quite lately and used them all, 
 so we use green wood from the forest. Just as we were 
 about to dismount, a sow and a litter of eight fat pigs 
 came grunting down towards us. Alas! Poor pigs! 
 A charge was made upon them with drawn sabres and not 
 one was left to tell the tale, but many a soldier dined 
 to-day on fresh pork. Before night, my servant got from 
 a stack half a mile away a bundle of straw for my bed 
 and made it luxurious. 
 
 Sunday, November 6, 64. It is milder to-day, and 
 we had an undress parade at 5 P.M., at which I had a short 
 service and spoke to the men from the text, "Here we 
 have no continuing city." The aptness of the text to our 
 present service brought a smile to the faces of the hearers. 
 
 November 7, 64. I rode out with Colonel Crownin- 
 shield to see the work of the construction corps. They 
 get along now about a mile a day, but will soon go faster, 
 and we expect to have to move to-morrow or next day 
 to keep up with them. 
 
 November 8, 64. This is Presidential election day, 
 and I sent home the vote of the regiment Lincoln, 238; 
 McClellan, in. I received to-day a lot of papers and 
 distributed them among the officers and men. I give the 
 men about half a dozen sheets of paper with envelopes 
 
APPENDIX 417 
 
 every day we are in camp. They write in pencil their 
 letters and I address and frank them in ink. The men 
 have no money now, and if they had it they could buy no 
 paper here. 
 
 November 10, 64. We moved two or three miles to 
 day to keep up with the construction corps. 
 
 November n, 64. I breakfasted with Mr. and Mrs. 
 George Washington, who live near our camp. He is 
 great-great-grandnephew of the Father of his Country. 
 Mrs. Washington is a fine lady and a generous provider, 
 as witness her table loaded with honey, apple butter, 
 cider, hoecakes, corn cakes, apples, and coffee. 
 
 November 13, 64. Moved camp to Summit Point. 
 
 November 17, 64. Moved camp to Opequan Creek. 
 
 November 18, 64. Captain Holman of our regiment 
 is now on Sheridan s Staff, adding another to the long list 
 of our fellow-officers who have been honored by high 
 promotion. Lieutenant Baldwin, who used to be a 
 member of our camp quartette, was wounded two months 
 ago and put into a house near by, and has lain in one 
 position for nine weeks. He has received every possible 
 attention from the tenants of the house and the neighbors, 
 but had seen no Union man. Imagine his joy when 
 we camped here. I have taken him to-day the late 
 papers. He cannot be moved yet, but in two or three 
 weeks expects to be taken to his home in Newton, Mass. 
 I received to-day six letters of anxious inquiry about the 
 fate of certain men of our regiment. One of them was 
 killed when I was taken prisoner. Another was killed 
 two months ago near here. Sad news that I must send! 
 
 November 19, 64. I received to-day from Sammy 
 Groom inkstand and pens. It is very kind of him to 
 remember his old playmate and neighbor and to be so 
 interested in the soldiers. 
 
418 APPENDIX 
 
 Thursday, November 24, 64. I offered prayer to-day 
 at dress parade on the occasion of the annual New Eng 
 land Thanksgiving. 
 
 Sunday, November 27, 64. Had a full service at dress 
 parade this morning. We are encamped now near 
 Stephensons station. 
 
 November 30, 64. After I had gone to bed last night, 
 orders came to be ready to move at daylight this morning. 
 I got up at four o clock, and before five minutes had 
 passed, an emergency order came to be ready to move 
 immediately. So I flew round and ate a little breakfast 
 and filled one of my saddle-bags with hardtack and started 
 with the brigade at five o clock. My servant carried the 
 forage for both horses. We went through Berryville to 
 Snickers Gap. When we forded the Shenandoah River, 
 Nettie was almost swept away by the force of the stream. 
 She is so small that I had to double my legs up to keep 
 myself out of the water. Descending the eastern slope 
 of the Blue Ridge, we could see why we came out as the 
 smoke of a hundred barns and haystacks rose in Loudon 
 County valley before us, the destructive work of the other 
 two brigades of our division who had started one day 
 before us. Our part in the work of destruction I have 
 described in the body of this book. (See pages 190-192.) 
 
