UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES
 
 GEN. J. MADISON DRAKE
 
 Historical Sketches 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Revolutionary and Civil 
 
 Wars 
 
 With an account of author's desperate leap from a swiftly 
 
 moving train of cars, and a fatiguing tramp of 1,000 
 
 miles through three Confederate states, in 
 
 making his escape from a Prison-pen 
 
 BY 
 J. MADISON DRAKE 
 
 Captain Ninth N. J. Volunteers and Bt. Brig.- 
 General by special act of N. J. Legislature 
 
 Historian Ninth N. J. Volunteers, Past Historian Medal of Honor 
 
 Legion, U. S. A., and author of " Fast and Loose in Dixie," 
 
 and " Across the Continent in Red Breeches" 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 Printed for the Author 
 Bv THE WEBSTER PRESS 
 
 1908
 
 Copyright, 1908 
 By J. MADISON DRAKE
 
 * J 
 
 $71 h 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 ^ 
 
 A T the earnest and repeated solicitations ot many citizens 
 
 jf"\ I present this volume to the public, the chief object of 
 
 which is to preserve in convenient form many personal 
 
 - incidents which enlivened the war for American Liberty 1775- 
 
 1783 as well as the war for the preservation of the Union 
 
 1861-1865. 
 {/) 
 
 j The sketches of the Revolutionary War are founded upon 
 
 legends I fondly heard when a youth from revolutionary sires 
 and their descendants, as well as from official reports and state- 
 ments appearing in the newspapers of that period, while those 
 relating to the Civil War furnished by the actors, some of whom 
 are still living, are given that the heroic actions of my comrades 
 may not be effaced by time, nor their wondrous deeds deprived 
 
 of renown. 
 
 O 
 
 The modest work is submitted with the fond hope that it 
 may revive proud recollections in the hearts of all true Ameri- 
 . cans, and inspire them with patriotism and greater love of 
 country, for which its braves sacrificed so much. 
 
 What the author has done (in the pages which follow) in 
 :J chronicling and perpetuating the brilliant history of New Jer- 
 seymen he much fears will be but an epitome of what might be 
 Li recorded, but such as it is he dedicates it to the 
 
 PATRIOTIC PEOPLE OF AMERICA. 
 
 J. MADISON DRAKE. 
 Elizabeth, N. J., 1908.
 
 Historical Sketches of the Revolutionary 
 and Civil Wars. 
 
 PART I. THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 
 
 NEW JERSEY'S CONTINENTALS. 
 
 THE first call made on New Jersey for troops in the Revolu- 
 tionary War was by a resolution adopted by Congress 
 October 9, 1775, and under its provisions two regiments 
 of eight companies each were promptly raised. The men, enlisted 
 for one year, were to receive five dollars per month, and, in lieu 
 of a bounty, a felt hat, pair of stockings, and a pair of shoes. 
 They were compelled to provide their own arms and accoutre- 
 ments. A few days later Congress showed its further generosity 
 to the men who were to expose their lives and do the real work 
 by granting each man a hunting shirt, not exceeding in value 
 $1.33, and a blanket, providing these articles could be procured, 
 This was to be regarded as a gift, not as a part of the enlistment 
 contract. 
 
 On the 26th of October, Samuel Tucker, president of the 
 Provincial Congress of New Jersey, issued a call for able-bodied 
 men to fill the quota, and appointed Elias Dayton, of Elizabeth- 
 town, chairman of a commission, to muster the men. 
 
 The first regiment raised in New Jersey had as its first 
 colonel William Alexander (Lord Stirling), of Somerset County. 
 William De Hart (major), Matthias Ogden (lieutenant-colonel), 
 Matthias Halsted (quartermaster), and Aaron Ogden (paymas- 
 ter). 
 
 The Second Regiment, with William Maxwell as colonel, 
 was raised in the middle of the state. 
 
 On the tenth of January, 1776, Congress called for another 
 regiment from New Jersey, on the same terms offered the other 
 two. None, however, were to be enlisted but healthy, sound and 
 able-bodied freemen over sixteen years of age. The call further
 
 O HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 specified that no apprentice should be enlisted without the consent 
 of his master or mistress, and every person under the age of 
 twenty-one years, enlisting as aforesaid, may within twenty-four 
 hours after their parent or guardian shall have notice of their en- 
 listment obtain his discharge by refunding the money received 
 from the recruiting officer, and returning such necessaries as may 
 have been supplied him by the officer or the value thereof in money. 
 
 Elias Dayton was appointed colonel of the Third Regiment. 
 Francis Barber, major; Jonathan Dayton, paymaster, and Rev. 
 James Caldwell, chaplain. 
 
 As soon as organized, four companies were sent over to 
 Staten Island; the other four to Amboy. On the 28th of April 
 the Third Regiment reassembled here, and was reviewed on the 
 public ground in front of the First Presbyterian Church grave- 
 yard (a valuable property since presented to the church corpora- 
 tion by a corrupt city council). On the third of May the First 
 and Third Regiments embarked on sloops, and sailed for Albany, 
 thus commencing a term of active service, in which they won, dur- 
 ing eight years of war, imperishable renown. While in the north, 
 companies of the two regiments were stationed at Johnstown. 
 German Flats, Fort Dayton (thus named in honor of Colonel 
 Dayton), Fort Schuyler, Ticonderoga and Mount Independence, 
 to prevent incursions of the Indians. The two commands did 
 hard duty in that section until March, 1777, when they returned 
 to Morristown in this state, and were mustered out of service, 
 their term of enlistment having expired. 
 
 Congress, in September. 1776, called for four regiments, 
 offering a bounty of twenty dollars to every man who would 
 enlist to serve during the war, unless sooner discharged. Under 
 this call Congress made grants of land to all officers and men who 
 should serve during the entire war. A colonel was to have 500 
 acres; a lieutenant-colonel, 450; a major, 400: a captain, 300; a 
 lieutenant, 200; an ensign, 150, and each enlisted man 100 acres 
 of land. 
 
 The four regiments thus called for were promptly forthcom- 
 ing. They constituted what was for seven years known far and 
 wide as the "J erse y Brigade." It participated in every important 
 battle of the war, besides taking part in Sullivan's expedition to 
 Wyoming Valley, Pa., to punish the Indians for their outrages in 
 that section.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 
 
 HOW MINUTE-MEN WERE ORGANIZED. 
 
 Provincial Congress of New Jersey, on the fifth of 
 August, 1775, ordered the various counties to raise and 
 equip fifty-four companies of minute-men, of sixty-four 
 men each, making a total of 3,456, from which ten battalions were 
 formed. Elizabethtown, then really Essex County, furnished one 
 regiment, known as the First, to which Lord Stirling, of Bask- 
 ingridge, was assigned as colonel. Bergen, Middlesex, Mon- 
 mouth, Somerset, Morris, Sussex, Hunterdon and Burlington 
 counties each furnished a battalion, Gloucester and Salem coun- 
 ties another. Cumberland and Cape May counties organized 
 independent companies of infantry and horsemen. 
 
 New Jersey, being a frontier state, with the British occupy- 
 ing Staten Island and New York City, was subjected to all the 
 dangers and miseries of border warfare, and her losses in pro- 
 portion to her wealth and population were probably greater than 
 those of any other State, with, perhaps, the exception of South 
 Carolina. 
 
 When a powerful British fleet and army appeared off Staten 
 Island, July 1, 1776, the disaffected in New York and New Jersey 
 greatly rejoiced and united as far as they could in annoying the 
 patriots and their provincial governments. Cortlandt Skinner 
 who had been attorney-general of New Jersey, with every mem- 
 ber of his family, pronounced their allegiance to the British king 
 and removed to Staten Island, whither he called all Jerseymen' 
 who acknowledged their loyalty to the enemy. Skinner was 
 quickly appointed a brigadier-general, and ordered to raise 2,500 
 Jerseymen, which he thought he would have no difficulty in 
 doing, but he succeeded in getting only 500, many of whom were 
 low characters, but fit for the cowardly work he set them at. 
 
 In the summer of 1776 the tories of Monmouth, Hunterdon. 
 Bergen and Sussex counties became so active in their opposition 
 to the measures of Congress that minute-men were sent to arrest 
 the leaders. Things took such a turn in Hunterdon that the 
 tories committed acts of violence, going so far as to plunder the 
 house of Captain Jones, who, in resisting, was beaten and 
 wounded. 
 
 Congress then ordered the militia to march to the disaffected 
 localities and disarm all who were ascertained to be sympathizers 
 or supporters of the British king. 
 
 An act of cruelty that enraged New Jerseymen was the
 
 8 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 arrest and confinement of Richard Stockton, a member of Con- 
 gress, whose home was at Princeton. When the British army, 
 in pursuit of Washington, reached that town, they made search 
 for Mr. Stockton, who had a few days before taken his family 
 down into Monmouth County to save them from danger. A 
 British force, dispatched in search of him, dragged him out of 
 bed at night, and in his night dress carried him to Amboy, where 
 he was put in a dungeon. The ill-treatment he received during 
 his long imprisonment at Amboy and New York laid the founda- 
 tion for a disease that terminated his existence in 1781. 
 
 On the 17th of July, 1776, the patriots of New Jersey, that 
 the world might know where they stood in the times that tried 
 men's souls, caused the provincial congress to pass the following: 
 
 "Whereas, The honorable, the Continental Congress, have 
 declared the United Colonies free and independent states, we, the 
 deputies of New Jersey, in provincial congress assembled, do 
 resolve and declare, that we will support the freedom and inde- 
 pendence of the said states, with our lives and fortunes, and with 
 the whole force of New Jersey." 
 
 This proclamation sounded the death knell of toryism in 
 New Jersey during the war for American freedom. 
 
 NEW JERSEYMEN HAD MARTIAL SPIRIT. 
 
 IN no section of this beautiful land have people more firmly 
 adhered to patriotic principles than in New Jersey. The 
 
 pure and upright men who came here from New England 
 in 1664 were intense lovers of civil and religious liberty, and 
 willing to make any sacrifice to enjoy it. Fathers who had fled 
 from the oppression of the British government, after coming to 
 this virgin soil, told the story of the indignities and wrongs they 
 had suffered, and the truths sinking deep into the hearts of their 
 children, caused them to hate despotism. The men who settled 
 Elizabethtown, and consequently New Jersey, had no love for the 
 British throne nor for the pomp and circumstance of corrupt and 
 gilded courts. They were jealous of natural and covenanted 
 rights, and ever firmly resisted attempts to part with them. 
 
 The people of Elizabethtown were first to follow Massa- 
 chusetts in opposing the provisions of the stamp act, passed by 
 the British government in March, 1765, and in February, 1766. 
 erected a gallows on Broad street, vowing they would hang with-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 9 
 
 out judge or jury any person who purchased or used stamped 
 paper. This proclamation had the desired effect. It was because 
 of this action on the part of our people that the 26th regiment 
 of British regulars was sent here. Meantime our people sol- 
 emnly vowed they would not purchase or use any English-made 
 goods. In May, 1770, the 29th British regiment, which had 
 taken part in the Boston massacre the previous March, relieved 
 the 26th regiment. This act of the British authorities maddened 
 our people. It added fuel to the fire. 
 
 Nowhere in this country previous to and during the Ameri- 
 can revolution was greater patriotism displayed than was 
 exhibited by the people of Elizabethtown, and no community made 
 greater sacrifices for the cause of liberty and human privileges. 
 
 Elizabethtown, previous to the war and during its continu- 
 ance, was the headquarters of the patriots of the state. It was 
 here that expressions of sympathy were first heard for the Bos- 
 tonians, whose port had been closed by the British in retaliation 
 for the "Tea party." 
 
 It was here that this sympathy took practical shape in the 
 forwarding of money generously supplied by our people for such 
 inhabitants of Boston as had been reduced to extremity and 
 want by this action of the British government. 
 
 It was here, before the shot fired at Lexington, that the 
 people refused to have commercial intercourse with those whc 
 upheld the tyranny of the British government, notably breaking 
 off all intercourse with the inhabitants of Staten Island, who were 
 inflexibly opposed to the cause of American freedom. 
 
 It was at a critical moment that our people supplied the army 
 with powder after the battle of Bunker Hill, in which all the 
 Americans had was expended. In less than one month after 
 the battle Elizabethans forwarded nearly seven tons of powder 
 to the army encamped around Boston, and it was in the old mill 
 on South Broad street, that the first powder was manufactured 
 in this state. 
 
 The martial spirit of the people of Elizabethtown was fully 
 shown in October, 1775, when sixteen companies of infantry and 
 one company of horsemen were formed for active service. When 
 these minute-men first appeared on Broad street, on the parade- 
 ground in front of the First Presbyterian Church grounds, people 
 from near and far came to witness the pageant. 
 
 It was here that the first recruiting station in the state was 
 organized, and in November, 1775, Lord Stirling, who lived at 
 Baskingridge, came down and organized the First Regiment.
 
 10 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Previous to this the Earl had been colonel of a militia regiment 
 in Somerset county. 
 
 June 29, 1776, General Livingston sent three companies of 
 Elizabethtown boys to New York to assist in the defense of that 
 city, Washington having urgently requested this. These were 
 the first troops to leave the state. 
 
 Late in 1775, Staten Islanders who had remained loyal to 
 the British crown, finding themselves ostracized by all patriots 
 and unable to dispose of their products, became penitent, dis- 
 avowed fealty to the king, and sued for recognition by patriots* 
 but when the British army, under Lord Howe, landed on the 
 island July 2, 1776, they quickly renounced their -professions of 
 allegiance to the cause of American liberty, and joyfully gave 
 the glad hand to the invaders of their soil, and did not withdraw 
 it until compelled so to do at the end of the conflict. Staten 
 Island, for seven years, was a nest of traitors, and patriots here- 
 abouts suffered all that malignity could invent from their maraud- 
 ing expeditions. When Staten Islanders crossed to this side of 
 the sound they carried knife and torch. 
 
 The day following the disembarkation of the British on the 
 eastern shore of the island, red-coated soldiers paraded on the 
 western slope in plain view of the people of Elizabethtown, and 
 this so enraged two young men that they crossed the sound in 
 a canoe, and making their way over the salt meadows, fired a 
 number of shots at the insolent foe. The British soldiers, sur- 
 prised at the audacity of the two patriots in thus boldiy bearding 
 them, made attempts to effect their capture, but failed. 
 
 July 6 most Elizabethans hurriedly fled to the mountains, a 
 rumor prevailing that the British on the island intended invading 
 the town. The alarm proved false, and the fugitives soon after 
 returned to their homes. 
 
 August 26th, Captain Daniel Neill opened with his artillery 
 on a British camp on the island, the enemy replying, but doing 
 no damage. 
 
 In the latter part of August, owing to the absence of the 
 New Jersey troops from this state, the. First Regiment of Penn- 
 sylvania (mostly from Philadelphia) arrived at Elizabethtown 
 to guard it from incursions by Staten Island tories. The Penn- 
 sylvanians, however, did more harm than good, and people were 
 heartily glad when most of them deserted to return home. 
 Washington, pained by their conduct, and the gloom they cast 
 among the people, made a touching appeal to their patriotism 
 beseeching them to remain faithful to their obligations, as the
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 11 
 
 fate of the country, perhaps, depended on the exertion the army 
 might make during the next few weeks. The address failed to 
 have the effect desired, as the desertions continued. General 
 Livingston, in command here at the time, indignant at the con- 
 duct of the Pennsylvanians, in a public letter, regretted associa- 
 tion with them, classifying the regiment as "a discipline-hating; 
 goodliving-loving, 'to eternal fam'd damn'd,' coxcombical crew." 
 
 August 31, 1776, General Livingston was elected the first 
 governor of New Jersey, holding the position fourteen years 
 until his death, a longer term than was enjoyed by any other 
 executive. 
 
 September 24, Elizabethtowners were considerably exer- 
 cised over the unexpected arrival here of 420 American soldiers, 
 survivors of the ill-fated expedition of General Benedict Arnold 
 to Canada, who had been liberated on parole. Many of the men- 
 were sick. All were wrecks. They had suffered from frost-bite, 
 starvation and cruel imprisonment. As they could not be properly 
 cared for here they were conveyed in wagons to Millstone, 
 Somerset County. 
 
 November 21, citizens of Newark and Elizabethtown fled to 
 the mountains for refuge, owing to a threatened advance of the 
 British army. This was one of the darkest periods of the war. 
 
 November 28, Washington, with the wreck of the army, 
 barely 3,500 in all, retreated from Newark, where he had been 
 nearly a week, Lord Cornwallis, with a powerful and confident 
 force, closely following. Cornwallis reached Elizabethtown four 
 days afterwards, and remained several days. He kept his men' 
 busy foraging for supplies, and rejoiced at the discovery of sev- 
 eral tons of leaden bullets, which the people had moulded for the- 
 army. 
 
 Private property in and about Elizabethtown suffered greatly 
 during the war, Governor Livingston's home on Morris avenue 
 (now the residence of Senator Kean) being an especially inter- 
 esting object to marauders of both sides. The building was pil- 
 laged repeatedly, and the marvel is that it was left standing, sc 
 implacable was the hatred of the enemy for the most popular 
 governor New Jersey ever had. 
 
 During the year 1778, owing to the occupation of the towrr 
 by a considerable force of American troops, kept here for it? 
 protection, the people were enabled to dwell in comparative safety 
 at home. In fact this was the only year during the war in 
 which they had any enjoyment of life. 
 
 Governor Livingston's family resided here but little during-
 
 12 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 the entire eight years, finding a refuge at Baskingridge and 
 Parcipany. The governor himself, upon whose head the British 
 .government had set a price of several thousand pounds, remained 
 here as much as possible, but was often compelled to mount his 
 horse and hie away to the mountains above Springfield to escape 
 capture, if not death. Shortly after the futile raid of Colonel 
 Sterling with two British regiments, February 24, 1777, to effect 
 his capture, Governor Livingston informed Sir Henry Clinton 
 by letter that he was "possessed of the most authentic proofs" 
 that one of his (Clinton's) general officers (Cortlandt Skinner) 
 had "offered 2,000 guineas and a pension for life to an inhabitant 
 of this town" to assassinate him (the governor) in case he could 
 not be captured alive. 
 
 The chivalrous Briton replied so curtly and impertinently 
 that the governor returned a withering rejoinder, which he was 
 well qualified to do, for he was master of the English language. 
 
 To further show how desolate the soldiers made the gover- 
 nor's home, I quote the following letter written by one of his 
 daughters : 
 
 "Kate has been at Elizabethtown ; found our house in a 
 ruined condition. Gen. Dickinson had stationed a captain with 
 his artillery company in it, and after that it was kept for a bul- 
 lock's guard. Kate waited on the general, and he ordered the 
 troops removed the next day, but then the mischief was done; 
 everything is carried off that mamma had collected for her accom- 
 modation, so that it is impossible for her to go down to have the 
 grapes and other things secured; the very hinges, locks, and 
 panes of glass are taken away." 
 
 CAPTURE OF FIRST ENGLISH SHIP. 
 
 IN the early days of the revolutionary war Elizabethtown was 
 governed by a committee, composed of its best and ablest 
 
 men. Its public actions were reported direct to congress, 
 then, as now, the law-making power of the land. 
 
 William Alexander (titular) Earl of Stirling, a firm patriot, 
 residing at Baskingridge, Somerset County, organized the First 
 Regiment, New Jersey Volunteers, for the Continental Army, 
 shortly after the battle of Lexington, April 19, 1775, and in the 
 latter part of that year a battalion was sent to guard this town. 
 
 Monday night, January 22, 1776, Col. Stirling, with some 
 forty men of his regiment, all that were in this vicinity, the rest
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 1 
 
 being with the army on Long Island, left here in wagons for 
 Amboy, with the avowed intention of procuring a vessel at that 
 place, in which he had decided to attack and capture a British 
 transport, said to be lying in Prince's Bay. 
 
 Shortly after Lord Stirling's departure for Amboy, the town 
 committee learned that a British gunboat had suddenly left 
 New York to go to Sandy Hook and convoy the transport to 
 the city. 
 
 Fearing that Colonel Stirling might be overtaken by the 
 British war vessel, sent out to defend the transport, he having 
 no cognizance of this move on the part of the enemy, the town 
 committee despatched a courier to warn him of the threatened 
 danger. The committee were to send him reinforcements in boats 
 by way of the narrows. 
 
 The committee then hastily summoned Colonel Elias Dayton, 
 commanding the Third Regiment (Elizabethtowners), and a. 
 number of his officers, and ordered them to assemble as quickly 
 as possible such of their men as would volunteer for dangerous 
 duty. With that characteristic which has ever distinguished 
 patriotic citizens of Elizabeth, more volunteers came forward 
 and expressed a desire to perform the duty required of them than 
 could be accepted. 
 
 When the men had assembled Colonel Dayton made an 
 address, picturing the dangers that might possibly surround 
 Colonel Stirling, who was absent on a perilous mission, and 
 called upon those who wished to go to his assistance, to at once 
 provide themselves with arms, ammunition, blankets and rations, 
 and report to him at midnight at the wharf at the foot of Eliza- 
 beth avenue. 
 
 Meantime the town committee, fully realizing the importance 
 of the brief time at its disposal, hastened to the water front and 
 selected three of the largest and best shallops, which their 
 owners cheerfully prepared for the expedition. 
 
 Promptly at midnight, the tiny craft, laden with more than 
 one hundred Elizabethtown boys, under a favoring but icy 
 wind from the northwest, sailed in a southerly direction down 
 the sound. It had been Colonel Dayton's intention to go by 
 way of the narrows, in order to intercept the British war vessel 
 sent out in the afternoon, but owing to a strong adverse tide 
 and floating ice, reported in New York Bay, the vessels pro- 
 ceeded as above stated. 
 
 The trip down the sound was far from being a voyage of 
 pleasure, owing to the severity of the weather and the chilling
 
 .14 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 wind, but the patriots, thinking only of the object in view, mur- 
 mured not at their exposure to the wintry blasts. Wrapped in 
 -blankets, and huddled together in the open boats, these brave 
 spirits made themselves as comfortable as circumstances would 
 .allow. It was not the first or last time they suffered for the 
 noble cause they so cheerfully espoused. 
 
 Colonel Dayton's little fleet speedily reached Amboy, and 
 he at once communicated with Lord Stirling, who had just 
 iound a craft for the purpose he had in view. The armada, 
 under the joint command of Lord Stirling and Colonel Dayton, 
 were well out in the bay before "Old Sol" gilded the eastern 
 horizon, and although a keen lookout was kept for the British 
 transport reported to be in that vicinity, its whereabouts could 
 not be discovered. 
 
 Shortly after the rising sun had dispelled the heavy hanging 
 mist, the soldier-sailors were made happy on descrying, far 
 out on the blue waters, the towering masts of a large vessel, with 
 all sail set, and in rapid motion, headed for New York. 
 
 Intense excitement prevailed on the four vessels composing 
 the Elizabethtown navy, and every man carefully examined the 
 priming of his weapon and nerved himself for the expected con- 
 test. The vessels separated to produce the impression that they 
 were fishing smacks, and this innocent manouver completely de- 
 ceived the commander of the incoming ship. He paid no heed 
 to the shallops, and kept on his course, but he was the most sur- 
 prised man in the world when he discovered his vessel sur- 
 rounded by the American boats, filled with armed men. Before 
 he could offer resistance, had he been so disposed, the Elizabeth- 
 town craft were run alongside and fastened with grapnel hooks, 
 and while men detailed for the purpose quickly climbed on 
 board, others kept their muskets trained upon the surprised 
 British crew, which surrendered, not a shot having been fired 
 by either party. 
 
 The captors gave vent to their joy by repeated cheers, and 
 treated the crew so well that it set to work and prepared a steam- 
 ing breakfast for the conquerors. The ship, which proved to 
 be the Blue Mountain Valley, was taken into Amboy, where 
 it became an object of great interest. Owing to strong head 
 winds it was found impossible to get the ship to this town, so 
 it remained at Amboy till Friday, when it reached here safely 
 and to the great satisfaction of the town committee and our 
 people. 
 
 The Blue Mountain Valley was bark-rigged and over 100 feet
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 15 
 
 in length. Its cargo consisted of 107 chaldrons of coal, 30 
 bundles of hoops, 100 butts of porter, 225 bags of beans, 150 
 sacks of potatoes, mostly decayed, 10 casks of sauerkraut, 7 live 
 hogs out of 80 consigned. 
 