 December 3, 64. Returned to our camp near Winches 
 ter. I am delighted to find that Nettie seems equal to 
 any work I am likely to require of her. She carried me 
 the last four days with my saddle heavily packed, the 
 first day fifty miles, the second day thirty miles, the third 
 day twenty-five miles, and to-day fifteen miles, and came 
 in fresher than when she started. She surprises every one 
 by her endurance. I did not attempt to assist in carrying 
 over the ford of the Shenandoah any of the livestock we 
 gathered together in Loudon County. I remembered 
 
APPENDIX 419 
 
 the difficulty I had in keeping myself out of the water 
 when we crossed on the way out. It was a great work 
 to get the droves of cattle, sheep, and hogs across the 
 river, which was about forty rods wide. The hogs and 
 the sheep absolutely refused to swim. So the hogs had 
 to be killed, that they might give no comfort to the 
 enemy, and each cavalryman took a sheep over on his 
 horse. 
 
 Sunday, December n, 64. No service to-day. The 
 snow is six inches deep, and we have no shelter. It is 
 very cold in this bleak valley. To give a little protection 
 to Nettie from the wind I have had tall branches of pine 
 stuck into the ground about her. 
 
 December 16, 64. It has been hard enough to live 
 out of doors till the middle of December. A great part 
 of each day in camp I could do nothing but stand before 
 a log fire and turn round as upon a spit, to keep both 
 front and back warm. It is too cold to read or write. 
 I did read a little of Tennyson, but all laughed at me as 
 crazy for doing it. The Bible and Tennyson are the only 
 books I have. Just now I am in a log house that Colonel 
 Crowninshield will occupy when he returns from his 
 leave of absence to visit his home. Then I shall have a 
 log house with Major McKendry. I have just received 
 a letter from Mrs. John M. Forbes, saying that twenty- 
 five more mittens are on the way. I have already dis 
 tributed fifty-eight pairs. They save a good deal of 
 suffering. 
 
 December 28, 64. Thank Heaven! I am back again 
 safe. Have just returned from a ten days raid towards 
 Gordonsville. The hardships and suffering of a cavalry 
 raid in winter can hardly be imagined. Cold hands and 
 feet that cannot be warmed, sleeping on the snow, riding 
 in the piercing wind from sunrise to sunset, breakfast at 
 
420 APPENDIX 
 
 5.30 and supper at 8 no other meal, fording deep and 
 rapid streams, my horse giving out on the third day, 
 sights of suffering in others, men dismounted walking till 
 their boots wore out and opened, exposing bleeding feet, 
 such things have made the last ten days full of weariness 
 and suffering. It rained three days, snowed one, and the 
 rest were dreadful cold. It doesn t seem as if I could 
 get warm in a week. (Other details of this expedition 
 are told on pages 194-203.) 
 
 January 6, 65. A large box of good things from home 
 came to-day, and I thought I could not make a better use 
 of it than to divide it among many. So, having with the 
 help of Adjutant Kinne spread out its contents upon a 
 large table in tin plates, I had "officers call" sounded 
 by the bugler right after tattoo," and all came who 
 were in camp fifteen of them and feasted till "taps," 
 8-8.30 o clock. The bright faces, the good cheer, the 
 warm thanks to the folks at home, cannot be described. 
 I think the mince-pie received the highest praise, though 
 the wreath-cake was the most admired, as both beauty 
 and symmetry were displayed in its form. The cheese 
 was also a highly appreciated luxury. The thin crisp 
 cookies disappeared marvellously. I enjoyed so much 
 the eagerness with which the things were eaten that I 
 tasted of nothing but the mince-pie and the guava jelly. 
 The only thing that remained was one box of guava jelly 
 and this I am keeping for the Captain, who is on picket 
 to-night. 
 
 January 9, 65. My Morgan mare is still very lame. 
 I have not ridden her for a month. She has had to stand 
 so much in the mud that comes here with every melting 
 that the sores on the lower parts of her legs will not heal. 
 Poor creature! I do not see how she can live through the 
 winter. My man is working on the stable for her and 
 
APPENDIX 421 
 
 Loudon every day, and is meaning to corduroy the floor 
 with logs. Just now they are both standing in four inches 
 of mud and do not lie down even at night. 
 