 Lord Stirling having reported the capture of the ship to 
 congress, that body testified its appreciation by adopting the 
 following : 
 
 "Resolved, That the alertness, activity and good conduct 
 and spirit of Lord Stirling, and the forwardness and spirit 
 of the gentlemen and others from Elizabethtown, who 
 voluntarily aided him in taking the ship Blue Mountain Valley 
 were laudable and exemplary; and that his lordship be directed 
 to secure the capture until the further orders of congress ; and 
 that in the meantime he cause such part of the lading as would 
 otherwise perish, to be disposed of by sale." 
 
 THE FIRST CANNON SHOT. 
 
 IT has never been generally known that the first cannon shot 
 at the enemy, after the adoption of the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence by Congress at Philadelphia, on the evening of 
 July 4, 1776, was fired in Elizabethtown, so I will narrate the 
 exciting episode. Up to February, 1776, this State, or province 
 as it then was, had no artillery organization, and the importance 
 of that arm of the service being acutely felt, the provincial con- 
 gress, in session at Burlington, on the 13th of that month, 
 adopted the following resolution: 
 
 "Resolved, That two complete artillery companies be raised 
 in this colony." 
 
 The ordinance provided that the term of enlistment should 
 be for one year, and that one company should be stationed in 
 the eastern part of the province, the other in the western. Each 
 company was to consist of a captain, one captain-lieutenant, two 
 second lieutenants, four sergeants, four corporals, and one hun- 
 dred and fifty matrosses. (The last term was at that time used 
 to denote gunners' mates, or soldiers in a train of artillery who 
 assisted in loading, firing and sponging the guns.) 
 
 The day following the passage of the ordinance the first or 
 eastern company was organized in Newark by the election of 
 the following officers: 
 
 Captain Frederick Frelinghuysen. 
 Captain-Lieutenant Daniel Neill.
 
 16 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Second Lieutenants Thomas Clark, James Heard. 
 
 Captain Frelinghuysen served but one month and resigned 
 Lieutenant Neill succeeding him. 
 
 Shepard Kollock, born in Delaware in 1750, after learning 
 the "art preservative of all arts," in Philadelphia, located in 
 Elizabethtown after the war had commenced, and joined Cap- 
 tain Neill's battery. He was with it when it attacked and 
 destroyed a British gunboat, and by his distinguished gallantry 
 on that occasion was promoted to the first lieutenancy. At the 
 close of the campaign in 1778, General Knox, commanding the 
 American artillery, advised Lieutenant Kollock to establish a 
 newspaper in Elizabethtown, as he would thereby be able to 
 render great service to the patriot cause. Lieutenant Kollock 
 liked a soldier's life, and did not want to leave the army, but 
 General Knox finally prevailed upon him to engage in the 
 newspaper enterprise, so he resigned, and securing a rude outfit 
 located in Chatham, a much safer place than Elizabethtown 
 was at that period, and for some years afterwards. Lieutenant 
 Kollock continued the publication of the New Jersey Journal 
 and Political Intelligencer at Chatham until peace was declared, 
 when he removed his plant to Elizabethtown, where it has since 
 remained. 
 
 Captain Neill, by untiring energy and devotion to duty, 
 quickly got his command in good trim for the active service 
 itrfwas soon to engage in. In the latter part of June Captain 
 Neill, who had been stationed in Newark, being ordered to 
 Elizabethtown, took possession of the earthworks at what is 
 now the foot of Elizabeth avenue, where he made a comfortable 
 camp. To relieve his men from ennui when not engaged in 
 drilling, Captain Neill caused them to throw up more dirt, thus 
 adding to the strength of the redoubt. He planted his four 
 guns so they would command the sound, narrow at that point, 
 as well as the entrance to the Elizabeth river, then known as 
 "Mill Creek." 
 
 William Livingston, a resident of the town, who resigned 
 his seat in the Provincial Congress at Burlington, to be made 
 commander-in-chief of the New Jersey militia, overjoyed at the 
 presence of Captain Neill's battery, on the morning of July 
 4, 1776, wrote General Washington: 
 
 "* * * We now have two field pieces, 18-pounders, with 
 a part of Captain Neill's company of artillery in this province." 
 
 Shortly after the mounted courier had set out with the dis- 
 patch for Washington's headquarters in New York, American
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 17 
 
 piquets posted on the ground now occupied by the buildings 
 of the Singer company, were surprised to see a large British 
 gunboat lying off the southern end of Shooter's Island. They 
 at once sent word to General Livingston, and early in the evening 
 he mounted his horse, ever saddled, and rode to the lower part of 
 the town, where he had a conference with Captain Neill, who 
 had already taken steps to repel an attack, in case the vessel 
 meditated mischief. 
 
 The sudden appearance of the gunboat was a great surprise 
 to our soldiers, as no British vessel had been in our waters since 
 Washington occupied New York City and Long Island. The 
 gunboat was a part of Admiral Lord Howe's fleet, just arrived 
 from England, and that day anchored off Clifton, Staten Island. 
 
 Along towards the middle of the night the gunboat was 
 seen coming slowly through the Achter Koll. In the soft 
 moonlight the craft was plainly distinguishable to our Argus- 
 eyed soldiers keeping watch and ward along the shore. As any 
 effort they could make against the ship with their smooth-bore 
 muskets would be impotent, they maintained a painful silence, 
 feeling assured that when it reached the battery our guns would 
 give a good account of themselves. 
 
 The commander of the vessel, in blissful ignorance of the 
 possession of artillery by the Americans, sailed unconcernedly 
 and tranquilly over the placid water. Like most British officers 
 at that period of the war, he had profound contempt for Ameri- 
 can militiamen, whom he did not consider foemen worthy of his 
 steel. 
 
 Captain Neill, who had been on the qui vive for some time, 
 on learning of the vessel's approach, impatiently awaited a closer 
 proximity in order that his shots might be fully effective, and 
 his welcome to the stranger more hearty if less hospitable. His 
 guns, ready shotted, were admirably posted close to the water, 
 and matches already lighted by the fire-workers. 
 
 It was only when the vessel, but slowly making its way 
 through the silver-rippled water owing to the lightness of the 
 breeze, reached a point directly opposite the redoubt occupied 
 by Captain Neill, that his dogs of war were loosened, and from 
 their brazen throats belched forth sheets of bright red flame, 
 preceded by iron missiles which swept the deck of the boat, 
 carrying death, destruction and dismay to the hitherto confident 
 and unsuspecting crew. 
 
 The salvo, like a clap of thunder from a serene sky, whose 
 vibrations accumulated and rolled across the waters and along
 
 18 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Staten Island's beautiful hills, ruthlessly awaking sleeping thun- 
 ders of the woods, was followed by a rain of merciless iron, 
 utterly demoralizing the officers and crew, and creating scenes 
 of indescribable confusion and terror. A state of chaos ensued ; 
 discipline was thrown to the winds it was every man for him- 
 self. The distracted sailors, finding themselves in a trap, and 
 seeing no way of escape save by surrender, deserted the vessel 
 by jumping overboard. At least those did who had not been 
 killed or maimed by the well-directed fire of our artillerymen. 
 
 Those who thus sought safety by springing into the water, 
 endeavored to reach either shore ; most of them, however, struck 
 out for the Jersey side on account of its nearness. Some suc- 
 ceeded in gaining the Staten Island shore, but many failed to 
 reach either. 
 
 Meanwhile the craft, totally disabled, drifted with the out- 
 going tide, no attempt being made by any on board to work any 
 of the fourteen guns with which it was armed. 
 
 When Captain Neill, true-hearted soldier that he was, saw 
 the desperate helplessness of the British sailors, and their at- 
 tempts to save themselves, he ceased firing, and sent men to 
 rescue them from watery graves. The boat was carried by the 
 tide beyond the mouth of the Elizabeth river, and, being in 
 flames, went down to Davy Jones' capacious locker just after 
 passing the spot now occupied by the Baltimore and Ohio rail- 
 road bridge. 
 
 Some thirty years ago oystermen raked up a large number 
 of British coins and other articles from this spot, and many be- 
 lieved the treasure was at one time possessed by the sailors of 
 the ill-fated gunboat. 
 
 General Livingston, who had remained with Captain Neill 
 and witnessed the attack and destruction of the vessel, at once 
 wrote the following dispatch to General Washington, sending it 
 off poste-haste: 
 
 "E. Town, July 4, 1776 midnight. 
 
 "One of the enemy's sloops of war, mounting fourteen guns, 
 "having this evening run up to this Point, was attacked from 
 the shore by the 12-pounders, a great number of her men killed, 
 she set on fire, and entirely destroyed." 
 
 As Captain Neill's attack on the British gunboat occurred 
 at midnight July 4, 1776, there can be no shadow of doubt that 
 his guns were the first ones fired after the immortal Declaration 
 of Independence was adopted, the congress in session at Phila- 
 delphia, having formally performed this act between 9 and 10
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 19 
 
 o'clock that evening. It was the first exploit of the new-born 
 nation, and a gallant young patriot, a citizen of this province, 
 carried it to success. 
 
 Captain Neill and his battery was shortly after assigned to 
 Colonel Thomas Proctor's regiment of artillery, and subsequently 
 to the brigade of artillery commanded by General Knox, one 
 of the bravest and purest officers in the Continental Army. The 
 battery participated in the battles of Trenton, Assanpink Creek. 
 Princeton and Monmouth. At Princeton the heroic Neill sealed 
 his devotion to the cause of American liberty and independence 
 with his life's blood, being instantly killed by a British sharp- 
 shooter, just after the gallant General Hugh Mercer, a patriotic 
 Scotsman, was mortally wounded. 
 
 FIRST BATTLE OF SPRINGFIELD. 
 
 ^ I "'HE darkest and most unpromising period of the patriots in 
 the American revolution was the two closing months of 
 1776. The sad ending of the campaign on Long Island, 
 causing the expulsion of the American army from New York 
 City, sent a thrill of horror and distrust throughout the entire 
 country, and when Washington, in November, with the wreck 
 of his illy-clothed and poorly-provided force, not more than 3,500 
 strong, hastily retreated through New Jersey, closely followed 
 by a powerful army under Lord Cornwallis, it seemed as if all 
 hope for liberty and independence had fled. 
 
 The tories, although few in number, with brethren of the 
 same ilk on Staten Island and in New York, loudly predicted 
 that the authority of King George would soon be re-established 
 and vauntingly declared the Declaration of Independence to be 
 an idle boast. While the tories -reveled in these delights, the 
 most enthusiastic patriots were dispirited by recent events. Since 
 the landing of the British army on Staten Island, July 2, the 
 patriots of New Jersey had been in a constant state of alarm. 
 Members of families had become estranged and intercourse was 
 far from cordial. Nobody knew whom to trust, so uncertain 
 was the doleful state of affairs. 
 
 The superbly appointed army of Cornwallis quickly spread 
 itself over eastern New Jersey, occupying the most important 
 points. As he continued in pursuit of Washington, Cornwallis 
 left detachments in Newark, Elizabethtown, Spanktown (Rah- 
 way), Woodbridge and New Brunswick. 
 
 Colonel Jacob Ford, Jr., of Morris county, had managed
 
 20 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 to assemble several hundred militiamen and took position among 
 them beyond the Short Hills, toward Chatham, while Major 
 Oliver Spencer, of Elizabethtown, with some two hundred 
 boys, marched to Springfield to guard that section from 
 an expected raid of the British from Newark. It was just be- 
 fore this that Colonel Ford adopted novel means of apprising 
 people in his section of threatened danger. He had been for- 
 tunate in securing an old 18-pound iron gun, which he planted 
 on a commanding eminence at Springfield, placing as its com- 
 panion a tar barrel at the top of a lofty hickory pole nearby. 
 This was to be set on fire when the cannon sounded an alarm. 
 If by day, an immense volume of black smoke would ascend; if 
 by night, the bright blaze could be seen for many miles. These 
 were to be regarded as signals of imminent danger to the people 
 of the surrounding country as well as an order to the minutemen 
 to hasten to the appointed rendezvous for service. 
 
 Very little has been recorded in history of the first battle 
 of Springfield, which took place late in the afternoon of Decem- 
 ber 17, 1776, four years previous to the more important and bril- 
 liant engagement, in which Major Oliver Spencer, one of the best 
 soldiers in the Continental army, won renown and a colonel's 
 commission by distinguished gallantry. 
 
 General Leslie, commanding a British brigade of more than 
 2,000 men, had been left in Elizabethtown by Cornwallis, with 
 instructions to make incursions into the interior to annoy the 
 people and secure cattle and forage. 
 
 It was early on the morning of December 17 that Leslie left 
 Elizabethtown for Plainfield, but as the farmers had gathered 
 and attacked him at various points along che road, he halted 
 at Westfield, and finding but little to encourage a further advance 
 in a westerly direction, started at noon on his return, taking the 
 road leading east to Springfield, where he hoped to be more 
 successful in securing needed supplies. 
 
 Major Spencer's videttes, posted along this road near 
 Springfield, first to discover the British advance, sounded an 
 alarm, upon which the signal-gun was discharged for the first 
 time and the tar barrel set ablaze. Major Spencer, surprised at 
 the approach of the enemy from the direction of Westfield, 
 instantly dispatched Nathaniel Crane, of Captain Marsh's light 
 horse as an express rider to notify Colonel Ford at Chatham, that 
 the enemy, in strong force, was advancing on Springfield. It 
 is said that young Crane, a thorough horseman, made the four 
 miles in less than nineteen minutes.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 21 
 
 Notwithstanding the great speed at which he rode over the 
 hills, his ride was a task of supererogation, as when he reached 
 Colonel Ford's trusty minutemen, he found the command already 
 in line and ready to march to the defense of Springfield the 
 reverberations of the old cannon below having given notification 
 of threatened danger. 
 
 Meantime, Major Spencer, with his meagre force, had 
 fiercely resisted the advance of the British, contesting every foot 
 of the ground, never giving way until his flanks were seriously 
 threatened. Upon reaching the main road running north (now 
 Morris avenue), Major Spencer slowly retreated toward Chat- 
 ham, confident of soon meeting the reinforcements he had sent 
 for. 
 
 His brave heart leaped with joy when he saw Colonel Ford 
 and a thousand minute-men hastening toward him. The two 
 commanders had a conference at Briant's tavern, and promptly 
 made dispositions to attack the enemy, which, they learned, had 
 occupied Springfield. 
 
 To Major Spencer and his Elizabethtown boys, was assigned 
 the post of honor (in battle, always the place of danger). They 
 were to advance and attack the centre, where the main body 
 of the enemy was naturally posted. The British line extended 
 from a point west of the village in an easterly direction to the 
 Vauxhall road near Millburn. 
 
 Captain Job Bloomfield, of the Morris county battalion, 
 crossed over to Vauxhall road, and made a determined attack on 
 the enemy's right, while Captain Sylvanus Seeley, of the same 
 battalion, commanded the detachment detailed to make an attack 
 on the enemy's left, resting along the Westfield road. Colonel 
 Ford, with the remainder of his battalion, advanced on the left 
 of the Morristown road, keeping within supporting distance of 
 Major Spencer, while Captain (afterward Lieutenant- Colonel) 
 Elezor Lindsley, of the Elizabethtown battalion, marched on a 
 parallel line on the right of the road. 
 
 The sun, low on the southwestern horizon, was casting 
 lengthening shadows, when Major Spencer's little force, which 
 had advanced cautiously through the dense underbrush, got 
 within effective shooting distance, and opened a galling fire on 
 the British line, posted on the right bank of a considerable creek 
 running through the northerly end of the village. The fighting 
 continued along the entire line, a mile and more in extent, when 
 darkness put an end to the conflict. Neither side had. won, but 
 as the British had a strong position and were superior in num-
 
 22 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 bers, the little American band fell back about a mile to higher 
 ground, where it would have a more advantageous position in- 
 case the enemy advanced in that direction. 
 
 Here the Americans went into bivouac, starting bright fires 
 to keep from freezing. Sleep being impossible under the cir- 
 cumstances, the men talked over the events of the day, and all 
 through the long night kept muskets in hand, longing for an- 
 other day, that they might again assail the dastard foe. But 
 their expectations in this respect were doomed to disappointment, 
 as when the sun rose that intensely cold December morn, nothing 
 was to be seen or heard of the enemy, which had taken advan- 
 tage of the cover of darkness to retreat, carrying its dead and 
 wounded along in wagons. The British commander had no 
 idea, on starting out, that he would, before the sun went down, 
 meet with such a force of Americans, or that the wagons he- 
 took along to convey stolen goods would be required for any 
 other purpose. From the haste with which he left the battle- 
 field, it was evident he was as glad to retire from Springfield 
 as Sir Henry Clinton was that pretty day in June, four years 
 afterward. 
 
 General Leslie, during the night, retreated to Newark, enter- 
 ing that town during the forenoon. The Americans were greatly 
 encouraged with the result of the engagement, claiming a victory, 
 as it undoubtedly was, the enemy having abandoned the field. 
 At all events, it was the first time that the British soldier turned 
 his back and fled from "insignificant rebels," as American patriots 
 were denominated. The battle, small as such an affair may be 
 considered in these days of warfare, gave the Jersey Blues con- 
 fidence, and taught them the British soldier was not invincible. 
 
 Tradition has it that the farmer boys of Morris county, who 
 fought so heroically, vied with the Elizabethtowners in deeds 
 of daring, and that the chivalrous Spencer, mounted upon a 
 spirited horse, performed prodigies in dashing along the line, 
 thus inspiring his men with his indomitable courage. Major 
 Spencer's intrepidity attracted the attention of the enemy, whose 
 sharpshooters, failing to "bring him down," as they had been 
 commanded, riddled his uniform with bullets. At one time, 
 while dashing across an open space, and quite close to the British, 
 he opened fire with two pistols, his men sending up a cheer that 
 awoke the grand old hills in their rear. One might think such 
 an act would awaken a feeling of admiration among the British, 
 but they failed to appreciate the heroism of the peerless horse- 
 man, and gave vent to their feelings by pouring a volley at
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 23 
 
 point-blank range at the gallant major, whose noble charger fell 
 dead, under the terrific fire. The major, who had received 
 a wound, being unable to extricate himself from underneath the 
 dead animal, was rescued from his perilous position by his men,, 
 despite the great danger incurred in performing the heroic act. 
 and within the folds of his silken sash, which he always wore in. 
 battle, was borne unconscious to the rear. 
 
 Major Spencer, for his skill and bravery on this occasion,, 
 was immediately promoted to a colonelcy, an honor he richly 
 merited. He served faithfully throughout the entire war, being 
 mustered out of the army after peace had been proclaimed in 
 1783. 
 
 Sad to relate, Colonel Ford, who willingly divided the hon- 
 ors of the day with his compatriot, Major Spencer, died at Mor- 
 ristown on the llth of January, 1777, less than a month after 
 the battle. Owing to the great exposure and the responsibility 
 resting upon him, he was attacked with pleuro-pneumonia, and 
 died after a brief illness. He was 40 years old. His father,. 
 Colonel Jacob Ford, Sr., died at Morristown upon hearing the 
 news of the victory won by his gallant son and Major Spencer. 
 Colonel Ford was accorded a military funeral by order of Gen,- 
 eral Washington, Major Spencer commanding the escort. 
 
 HEROISM OF MARYLAND TROOPS. 
 
 MY main object in this chapter is to imbue the minds of 
 youths with patriotism; to show of what kind of stuff 
 the boys were composed in the days of the American 
 revolution, and to describe fierce contests in which many of 
 them engaged one hot day in August, 1777, while laboring to 
 establish our blessed government. 
 
 For seven long and trying years, from July 4, 1776, when 
 Captain Daniel Neill, with his artillery, destroyed a British sloop 
 of war at the foot of Elizabeth Avenue, to March 31, 1783, when 
 the last act in the bloody revolutionary drama was performed by 
 Major William Crane of "Spencer's Regiment," resulting in the 
 capture of two British sloops of war, lying within pistol shot 
 of each other off the Battery in New York, the people of Eliza- 
 bethtown suffered untold horrors from forays by the enemy, 
 which took delight in rapine, murder and arson. 
 
 It was in consequence of the numerous predatory excur-
 
 24 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 sions of the British and tories to the town and vicinity that 
 Colonel Matthias Ogden, a native, and one of its best defend- 
 ers all through the war, suggested to General John Sullivan, 
 his immediate commander, encamped at Hanover, Sussex 
 county, with a considerable force, the propriety of invading 
 Staten Island in Mifficient strength to make reprisals. Colonel 
 Ogden, an ardent patriot, always anxious for a fight, had no 
 difficulty in convincing General Sullivan that if the project was 
 promptly undertaken, success was reasonably assured. 
 
 General Sullivan, pleased to take Colonel Ogden's view of 
 the matter, at once arranged an expeditionary force to carry 
 out the object stated. Sullivan came to this state with a high 
 reputation as a fighter, and his men having the utmost confi- 
 dence in his ability, cheerfully engaged in the enterprise. 
 
 Everything being in readiness General Sullivan selected 
 1,000 picked men from the brigades of Generals Smallwood and 
 De Borre, and marched rapidly to Elizabethtown, reaching it at 
 10 o'clock on the evening of August 22, 1777. Colonel 
 Matthias Ogden, with his own First New Jersey Regiment, and 
 most of Colonel Dayton's Third New Jersey Regiment, and some 
 100 militiamen from Colonel Frelinghuysen's command, who 
 liad been ordered to join the expedition, had previously marched 
 to Elizabethtown Point, and south along the water front to a 
 point opposite "Fresh Kill" (now Green Ridge), Staten Island, 
 where the entire force embarked in boats and was rowed 
 across the sound, and up a creek to the high ground. Colonel 
 Ogden reached the main road running from Richmond to Tot- 
 tenville long before daybreak. 
 
 General Sullivan and his column were conveyed in boats 
 from the Point to Palmer's Run, between Castleton and North- 
 field, on the north shore. General Smallwood was to attack 
 Major Van Buskirk's battalion of Skinner's brigade, numbering 
 250 men, at Decker's Ferry (now Port Richmond), while General 
 De Borre was to assail Lieutenant-Colonel Barton, 250 men of 
 Skinner's brigade, encamped near New Blazing Star ferry (now 
 Linoleumville). 
 
 If Colonel Ogden, to whom had been deputed the chief duty, 
 succeeded in defeating the force he was first to meet, he' was 
 directed to follow it up by attacking Lieutenant-Colonel Edward 
 Vaughn Dongan's battalion on the Morning Star road, near 
 Northfield, and if again successful, to advance at once upon the 
 position held by Lieutenant-Colonel Allen on the Amboy road, 
 midway between shore and Graniteville.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 
 
 25 
 
 Colonel Ogden displayed the highest attributes of a soldier 
 in getting his command across the sound, and in gaining the 
 desired point without discovery by the enemy. He had sur- 
 rounded the British post long before daybreak, and only waited 
 the coming of Aurora's rays to carry his well-laid plans for its 
 capture into execution. When the eastern firmament began 
 to be illumined by the glorious orb of day, and golden beams 
 overspread the scene, Colonel Ogden's men charged impetuously 
 upon the silent camp, whose occupants were unaware of the 
 presence of the Americans until summoned to surrender. Lieu- 
 tenant-Colonel Lawrence, the commandant, and 83 men of Skin- 
 ner's brigade, promptly complied without firing a shot. They 
 were at once put under guard and escorted to the ferry, and 
 transported across the sound to this side, and before nightfall 
 safely confined in the court house building, destroyed by fire two 
 or three years later. 
 
 Having succeeded in carrying out General Sullivan's in- 
 structions, Colonel Ogden immediately took up a line of march 
 towards Morning Star Road, to attack Colonel Dongan's force, 
 which he found in a strong defensive position, and prepared to 
 make a stiff fight. The New Jersey boys, however, covered 
 by large trees, took careful aim, and wasted neither powder 
 nor ball, and within an hour had the enemy on the run, Colonel 
 Ogden leading them in a gallant charge. Colonel Dongan 
 displayed great bravery, and while urging his men to resist the 
 advance of the Americans, was shot through the body, dying on 
 the following day. Seeing his commander fall, Major Drum- 
 mond assumed command, and made repeated efforts to stop the 
 flight of his men, who only halted when they joined Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Allen's battalion on the Amboy Road. 
 
 The combined force made a stand, and fought desperately 
 for some time, but the Jersey brigade, smarting under outrages 
 these same men of Skinner's command had committed in New 
 Jersey, poured in deadly shots, and the enemy, no longer able 
 to withstand the withering fire, fled in disorder to Prince's 
 Bay, where they sought safety in the entrenchments lining the 
 shore at that point. 
 