 For myself I think I have got over the bad effects of 
 that freezing raid to Gordonsville, though now the cold 
 makes me shiver quicker than it used to. I find great 
 protection at night in a knit woollen cap that has been 
 sent from home, and in the last few days I have distrib 
 uted a dozen of them among the officers, who wear 
 them in their quarters as an ornament almost as much 
 as for protection. To-day two captains came in and 
 asked if I had any of those knit caps left. I had just two, 
 and they took them thankfully. One more came to 
 night, and I gave it to Ned Amory my messmate in 
 prison. He has just returned. Major Forbes my other 
 messmate has not yet returned, as the formalities of 
 exchange have not been completed. I hope he will be 
 back soon. I rode to Winchester to-day and met two 
 of General Sheridan s staff Captain Holman, who used 
 to be a line officer with us; and Assistant Medical In 
 spector John Homans, H. C. 1858, with whom I used 
 to sing in the Chapel choir and College Glee Club at 
 Harvard. 
 
 February I, 65. Sheridan to-day held a grand review 
 of all the cavalry in the Valley. It looks as if he meant 
 to take us into action as soon as the season will permit. 
 All the other officers when passing the General saluted 
 him by dropping the sabre after lifting it to the chin. 
 I, having no arms, lifted my cap, and old Phil bless 
 his soul! returned the salute and lifted his cap to me. 
 
 Camp Russell, Virginia, February 10, 65. The days 
 do not seem to lengthen very fast, so two meals a day 
 satisfy us. I am in Headquarters mess with Colonel 
 Crowninshield, Major McKendry, Adjutant Burlingham, 
 
422 APPENDIX 
 
 and Quartermaster Pinkham. We have breakfast at 8, 
 and dinner at 3. No supper. I get up about 7.30. I 
 do not indulge in the luxury of a bath except in com 
 fortable weather, and that happens at this season about 
 once in two weeks. I have to thaw out the water nearly 
 every morning before I can wash my face and hands. 
 My poor hands are sorely chapped, and I cannot keep 
 them looking clean. My servant comes in and makes 
 a wood fire on the hearth and blacks my boots before I 
 get up. My toilet and a few calisthenic exercises fill 
 the time till breakfast, at which we do not linger long 
 in this cold season, as the mess-tent has no fireplace. 
 After breakfast I attend to the mail and send it off. 
 Then I sit down to read or write till dinner, but am 
 interrupted every few minutes by applicants for paper 
 and envelopes, or mittens, or books, or information. 
 After dinner, if the weather is anyways pleasant, I take 
 a ride on my Confederate mare, Loudon, who is a fine 
 animal with a dainty step as if dancing to music. It 
 is a great pleasure riding her. I rode out to-day, though 
 the snow is very deep, to see if I could find any stone fit 
 to build a chimney for my new house. I saw some in 
 an old cellar a mile out, but mostly hidden under the 
 snow. As soon as it is possible I shall send out for some 
 of them. My Morgan mare seems better of her lameness. 
 To-day, while tethered, I saw her kick up her heels like 
 a rabbit when he springs. "Retreat" is sounded at 
 sunset and then we have music by the band. It is a 
 great treat to us. After that, I read till the mail comes 
 at seven o clock, when I assort and distribute it. If I 
 get letters myself, I generally answer them the same 
 night. If I have no writing to do, I read till ten o clock, 
 and, after warming my feet, climb into my bed. I say 
 climb, for it needs some gymnastics, as my bed is higher 
 
APPENDIX 423 
 
 up than my shoulder. It is a bunk right over Major 
 McKendry s. 
 
 This week I have been rejoicing in the declared determi 
 nation of Congress to establish universal freedom. Now 
 let them give us men to carry it out. The sword must 
 still be our savior. The Rebels will fight to the bitter 
 end. 
 