 Colonel Ogden, had his orders allowed, could have bagged 
 the party there. He and his brave boys regretted the orders 
 were circumscribed. No alternative left, Colonel Ogden, hav- 
 ing accomplished his undertaking, retrograded to Old Blazing 
 Star (now Rossville), to await the anticipated arrival of General 
 Sullivan and his command. Hearing nothing from Sullivan,
 
 26 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 after a long wait, Colonel Ogden and his men embarked in 
 their boats and were speedily conveyed to the Jersey shore. 
 
 Soon after Colonel Ogden engaged the enemy at daybreak, 
 General De Borre's brigade attacked Colonel Barton's battalion 
 at the New Blazing Star (now Linoleumville), and after a brief 
 resistance, seeing the superiority of the American force, the 
 British broke from cover, and sought safety in flight. Many 
 of them were so panic-stricken that they seized boats lying at 
 the ferry and crossed to the Jersey side, while others, thoroughly 
 acquainted with the country, took refuge in the dense woods 
 near at hand. Colonel Barton and some forty of his men were 
 taken prisoners. The Americans in this fight captured a 
 British stand of colors, some blankets, arms and clothing. Gen- 
 eral De Borre's men burned several British vessels lying at 
 the ferry. 
 
 General Smallwood's column having come up, General 
 Sullivan moved towards Richmond, expecting to meet Colonel 
 Ogden's force, but hearing nothing from Ogden before reaching 
 that village, turned to the right and moved to Old Blazing 
 Star (now Rossville), where he was surprised to learn that Ogden 
 and his command had already crossed the sound. The latter 
 had waited for his superior longer than his orders warranted, and 
 fearing further delay to be unnecessarily hazardous, concluded 
 that safety alone was to be found on this side. 
 
 When General Sullivan reached the ferry and found neither 
 Ogden or his boats, he began to fear for the safety of his com- 
 mand. Without artillery, and ammunition almost exhausted, and 
 a large force of British regulars from Tompkinsville (then 
 a watering place), and what remained of Skinner's brigade, gath- 
 ering in his rear, and a wide and deep river (sound) intervening 
 in front, no boats or relief in sight, and night coming on, his 
 position seemed perilous in the extreme. He made an attempt 
 to get the boats from this side which Colonel Ogden had used, 
 but they were out of sight of his messengers. After some delay 
 three boats were discovered, and in these his men were conveyed 
 across the sound. It was a laborious task, and attended by mani- 
 fold dangers. 
 
 Shortly after the embarkation of the troops had commenced, 
 the British appeared in strong force, but were kept at a consid- 
 erable distance from Sullivan's main body at the water's edge, 
 by eighty Marylanders, commanded by Majors Stewart and Til- 
 lard, who maintained a well-directed fire from their rifles. It 
 was through the gallant efforts of the Marylanders that the
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 27" 
 
 enemy was held back until all of Sullivan's troops were safely 
 conveyed across the sound. So heroically did the brave South- 
 rons contest the advance of the British that the latter were re- 
 peatedly driven from points of vantage. The small force of 
 Marylanders, however, was at length compelled to retire from 
 the high ground and take positions near the water, until it 
 stood, like a lion at bay, within twenty rods of the water. 
 
 By this time the British brought up several pieces of 
 artillery, and opened with grape and canister upon the little but 
 determined band of heroes which had so long and tenaciously 
 held a perilous position while safeguarding the retirement of 
 the Americans. After the British cannon were brought into 
 action it was impossible to get the boatmen to return to the 
 Staten Island shore, and so no alternative was left the brave rear- 
 guard except to die or surrender. When the Marylanders had 
 expended their last cartridge, and with the last hope of cross- 
 ing the sound gone, they raised a white flag and about forty of 
 them became prisoners. Some sprang into the water and suc- 
 ceeded in swimming across the sound, but a number were 
 drowned in the excitement. 
 
 General Sullivan, in a letter to congress, gives the following 
 summary of his operations: 
 
 "In this expedition we landed on an island possessed by 
 the enemy ; put to rout six regiments ; killed, wounded and made 
 prisoners at least four or five hundred of the enemy ; vanquished 
 every party that collected against us ; destroyed there great quan- 
 tities of stores ; took one vessel and destroyed six ; took a con- 
 siderable number of arms, blankets, many cattle, horses, etc. ; 
 marched victorious through the island, and in the whole course 
 of the day lost not more than one hundred and fifty men, most 
 of whom were lost by the imprudence of themselves and officers. 
 Some few, indeed, were lost by cross-accidents, which no human 
 foresight could have prevented." 
 
 General Sullivan was sharply criticised for his failure to 
 have boats at the point he desired to recross the sound, whereby 
 the safety of his own column was imperiled, and as he was 
 blamed for his conduct at Brandywine, where he failed to carry 
 out orders, he threw up his commission in disgust, and took no 
 further part in the war. 
 
 The redeeming features of the expedition were the brilliant 
 and successful operations of Colonel Ogden and his New Jersey 
 boys, and the heroic defence made by the Maryland troops in 
 holding at bay for several hours a superior force of the enemy, 
 while Sullivan's troops crossed to this side.
 
 28 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 ,NEW JERSEY SOLDIERS BATTLED WITH INDIANS. 
 
 1WILL devote this chapter to the operations of General 
 William Maxwell's New Jersey Brigade, which took an im- 
 portant part in the long and wearisome march from this 
 town to northwestern Pennsylvania in the summer of 1779, and 
 in the short but decisive campaign in which it engaged against 
 the Six Nation Confederacy of Indian barbarians, for the foul 
 outrages it had committed the previous year upon soldiers and 
 peaceful settlers in Wyoming Valley, culminating in the brutal 
 massacre of several hundred defenceless men, women and 
 children. 
 
 The tales of butchery in that lovely and fertile valley in 1778 
 and the cries of mothers and children, outraged and driven from 
 their burning homes into the wilds of the almost impenetrable 
 forests in that region, heard over the civilized world, received 
 the execration of mankind, and brought fearful retribution, not 
 only upon the savages, but upon the soldiers of King George, 
 who paid ten dollars in gold for each human scalp. 
 
 A year passed ere Washington could attempt to avenge the 
 barbarities committed with the aid and approval of the British 
 authorities, and then retribution came surely and swiftly, the 
 leading part being assigned to three New Jersey regiments, 
 which performed the dangerous and onerous duties in a soldier- 
 like way, and to the eminent satisfaction of congress and the 
 commander-in-chief. 
 
 General Maxwell's brigade, after the battle of Monmouth, 
 in which it gained distinction, came to Elizabeth to recuperate 
 and obtain needed supplies in the way of clothing and shoes, 
 which it stood badly in need of. It spent the winter of 1778-79 
 here, and having enjoyed a long rest, was selected by General 
 Washington for active duty in the campaign he had decided to 
 wage against the Seneca Indians in northwestern Pennsylvania. 
 
 It was in the mellow weather, when the buds of May were 
 bursting into the blossoms of June, and all nature was glad with 
 the bright promise of the coming summers generous life, that 
 the brigade, which then consisted of Colonel Israel Shreve's 
 Second New Jersey, Colonel Elias Dayton's Third New Jersey, 
 Colonel David Forman's New Jersey Regiment (mostly Mary- 
 landers), Colonel Elisha Sheldon's (Connecticut) Regiment of 
 Light Dragoons, and a battery of light artillery, took its depar- 
 ture from the town to join the expedition, which Washington
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 29 
 
 had entrusted to Major General John Sullivan, of New Hamp- 
 shire, one of the truest officers in the army. Many friends of 
 the soldiers accompanied them several miles on the way, and the 
 leave-takings were sorrowful, owing to misgivings as to the 
 outcome of the battles which might be looked for with crafty 
 enemies in the wilderness. 
 
 The brigade reached the general rendezvous, Wyoming 
 (now Wilkes-Barre), in August, after a long and fatiguing march. 
 The other commands, composing the expedition, arrived shortly 
 afterward by way of New York, and while awaiting their ap- 
 proach the Jersey brigade marched up the Chemung river, a 
 distance of twelve miles, to a village of that name, where the first 
 Indians were encountered. Although the Jerseymen advanced 
 upon the village in broad day, they fell into an ambuscade, and 
 sustained quite a loss in killed and wounded. Surprised by the 
 attack, they quickly took to cover, and finally compelled the 
 savages to retire. The Jerseymen, in revenge, after driving 
 the enemy through the village, set the place on fire, destroying 
 every habitation, cut down several acres of corn, and retired 
 to Wyoming late in the afternoon, carrying along their dead and 
 wounded and a plentiful supply of corn, pumpkins and garden 
 truck, which they conveyed in boats that had been taken up the 
 river. 
 
 Shortly after this, General Sullivan ordered Colonel Shreve, 
 of the Second New Jersey, to build a large stockade fort at the 
 junction of the Susquehanna and Chemung Rivers, a few miles 
 away. The stockade, when completed, enclosed ground 100 
 yards square. It was formed by digging a trench nearly three 
 feet deep, and standing logs, about twelve feet long, therein. 
 Massive gateways were constructed on three sides. When the 
 brigade, in its forward movement, first reached the majestic 
 Susquehanna, which it was necessary to cross at a given point, 
 the battery opened fire on the dense woods on the opposite side, 
 the presence of Indians being feared. Scouts who crossed, 
 signalling favorably, the brigade entered the swiftly running 
 waters, which, in places, reached to the men's armpits. 
 
 Sergeant-Major Grant, of Colonel Dayton's Regiment, in 
 describing the crossing, says: 
 
 "The manner in which it was performed was by forming 
 platoons, each man grasping his fellow's hand supported each 
 other. General Hand, who commanded the division, quit his 
 horse and waded with cheerfulness. The water was rapid, and 
 took the men above the middle, notwithstanding, the army
 
 30 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 crossed in the space of half an hour without the loss of either 
 man or horse, or any baggage. The sight was beautiful and 
 pleasing, but must have been very terrifying to the enemy, who, 
 it is very probable, saw us from neighboring hills which over- 
 look the water. We likewise crossed the Tioga or Cayuga 
 much in the same manner as before." 
 
 To Colonel Shreve, of the Second New Jersey Regiment, 
 had been assigned the care and defense of Fort Sullivan, which 
 his men had constructed, while the rest of the army proceeded 
 further into the Indian country. His duties incurred great dili- 
 gence and responsibility. Besides his regiment of 250 men, 
 several hundred invalids were confided to his keeping. It was 
 anticipated that when the expedition reached the interior battles 
 would be fought, so Colonel Shreve was directed to provide 
 hospital, accommodations for the wounded, and also for the 
 removal of such as could be carried to Wyoming in boats. He 
 performed his duties so well that General Sullivan, on his return, 
 in general orders commended his "faithfulness, zeal and dili- 
 gence." 
 
 From August 30 until September 16, the army, in pursuit of 
 the redskins, voluntarily subsisted on a half ration of flour and 
 meat, most of which the men carried in haversacks. Their wants 
 were, of course, supplied with corn and such vegetables, planted 
 by the Indians, as could be found in the fields they devastated. 
 A crow would have found it difficult to subsist on what was left 
 by our army in its terrible march through that virgin and roman- 
 tic land. This diet, with the early autumn weather, occasioned 
 considerable sickness among the troops, but notwithstanding the 
 severity of the long marches and the dangers to which the men 
 were constantly exposed, the loss was but 41 men, of whom 4 
 died from sickness, 1 was drowned, and 1 accidentally killed in 
 camp. The latter was a captain in General Hand's brigade. 
 Thirty-five were killed in battle, and more than 100 wounded. 
 
 Pursuit of the Indians having ceased, the Jersey Brigade, 
 on its return, stopped at Fort Reed, to await the arrival of other 
 columns, and while here General Maxwell, so highly pleased 
 with the conduct of his men, and the success of the expedition, 
 held a jubilee, which Lieutenant William Barton, of the Second 
 New Jersey Regiment, a native of Hunterdon county, thus de- 
 scribes : 
 
 * * * l n the forenoon (September 25), the army all 
 discharged their muskets, with orders to parade at 5 o'clock in 
 the afternoon, each man to be furnished with blank cartridges.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 31 
 
 According to orders the whole paraded in a line to fire a feu de 
 joie, when thirteen rounds of cannon was fired. Then began a 
 running fire of muskets from the right through the whole ; this 
 not being performed to the general's liking, he ordered the whole 
 to charge (load) again ; after this was done he ordered the whole 
 to be put in readiness, and not a man fire until he should come 
 opposite him. All being in readiness, he put his horse off at 
 full speed and rode from right to left with whip and spur, men 
 -all firing according to orders, which made it very grand, and 
 caused the general to say it went like a hallelujah. After three 
 cheers .given for the congress in consequence of their resolutions 
 of the 18th of August, and then three for the United States, and 
 thirdly for the King of Spain, our new ally, and thus the day 
 ended with joy, the officers of each brigade furnished with one 
 of the best bullocks there was, extra." 
 
 The army reached Fort Sullivan September 30 at 2 o'clock 
 in the afternoon, and marched into the enclosure, where it was 
 received with military honors, the garrison turning out with 
 presented arms, the artillery firing a salute of thirteen guns, one 
 for each state. Lieutenant-Colonel Adam Hubley wrote of the 
 reception : 
 
 "Colonel Shreve, of the Second New Jersey, governor of the 
 garrison, had an elegant dinner provided for General Sullivan 
 and all the field officers of the army. We regaled ourselves, and 
 great joy and good humor was visible in every countenance. 
 Colonel Proctor's band, and drums and fifes played in concert 
 the whole time. Saturday, October 2, the commander-in-chief 
 made an elegant entertainment, and invited all the general and 
 field officers to dine with him. In the evening, to conclude the 
 mirth of the day, we had an Indian dance, the officers who 
 joined in it putting on vizors (alias Monetas). The dance was 
 conducted and led off by a young Sachem of the Oneida tribe, 
 who was next followed by several other Indians, then the whole 
 led off, and after the Indian custom danced to the music, which 
 was a rattle, a knife and a pipe, which the Sachem continued 
 clashing together and singing Indian the whole time. At the 
 nd of each the Indian whoop was set up by the whole." 
 
 In this expedition our army burned forty Indian villages, 
 destroyed 200,000 bushels of corn, besides thousands of fruit 
 trees, and immense quantities of beans and potatoes. It was 
 successful in every respect and extremely gratifying to General 
 Washington, who in orders from West Point October 17, con- 
 gratulated the army on General Sullivan's success, adding that
 
 32 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 "the whole of the soldiery engaged in the expedition merit and 
 have the commander-in-chiefs warmest acknowledgments for 
 their important services." 
 
 General Maxwell's brigade returned to this town the latter 
 part of October, and met with a hearty welcome from our peo- 
 ple, who, despite great joy at again beholding their brave soldier 
 boys, were compelled to laugh at their appearance their apparel 
 barely covering their nakedness, having been torn into shreds 
 by bushes and brambles through which for several months they 
 had been marching. 
 
 FIERCE BATTLE IN DEEP SNOW. 
 
 THE winter of 1779-80 in this region was of terrible severity, 
 causing intense suffering to man and beast. Cold 
 weather commenced in November, and snow-storms fol- 
 lowed in quick succession. The rivers and Staten Island sound 
 remained solidly frozen from November to the middle of March. 
 There was no navigation in the waters about New York for 
 nearly three months, the ice being of such solidity that horses 
 and vehicles traveled upon it with greater facility than on the 
 earth. 
 
 It was during this unexampled season that Washington's 
 troops at Morristown suffered so much for the necessities of 
 life owing to the blockade of the roads by snow. Foraging 
 parties had great difficulty in procuring and getting back to 
 camp with needed supplies, which they were obliged to seek from 
 farmers. Colonel Matthias Ogden, of this town, was finally 
 selected by Washington to scour Essex county and collect 
 what cattle could be found. Although he and his foragers 
 suffered more than tongue can tell from intense cold and expo- 
 sure, they managed to return to the camps at Morristown and 
 the Short Hills with the provender which the half-famished sol- 
 diers needed. 
 
 Washington, about Christmas time, sent General William 
 Irvine, of his staff, to this town to consult with Colonel Elias 
 Dayton, who, with his Third Regiment, was stationed in and 
 about the town, in reference to the practicability of making a 
 successful raid on Staten Island. Irvine promptly reported to 
 the commander-in-chief that his scouts had visited the island, 
 where they had found but about 1,200 men in all, most of whom 
 were renegade Americans without the spirit of fight, and the
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 35 
 
 sound so tightly frozen that it could be crossed in safety. Gen- 
 eral Irvine's report, endorsed by Colonel Dayton, was so roseate 
 in character that Washington at once gave directions for a 
 movement of all the troops in this locality that could be promptly 
 and conveniently assembled in Elizabethtown within a given 
 time. 
 
 General (Lord) Stirling, entrusted with the command of the 
 expedition, came down here just after the big snow-storm of 
 January 3, and at once commenced preparing for the work to 
 which he had been assigned. In his labors he was ably assisted 
 by Colonel Dayton, who, with his command, was burning to- 
 cross to Staten Island and engage the tories and refugees, many 
 of whom had left Elizabethtown early in the war for the good, 
 of the community and the cause. 
 
 Including the eight companies of Colonel Dayton's regi- 
 ment, General Stirling, within ten days, had the satisfaction of 
 seeing a force of 2,500 men assembled in this town. 
 
 It was on the night of January 14 that this little army ren- 
 dezvoused on the open parade ground in front of the First 
 Presbyterian Church on Broad Street, where previously had been 
 collected a large number of sleds and sleighs, any kind of a vehi- 
 cle to which runners were attached, and which could be drawn 
 by horses and oxen. These vehicles had not been requisitioned 
 for pleasure purposes, but were to be used solely for the trans- 
 portation of reserve ammunition, rations, medical supplies, etc., 
 to break a pathway through the snow which yet lay deep on 
 the earth, so that the infantry could more readily march, and 
 to bring back the dead and the wounded should there be any 
 casualties. 
 
 Before daybreak on the morning of the fifteenth the column, 
 full of joyous spirits, had reached the ice-bound sound, over 
 which it silently passed without detection or resistance on the 
 part of the enemy. The tramp over the salt meadows, waist 
 deep in snow, to the point now known as Elm Park, was ex- 
 tremely fatiguing, but the gallant men who were suffering and 
 about to imperil their lives in battle, uttered no complaint, being 
 anxious to revenge themselves upon the traitorous Staten Island- 
 ers, who bitterly hated the patriots of the town and the cause 
 they represented. . 
 
 The Americans at noon succeeded in reaching the forks of 
 the road at the "Blazing Star," now Rossville, thus cutting off 
 the British general Sterling encamped within a strong earth- 
 work on Pavilion Hill, where Fort Wadsworth now stands, from
 
 34 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 communication with Colonel (Lord) Rawdon, commanding the 
 Royal -Irish Volunteers, on the easterly shore at the foot of 
 the Narrows, and Lieutenant-Colonel Simcoe, in command of 
 the "Queen's Rangers," mongrel Americans, who espoused the 
 King's cause. 
 
 When the Americans reached the old Mill Road, now 
 Columbia Street, New Brighton, General Stirling divided his 
 force into three columns. The smaller detachment was con- 
 fided to Lieutenant-Colonel Willett, with instructions to proceed 
 to Decker's Ferry, now Port Richmond, and capture a tory 
 force of some 200 men, commanded by Colonel Van Buskirk. 
 
 The main column, commanded in person by General Stir- 
 ling, marched as rapidly as possible along the shore towards 
 Tompkinsville, at that period noted as a summer resort for the 
 wealthy people of this section. General Philemon Dickenson, 
 in command of the other column, proceeded on the old road to 
 Dongan's Mill, with instructions to keep constantly within sup- 
 porting distance. 
 
 The shades of night were falling fast when General Stirling 
 got within view of the British position, which was found to 
 be more formidable than had been expected. The strong re- 
 doubts occupied by the British had been made more difficult 
 to approach by the recent heavy fall of snow, which, by drifting, 
 had formed an immense bank on the western front. 
 
 Long before General Stirling reached the danger point his 
 advance had been discovered by the enemy, which at once, made 
 preparations to resist attack. Stirling, finding the enemy fully 
 alert and most advantageously posted, and much stronger in 
 numbers than he had anticipated, with night near at hand, went 
 into bivouac, to wait the advent of another day. During the 
 fearfully Cold night that followed, the Americans maintained 
 huge fires, around which they huddled to keep from freezing. 
 When day at length broke, General Stirling, learning that Knyp- 
 hausen was despatching reinforcements from New York, and 
 that the force under Colonel Willett had completely surprised 
 Van Buskirk's tories at Decker's Ferry, and burned nine sailing 
 vessels and a number of fishing boats, he ordered a retreat, which 
 was accomplished without molestation on the part of the enemy. 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Simcoe, in command of the British 
 cavalry and infantry encamped on the high grounds near Rich- 
 mond, on learning of the approach of our little army, in mortal 
 fear of an attack, hastily sent men out to gather all the cattle, 
 harness, horses and sleds in the neighborhood, and bring them
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 35 
 
 within his defensive works. This precaution was in a measure 
 successful. Simcoe hoped, in case of attack, to hold Richmond 
 until reinforcements could reach him from New York. He 
 gave up all thought of receiving assistance from General Sterling, 
 his immediate commander, when he learned the Americans had 
 marched to attack that officer at Tompkinsville, a few miles 
 away. 
 
 Simcoe, in his desperation, ordered Colonel Christopher 
 Billopp, who commanded the militia on Staten Island, to imme- 
 diately assemble his men in Richmond for the defence of the 
 place. But neither orders, entreaties, or the personal example 
 of Billopp had any effect. Not a man responded. None of 
 them had any desire to meet their old neighbors from New Jer- 
 sey. These gallant militiamen preferred to lounge around the 
 various public houses to talk of the war and drown their trou- 
 bles by drinking poor rum, or by providing for the security of 
 their cattle and other effects, which they were just now fearful 
 of losing, to meeting men they dreaded in battle. Most of these 
 fellows were refugees, and being originally from New Jersey, 
 some of them from Elizabethtown, they had every reason to 
 evade a call to arms, as in the not improbable event of capture, 
 they knew they would receive the short shrift their perfidy and 
 treason justly merited. A guilty conscience needs no accuser. 
 
 When Colonel Simcoe learned next morning that the Ameri- 
 cans were retreating across the island, he started in pursuit with 
 two companies of Hussars, but failed to overtake them. 
 
 Colonel Willett, after a lively brush with Van Buskirk's 
 tories at the Ferry, put them to flight, burned Isaac Decker's 
 house, because he had guided the British in their raids in this 
 state, set fire to a number of vessels, and came away with ten 
 prisoners, and many blankets greatly needed by our men. In- 
 formed of General Stirling's retrograde movement, he marched 
 rapidly and rejoined the column before it reached the sound, 
 which was crossed at DeHart's ferry at noon. 
 
 General Stirling, in his official report of his movements to 
 Washington, says : 
 
 * * * y^e re t reat was effected in good order, and with 
 very little loss. A party of the enemy's horse, under Major 
 Edwards, charged our rear-guard, but was immediately repulsed. 
 They had three men killed. Some few of the men were frost- 
 bitten, and though we took all the pains in our power to have 
 all those unable to march transported in sleighs, yet I imagine 
 a very few have been left behind.
 
 36 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 "* * * While the troops were upon the Island, a number 
 of persons from this side (Elizabethtown) took advantage of this 
 occasion to pass upon the island and plunder the people there in 
 the most shameful and merciless manner. Many of them were 
 stopped on their return, and their booty taken from them. All 
 the soldiery, on re-crossing the ice, were searched, and the little 
 plunder they had taken from them, and their names noted, that 
 they might be brought to punishment." 
 
 Incensed at the wanton vandalism and thievery of evil- 
 disposed men from this vicinity who followed General Stirling's 
 force to Staten Island, General Cortlandt Skinner, commanding 
 a brigade of tory New Jerseymen on the Island, quickly arranged 
 a "return visit" for retaliatory purposes. Skinner, a lawyer, was 
 the last English attorney-general of New Jersey. 
 
 Although most of the property carried away by General 
 Stirling's camp followers, invariably a worthless and cowardly 
 set, had been promptly returned to the despoiled Staten Island- 
 ers by Chaplain Caldwell, detailed by Washington to perform 
 that duty, they refused to be pacified, and smarting under the 
 infliction, demanded that the British authorities whose cause 
 they had espoused, should cross over to Elizabethtown and 
 obtain full satisfaction for the outrages committed. 
 