 February 12, 65. I received last night an atlas from 
 home. It is just what was wanted here. Men go on 
 furlough to all States from Maine to Iowa, and many 
 have asked me for a map to find the best way. Then too 
 we have not seen the field of Sherman s operations. To 
 day is Sunday, my usual distribution day, and I have for 
 each company some copies of the Transcript, Journal, 
 Advertiser, Post, and Christian Register from Boston, 
 and the Evening Post, Army and Navy Journal, and 
 Christian Inquirer from New York, and also LittelUs Living 
 Age and the Atlantic Monthly. I gave also a pair of knit 
 mittens to the first sergeant of each company, to be given 
 to any man who needed and deserved them. The money 
 that has been sent to me has gone as fast as it has come. 
 No one else has any money here, and I run the mess. The 
 paymaster is daily expected, but it is ten months since 
 we have seen him. We also are suffering many other 
 privations our effects, clothes, boots, blankets, and so 
 forth, stored in Washington and but just beginning to 
 come to us, without enough wagons to draw wood for 
 our fires, our horses suffering for lack of shelter, with no 
 hay but once a week, with few blankets, water and wood 
 nearly two miles away, and yet this is the severest winter 
 ever known in these parts. But nearly everybody is 
 cheerful and expecting better things soon. I long for 
 fruit very much. We have nothing but onions to keep us 
 from scurvy. Major McKendry brought lately some 
 
424 APPENDIX 
 
 apples from home and gave me two and I ate them as a 
 starving man would. 
 
 February 21, 65. We are ordered to be in readiness to 
 move. This is only the second day that I have been in 
 my new home. When a month ago my friend Rev. 
 Henry Wilder Foote of King s Chapel sent me a big box 
 of books that he had gathered among his parishioners 
 [see Note 4, p. 303.) I had no good place to put them, as I was 
 tenting with Major McKendry. So I had a new house 
 built for me, with walls of heavy logs and floor of split 
 logs, the space enclosed being about sixteen feet by eight 
 feet, the fireplace of stone in the middle of one side, my 
 bed in the end, my writing-table opposite the fireplace, 
 and shelves for books along the same side. Now I fear 
 the shelves will be useless, but the books I will try to get 
 to some hospital, as Foote suggested. Since "taps" I 
 have been writing to him my thanks for the splendid 
 collection. I have had at least fifty callers to-day, and 
 everybody got a book to his liking. They are mostly in 
 fine editions, and have been a great acquisition to us. 
 
 February 26, 65. 
 
 CAMP RUSSELL, VIRGINIA. 
 
 My dear Brother Richard, This is probably my last 
 home letter from the Shenandoah Valley. Reveille will 
 sound at three o clock to-morrow morning and we must 
 up and away. I received yesterday the two dollars you 
 enclosed, and am much obliged for the promptness with 
 which you sent it. It came when I was actually in debt, 
 and so was doubly acceptable. I have now over $250.00 
 loaned out in the regiment, and in my pocket only $2.50 
 with which to start early to-morrow with Sheridan on a 
 raid of unknown direction and length. You may think 
 this is poor economy in me, but I think it satisfies the rules 
 of a higher economy. At least / am satisfied. We 
 
APPENDIX 425 
 
 hear that the Paymaster has started from Washington, 
 but we know he hasn t reached here, and we do not see 
 any chance of his catching up with us. Nobody has ever 
 yet caught up with Sheridan after he started on a raid. It 
 must be very hard on the families of the soldiers in this 
 regiment, as most of my men have not received a cent of 
 pay for ten months. They however keep wonderfully 
 cheerful, though they often speak of it as hard. 
 
 I doubt whether we ever return here. Still I have no 
 idea where we are going. Being a Yankee, I take the 
 liberty of guessing that we are to join Grant, and I surely 
 hope so. 
 
 To-day I have been very busy packing. I have put 
 my regimental library into two large boxes and nailed 
 them up and directed them to the Sanitary Commission, 
 but I do not know as they ever can be got there. We are 
 two miles out of Winchester, and all baggage and stores 
 are going to Harpers Ferry. The agents of the Commis 
 sion must have their hands full to get their own stuff to 
 the rear, and will scarcely be able to send out here for 
 the books. Still I am going to try it, and have sent an 
 orderly to Winchester to see if it is possible. If the books 
 fall into Rebel hands, they will not aid their cause. The 
 spirit of every page of them is against disloyalty, and 
 would be worse than a spy or a traitor in Rebel camps. 
 Of course we take along with us only what is absolutely 
 essential, not one wagon except for ammunition. It is 
 very early to open the campaign, but Grant knows no 
 winter quarters. The mud here is half a foot deep and 
 will try the horses severely. I did not quite see how I 
 could get along. Loudon could not carry me and my 
 blankets and forage, and Nettie is still lame. What 
 should I do with her? I could not turn her out to starve. 
 Yet I know of no one who could take her to the rear. 
 