 General Washington, who had given express orders to 
 General Stirling against pillage or excesses of any nature, on 
 learning of the misbehavior of some of the soldiers, and the 
 thievery of the worthless vagabonds who went along, ordered an 
 investigation of the matter. When General Stirling reached this 
 side of the sound on his return, he halted his command, and had 
 his officers inspect the men for plunder. What was thus found 
 was at once returned to Staten Island under a flag of truce, and 
 the names of the men implicated in the robbery noted. Most 
 of them were court-martialled and punished for a violation of 
 orders. The camp followers were rounded up and compelled 
 to disgorge their ill-gotten wealth. 
 
 This restoration of the stolen articles, however, did not sat- 
 isfy the angry Islanders, and they importunately demanded that 
 General Skinner should invade the town, and take bitter revenge, 
 not only for the damage inflicted, but also for perturbing their 
 minds. General Skinner lost no time in acceding to their 
 demands, and having completed details for an expedition, se- 
 lected 130 infantrymen from the first and third battalions of 
 his command, and put them in charge of Lieutenant John Van 
 Buskirk, son of Lieutenant-Colonel Abraham Van Buskirk, a
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 37 
 
 native of New Jersey. Some fifty dragoons, commanded by 
 Lieutenant Neal Stewart, were also detailed for the expedition. 
 
 Everything being in readiness, the little force, guided by 
 the notorious Cornelius Hetfield, and his infamous brothers, Job 
 and John Smith Hetfield (all natives of this town), set out from 
 Richmond late in the afternoon of January 25, and crossed 
 Staten Island Sound on the ice at Trembly's Point, three miles 
 below this town. 
 
 The sixty American soldiers stationed here, to whom had 
 been entrusted the safety of the place, together with the inhabi- 
 tants, were in blissful ignorance of the advance of the enemy, 
 little dreaming of danger or molestation until awakened at mid- 
 night by fierce blasts of bugles and the heavy clatter of horses' 
 hoofs. 
 
 The British entered the town from the south by two differ- 
 ent roads before their presence became known to the people, 
 the Hetfield boys, familiar with every road and by-path in this 
 region, being excellent guides. The three brothers had been 
 banished from this town early in the war for treasonable prac- 
 tices, and taking refuge among men of their own ilk on Staten 
 Island, who gladly welcomed them, they became active partisans 
 for the enemy. These renegades, degenerate sons of a worthy 
 and patriotic sire, took fiendish delight when able to inflict dam- 
 age on the people of this community, which they never lost an 
 opportunity of doing, especially if the transaction was unattended 
 by personal danger. 
 
 There is a legend that while the British troops were in town 
 on this fateful night, Cornelius Hetfield rode over to the home 
 of his aged parents on the "Landing," and after rudely awaking 
 them from sleep, swore he would with his own hands apply a 
 torch to the First Presbyterian Church edifice. His father, a 
 highly-esteemed citizen and an elder in the congregation, impor- 
 tuned the wayward and head-strong boy to spare the sacred 
 building. He might as well have attempted to curb the wind. 
 Uttering loud and bitter imprecations, the unfilial son put spurs 
 to his horse and dashed rapidly away. An hour afterwards a 
 cloud-reaching flame, illumining the surrounding country, 
 proved that the renegade had fulfilled his impious threat. 
 
 The church building, also used for many years as a town 
 meeting-house, was built in the year 1665. It was a frame struc- 
 ture 36 feet wide and 46 feet long. The grounds attached em- 
 braced about eight acres, and extended west to the river, then 
 called "Mill Creek." The land was originally donated to the
 
 J8 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 church trustees by the first purchasers and their "Associates," 
 but as the original deed could not be found in 1719, the free- 
 holders "allowed" the grounds to the church trustees and their 
 heirs and successors. 
 
 Isaac Decker, whose house at the ferry at Richmond, had 
 been burned on the 15th by Colonel Willett's men, who had been 
 fired upon from its windows, still smarting under the injury done 
 him, applied a torch to the court house building adjoining the 
 church, and this, too, was entirely consumed. 
 
 The lurid flames from the fiercely burning structures were 
 seen by our soldiers in Newark and at other points, and the 
 long roll and other signals of danger sounded. It was a wierd 
 spectacle the people of this town witnessed that cold winter's 
 night when they saw flames consuming structures to which they 
 were devotedly attached, and jubilant and excited red-coated sol- 
 diers giving vent to their joy at the destruction of cherished 
 land-marks, which the patriots were unable to prevent. 
 
 The two buildings consumed were constructed of wood, and 
 neither had ever been beautified by artificial means. No union 
 painter's brush had sought their ornamentation. They had 
 weathered storm and sunshine for more than a century's time, 
 and were always objects of veneration to our people. The 
 church building was especially dear, hallowed as it was by 
 recollections of worship therein by Pilgrim fathers, and the reli- 
 gious instruction given by Dickenson, Spen-:er, Whitefield and 
 Caldwell, the most noted preachers then in this country. 
 
 The court house, one of the oldest buildings in town, was 
 used in the early part of the war for the confinement of prisoners 
 of war, Elizabethtown having been designated as a general depot 
 of exchange. It was here that the survivors of Benedict 
 Arnold's ill-fated expedition to Canada were brought for ex- 
 change. Colonel Ethan Allen, for a time, had charge of the 
 British prisoners confined here. 
 
 When the patriot father of the miscreant Cornelius Hetfield 
 visited the ruins on the following day his heart bled within him 
 at his undutiful son's sacriligious act. As there was no other 
 building in town capable of accommodating an audience, the 
 elder Hetfield tendered the use of his large frame building known 
 as the "Red Store House," located on the east side of Cherry 
 street, near Rahway Avenue, then the most populous and impor- 
 tant section of the town, and the kind offer being accepted by the 
 congregation, the structure was remodelled, provided with seats., 
 and for several years afterwards used as a meeting house.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 39 
 
 The sudden and totally unlooked-for descent of the enemy 
 caused consternation, not only among the American soldiers, 
 but among all the inhabitants who had been awakened by bugle 
 blasts, the hoarse voices of the British soldiery, and the dis- 
 charge of fire-arms. A dozen soldiers on guard at the Cross- 
 Roads (now Union Square) were the only ones who escaped. 
 They fled on hearing the firing on Cherry Street, where the British 
 first surprised the American guards, and gained our lines at 
 Newark. 
 
 The British cavalry crossed Mill Creek, where the stone 
 bridge stands on South Broad Street, and dashed rapidly up 
 Broad Street, the advance halting at Jersey Street. At that 
 period there were but half a dozen houses on Broad Street. 
 The loud warning the Britons gave to the people to remain within 
 doors was religiously observed, and no citizen had the temerity 
 to show himself out of doors until after daylight, and not then 
 unless morally certain the enemy had withdrawn. 
 
 The British having satisfied themselves with plunder from 
 private dwellings, and satisfied with the destruction wrought, as 
 well as the easy capture of five commissioned officers and some 
 fifty men of a Maryland regiment, retreated down what is now 
 Elizabeth Avenue and First Avenue, to the sound at DeHart's 
 Point. As a parting blow at the old town, the departing enemy 
 set fire to De Hart's ferry house, the bright light from which 
 illumined their pathway across the sound. 
 
 Washington, justly incensed., not only at the destruction of 
 public and private property, but at the non-watchfulness and 
 cowardice of the Maryland troops sent here to protect the town, 
 classified the event as a "misfortune and disgrace," and two days 
 afterward ordered General Arthur St. Clair, who was at the 
 Short Hills, to come down here and investigate the causes of the 
 disaster, and take command of all the forces from Paulus Hook 
 (now Jersey City) to Perth Amboy. 
 
 The winter of 1779-80 was the severest on record. The 
 ground was covered with snow from the middle of November to 
 the first of April. January 3, 1780, snow fell to a depth of from 
 four to six feet, and all the waters about here were frozen till 
 the first of March. The season opened late, not a blade of green 
 grass being observable hereabouts as late as the 18th of May.
 
 40 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 DESPERATE ATTEMPT TO CAPTURE GOVERNOR. 
 
 IN "the days that tried men's souls," New Jersey had no firmer 
 patriot or abler or wiser counselor than Governor Living- 
 ston. No Jerseyman, during the revolution, took so prom- 
 inent a part in public affairs. No man in the land did more for 
 the cause of American liberty none made greater sacrifices for 
 the public weal. No other Jerseyman was so bitterly hated by 
 the British and tories, and none was more cordially loved and 
 trusted by every friend of Freedom. 
 
 Time and again did the British and renegades on Staten 
 Island descend upon this town, both by night and day, to effect 
 the capture of the governor, but the most serious attempt in 
 this direction was made on the night of February 24, 1779. 
 when the 33d and 42d Regiments, with some light guards, num- 
 bering in all over 2,000 trained troops, under command of Lieut.- 
 Colonel Sterling (afterward general, who was killed a year later 
 at Union Square by an American sharpshooter), embarked on 
 Long Island, and a few hours afterwards landed without dis- 
 covery near Crane's Ferry, on Newark Bay, a mile north of the 
 present Singer factory. 
 
 The British force was guided by Cornelius Hetfield, Jr., and 
 his brother, John Smith Hetfield, Elizabethtown boys, who, three 
 years previous, had been banished from this place, owing to their 
 treasonable sentiments and opposition to the patriot cause. 
 
 After disembarking, long before daylight, the 42d Regiment, 
 headed by Colonel Sterling, marched rapidly across the meadows 
 by paths thoroughly known to the Hetfield boys, and soon gained 
 the upland near the present city almshouse (then known as 
 Woodruff's Farms). Reaching this point, the British com- 
 mander was surprised to learn of the non-arrival of the 33d Regi- 
 ment and the guards, who had failed to follow in the darkness 
 owing to a misunderstanding of orders. 
 
 Colonel Sterling reached the town as the Americans departed, 
 him forthwith, but the colonel of the 33d refused to recognize 
 the order given verbally by a man he did not know, and who 
 could not show any credentials. This blunder caused several 
 hours' delay, and imperilled the success of the expedition, as it 
 afforded time for the American militiamen to rally, which they 
 very promptly did as usual. 
 
 Colonel Aaron Ogden, a native of this town, first to learn 
 of the enemy's landing and of its advance, sent word to General
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 41 
 
 Maxwell, in command of a small force at the barracks on Cherry 
 .Street, and that gallant soldier at once assembled his troops, 
 alarmed the town, and retreated towards Galloping Hill, many 
 citizens hurriedly following, taking with them in their hasty flight 
 such personal and household effects as they could carry. 
 
 Colonel Stirling reached the town as the Americans departed 
 and quickly seizing all roads leading out, stationed guards to 
 prevent surprise. This accomplished the British commander dis- 
 patched a force, guided by Cornelius Hetfield, to "Liberty Hall," 
 to capture Governor Livingston. 
 
 Fortunately the governor was at the home of a friend near 
 Springfield, and thus escaped. The Britons, after quietly sur- 
 rounding the mansion, forcibly entered, and were surprised to 
 find themselves confronted by Miss Kate Livingston, the gov- 
 ernor's daughter, a brave and patriotic girl, who roundly de- 
 nounced the ruthless invaders of her home for their untimely 
 visit. 
 
 Miss Livingston, inured to war and without fear in her 
 soul, burning with indignation, ordered the raiders to leave the 
 mansion, and some, very much ashamed of themselves, were on 
 the point of complying, when the British officer in command 
 gave polite assurance to the brave girl that no harm should befall 
 her, and directed his men to make a search of the premises for the 
 governor. 
 
 This proving a fruitless errand, the commandant demanded 
 that Miss Livingston reveal the depository of the state's papers. 
 She parleyed with the officer as long as possible to gain time 
 for our troops to pull themselves together and reach town, and 
 only when her art at subterfuge failed, did she consent to lead 
 the way to an apartment in which she happened to remember, 
 was stored some worthless documents. A large trunk, filled 
 with important looking papers, quickly attracted the attention of 
 the raiders, and was removed in a hurry. The soldiers dis- 
 played great glee over what they considered a valuable find, and 
 departing, soon after joined Colonel Sterling in the heart of the 
 town. 
 
 While awaiting the return of the detachment from the gov- 
 ernor's home, Colonel Sterling had kept his men busy collecting 
 horses and cattle, a considerable number of which were gathered. 
 When the British commandant learned that Governor Living- 
 ston had not been captured, he gave vent to his rage by ordering 
 the burning of the state barracks on Cherry Street, and the par- 
 sonage of the First Presbyterian Church close by, and to make
 
 42 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 his visit more memorable he directed his men to fire the public 
 school academy, standing on Broad Street, where the First 
 Church lecture room is now located. One or two other struc- 
 tures were also fired. 
 