426 APPENDIX 
 
 And what should I do for a pack-horse. Nothing is im 
 possible to him that believeth, so I gave myself no anxiety, 
 but kept my eyes open for any opportunity. One soon 
 offered itself. Colonel Crowninshield, I discovered, has 
 more horses than he can take care of when we move. So 
 I proposed to him to buy one, or to take one along and keep 
 it for him. (Please excuse a parenthesis. This moment 
 my boxes of books have gone. I am so pleased! I feared 
 they would be lost. The orderly I sent carried a note 
 from me to the Agent of the Sanitary Commission in 
 Winchester asking him to send, if possible, a team for the 
 books. The orderly just arrived back escorting a team 
 of the Commission, and bringing a note from the Agent 
 saying that books were always acceptable, especially the 
 kind that I had. Now, after employing happily our 
 leisure for two months, they will go elsewhere on the same 
 errand of mercy to cheer and exalt the soldier. Wilder 
 Foote will be especially pleased when he hears this.) 
 Now to return and take up the dropped thread of my 
 story. The Colonel preferred that I should take and use 
 one of his horses for the present, and indeed was glad of 
 the chance to have her taken care of. She is a dun- 
 colored mare, as stout as a buffalo and almost as wild. 
 The Colonel advises me not to ride her in a fight, as then 
 she is perfectly unmanageable. I shall be careful about 
 it, but I think I can master her by kindness and will. I 
 believe with Richard Wade in Winthrop s story of 
 "John Brent" that all that is needed is for the horse 
 and rider to feel that they have the same will. If a horse 
 is obstinate I try to make him believe that my will lies 
 in the same path with his, feeling sure that soon his will 
 follow in mine. The Dunn, as I call her, has a tremendous 
 neck, very masculine indeed. She disdains the curb and 
 insists on tossing her head scornfully in which perhaps 
 
APPENDIX 427 
 
 she is feminine. But I shall make as if I did not notice 
 her, and she will soon leave it off. The only way to meet 
 haughtiness is with silent neglect. The Dunn is not 
 handsome, though she is very spirited. Her best qual 
 ity for my purpose is her toughness and strength. I shall 
 pack sixty pounds of forage on her the first day, and ride 
 Loudon with only my overcoat and poncho. My servant 
 will go with me, and my horses will be better provided 
 for than in any former expedition. I am also in luck in 
 having found a man who is going to the rear and will take 
 Nettie in charge. He is Hiram Mellen of our Quarter 
 masters Department. 
 
 Here I must stop off short. It is 10 P.M. and I must 
 write to Mrs. John M. Forbes to acknowledge the receipt 
 of fifty more pairs of cavalry mittens for my men. It 
 will please me greatly to be able to tell her how nicely 
 I have provided for the mare that came from her hus 
 band s stables. Dr. Emerson of Concord will also be 
 pleased, as he used to ride her. Please tell Sister Mary 
 that I was delighted with the book she sent me "John 
 Brent." I never tire of reading of the chivalric virtues. 
 Indeed I have tried to emulate the true Knights of Chiv 
 alry, though I have added Duty to the knightly virtues, 
 giving it the precedence before Honor. Love and Duty 
 claim my highest devotion, and for them I will battle to 
 the end. 
 
 My love to all the family, 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 April 6, 1918. After this last letter of February 26, 
 65, I could not keep a diary till the end of the war. I 
 wrote home a few letters in pencil, but it is almost im 
 possible to decipher them now. Some years ago, how 
 ever, I wrote out all the movements of the cavalry till 
 
428 APPENDIX 
 
 the end of the war and they will be found in the body of 
 this book. The whole book has been a labor of love 
 scattered over many years, under the impelling feeling 
 that, having passed through so many and so various 
 experiences in the course of my service in the last two 
 years of the Civil War, I ought to set them down plainly 
 and truly, so that, when the history of the Civil War shall 
 be written, my individual testimony may help in forming 
 a true judgment. And I have also felt that while the 
 chords of the human heart thrill to the touch of courage 
 and devotion, the story of the Civil War will find eager 
 listeners and stimulate responsive heroisms. 
 
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