 Shortly after daylight General Maxwell, who had succeeded 
 in getting reinforcements from Rahway and Newark, having 
 meantime ascertained the position and strength of the enemy, 
 advanced on the town from the northwest, first engaging the 
 British posted at the river on what is now West Jersey Street. 
 The enemy opened a spirited musketry fire, but gave way rapidly 
 when the Americans opened with two light field pieces. They 
 speedily joined Colonel Sterling on Broad Street, where he stood 
 witnessing the burning of the Academy. Quickly recalling his 
 different detachments, Sterling, sending ahead the cattle his men 
 had stolen, commenced his retreat down Elizabeth Avenue, his 
 rear covered by the light guards. 
 
 General Maxwell, now feeling greatly encouraged, and al- 
 most sure of capturing the British force, followed in close pur- 
 suit, using his two field pieces with considerable effect on the 
 fleeing and disheartened foe. Before the British reached New 
 Point Road they had become so frightened that they were glad to 
 abandon the horses and cows, all of which were recaptured and 
 restored to their joyous owners. 
 
 The immediate pursuit of the enemy was entrusted to three 
 of the best officers in the American army Colonels Dayton, 
 Ogden and Barber all natives of this town. These gallant 
 spirits pursued the British relentlessly, giving them no time to 
 stop and fight, even if they desired that sort of relaxation. It 
 was fight by our farmer boys all the way to the water. While 
 the intrepid Ogden, who had the advance, was making a recon- 
 noissance, he was imprudently led into an ambuscade, and came 
 within an ace of losing his life. Suddenly confronted by four or 
 five British infantrymen, who had secreted themselves in the 
 dense brush lining the narrow roadway, he attempted to cut his 
 way out, and while doing so a Briton thrust his bayonet through 
 the right side of his body. Ogden's men, coming up, opened fire 
 on the Britons, some of whom were killed. Colonel Ogden, with 
 the rusty weapon still in his body, was taken to the building now 
 used as the "Old Ladies' Home" on East Jersey Street, where 
 it was finally removed through the efforts of several surgeons 
 who had been summoned. Colonel Ogden recovered from the 
 ghastly wound, although he was laid up for a long time, and 
 some years afterwards was chosen governor of our state.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. . 43 
 
 The retreat of the British down New Point Road was pre- 
 cipitous owing to the closeness of the pursuit by our enraged 
 militiamen. The enemy's officers made repeated attempts to 
 rally their men, but demoralization having superceded discipline, 
 their flight continued. At one spot our men made a gallant 
 charge, and got so close to the British that many of them, in 
 their fright, left the narrow roadway, and fleeing across the 
 meadows, became mired in the swampy land. 
 
 When the discomfited foe at length reached the place of em- 
 barkation, the men experienced great difficulty in getting to the 
 boats, which lay anchored some distance out in Newark Bay, 
 owing to the shallowness of the water, and had not the British 
 been protected by several sloops of war, which opened fire upon 
 the enthusiastic Americans, the entire force would undoubtedly 
 have been captured. 
 
 As it was the enemy had ten killed, forty wounded, and 
 twenty-one captured. 
 
 The Americans lost one killed and five wounded one of the 
 latter being Lieutenant Rencastle. 
 
 BATTLE OF CONNECTICUT FARMS. 
 
 ELIZABETHTOWN, during the winter of 1779-80, guarded 
 only from time to time by small detachments of Conti- 
 nentals and militia, was subjected to frequent raids by 
 renegades from this section, who, at the outbreak of the war, 
 had taken refuge on Staten Island, a settlement notoriously hos- 
 tile to the American cause. 
 
 Washington, in retreating from New York, made his head- 
 quarters at Morristown, echelonging his small and ill-provided 
 army along the foot hills, where his men suffered incredible hard- 
 ships, not only from exposure to the long period of intense cold 
 weather, but from the lack of food, difficult of procurement on 
 account of the great depth of snow that covered the earth. 
 
 On the night of January 25, 1780, a British force of infantry 
 and cavalry, numbering five hundred men, crossed Staten Island 
 sound on the ice, at Trembley's Point, and succeeded in enter- 
 ing the town by two different roads, before the small guard of 
 Americans, supposed to be on duty, was aware of its advance. 
 The raid was a complete surprise. The British dragoons in 
 their dash, killed and wounded several Americans, and captured 
 the others, most of whom were in bed. Among the prisoners
 
 44 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 taken were Major Eccles, of the Fifth Maryland Regiment, and 
 a Virginia colonel. 
 
 On retiring the elated enemy set fire to the court house and 
 the First Presbyterian Church adjoining. Both structures being 
 of wood, were rapidly consumed. The court house and grounds 
 attached had been used during the war as a place of confinement 
 for prisoners of war. 
 
 General Washington, highly incensed at the conduct of the 
 Southern troops thus surprised and captured, ordered an investi- 
 gation of "the late misfortune and disgrace at Elizabethtown," 
 :as he classified the event. 
 
 Knyphausen, in command of the British forces in and about 
 New York, was busily engaged all the spring in preparing for a 
 formidable invasion of this state. He boasted to the English 
 governor (Robertson) of New York, that when the weather con- 
 ditions permitted he would cross over to New Jersey and cap- 
 ture or expel from its soil the rebel army, which he knew to be 
 reduced not only in numbers, but to dire extremity. With the 
 great power of the British government behind him, granting 
 his every wish, Knyphausen was .given carte blanche in selecting 
 a force which he was confident would prove itself equal to any 
 emergency. The first commands that had been brought to this 
 country were chosen among them a squadron of dragoons, 
 known as the "Queen's Rangers," and the famous Coldstream 
 Guards, which some years afterwards made themselves immortal 
 T)y desperate fighting at Waterloo. 
 
 Knyphausen, determined to leave nothing undone to ensure 
 the success of the expedition on which he had centered every 
 hope, selected as commanders of his brigades General Edward 
 Mathew, General Sterling and General Tryon, whom he con- 
 sidered his ablest subordinates. To them was entrusted the 
 command of the three divisions, into which he divided his force 
 of between 6,000 and 7,000 men. To Sterling, the youngest and 
 most active and promising general, he confided the advance 
 column. 
 
 On the first of June this chosen corps, which had rendez- 
 voused in Battery Park some days before, began to embark on 
 vessels assembled off the Battery for that purpose, and a day or 
 two afterwards the ships sailed for Staten Island, landing the 
 troops on the eastern shore, from which point they leisurely 
 marched across the island to the high land opposite what is now 
 Elizabeth Avenue, where, going into camp, they remained until 
 the night of June 6, when the column took up its line of march
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 45* 
 
 over the intervening salt meadows and crossed the sound on a 
 pontoon bridge previously laid. 
 
 Colonel Elias Dayton, who had been stationed here for some 
 time with his Third New Jersey Regiment, occupying the bar- 
 racks on Cherry Street, had witnessed the arrival of the redcoats 
 on the western slope of Staten Island, and sent intelligence to- 
 Washington, who was still at Morristown. Determined to resist 
 the British advance as long as possible, on the night of the sixth 
 he posted a small force of sharpshooters at the junction of Old 
 and New Point Roads (now Union Square), with instructions 
 to lie in ambush and fire upon the British advance when near 
 enough to make their shots effective. The gallant and watchful 
 colonel told his men to retreat when such a step became neces- 
 sary, and fall back to Broad Street, where he would await them. 
 
 It was only when Aurora began gilding the morn on the 
 fateful seventh of June that this band, impatient during the long 
 night and longing for the day, first heard the beating of horses' 
 hoofs and the rattle of accoutrements, and shortly after saw a 
 dark mass advancing up Old Point Road (now First Avenue). 
 With fast-beating hearts and heavy flint-lock muskets well 
 primed, the American piquet, secreted in the underbrush, anxious- 
 ly bided the time for action. These brave farmer boy soldiers 
 fully realized the desperate undertaking in which they had cheer- 
 fully engaged, and were cognizant of the futility of any act which 
 they felt competent of performing, but, alive to the importance 
 of obeying orders, and intent on dealing a blow, however ineffec- 
 tive, to the insolent invader of their homes, they gladly perilled 
 their lives in thus boldly attacking an army of trained warriors. 
 
 Unconscious of danger, the British general Sterling rode 
 proudly in the van, his bright sword and golden helmet glittering 
 in the early sunlight. No thought of a lingering and painful 
 death disturbed the serenity of his mind no shadow of fear 
 crossed his handsome face, as, mounted upon a prancing and 
 gaily-caparisoned steed, he made his way along the quiet road, 
 burdened by deathlike stillness. 
 
 "Fire!" rang out the clarion-like voice of Ensign Moses 
 Ogden, an Elizabethtown boy of nineteen years, and the next 
 instant, from the brazen muzzles of thirteen muskets poured 
 forth a sheet of flame and death-dealing missiles into the serried 
 ranks of the invading host, the proud and haughty general 
 Sterling being unhorsed by a ghastly wound in his right thigh. 
 (He was removed to the house now occupied by the Old Womens' 
 Home on East Jersey Street, and subsequently conveyed to New 
 York, where he died one year later).
 
 46 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 What was regarded as the killing of their general, together 
 with the wounding of several horsemen, threw the dragoons into 
 a state of panic, and much confusion resulted. This afforded 
 time for the Americans to reload and fire again, which they lost 
 no time in doing, then fled up what is now Elizabeth Avenue to 
 Broad Street, where Colonel Dayton, who had impatiently awaited 
 them, complimented Ensign Ogden and his comrades upon their 
 gallant behavior and the efficiency of their effort. Young Ogden 
 was heartily greeted by the regiment, and lustily cheered when 
 Colonel Dayton announced what he had done. Sad to relate, 
 before the sun went down behind our western hills that day, the 
 heroic ensign sealed his devotion to his country and the cause 
 of liberty with his life's blood, being instantly killed in the battle 
 at Connecticut Farms (now Union) late in the afternoon, a ball 
 passing through his intrepid heart. 
 
 Colonel Dayton, with a portion of his regiment, made a 
 stand at Broad Street and Elizabeth Avenue, having previously 
 posted four companies at Broad and Jersey Streets to guard and 
 protect his retreat. He feared the enemy might attempt a flank- 
 ing movement by way of East Jersey Street, but the British com- 
 mander kept his column intact, and made no diversions. 
 
 The British column, having reformed after the unlooked-for 
 attack at Union Square, resumed its advance up Water Street 
 the dragoons having been superceded in the task of leading, by 
 the Coldstream Guards, who moved forward with circumspection 
 
 When Colonel Dayton found that British infantry had been 
 assigned to lead the column, he delegated a number of sharp- 
 shooters to cover his retreat, with instructions to annoy the 
 advancing host and retard its advance as long as possible. The 
 riflemen detailed for this hazardous duty, while slowly and sul- 
 lenly retiring, fired as opportunity offered from every available 
 covert trees along the highways affording them excellent pro- 
 tection. It was from this vantage that many Britons reddened 
 our soil with their blood on this momentous day. This resistance 
 while delaying the march of the enemy, gave time to rally the 
 militiamen in this section, who were temporarily at home attend- 
 ing affairs on their farms, and it aided Washington in getting 
 his army together to march south to meet the invading host. But 
 it was nearly dark when Washington reached the Short Hills 
 with the main body of his force, and learning of the repulse of 
 the enemy at Connecticut Farms and the bridge near Springfield 
 he went into camp to prepare for what he considered might be 
 an issue on the following day.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 47 
 
 Colonel Dayton retired from Elizabethtown by way of West 
 Jersey Street and the Galloping Hill Road, northwesterly to Con- 
 necticut Farms, his rear guard contesting every foot of the way. 
 At Galloping Hill there was a spirited fight, but the overpowering 
 numbers of the enemy speedily drove the Americans from the 
 untenable position, and the retreat was continued to the West 
 branch of the Elizabethtown River, where two companies of 
 Dayton's regiment, having chosen an admirable position, wel- 
 comed a score and more of the enemy to hospitable graves. 
 
 Meantime General Maxwell, to whose brigade Colonel Day- 
 ton's regiment belonged, had deployed his command in a semi- 
 circle on the highest ground northeast of the church, his left 
 flank resting on the Vauxhall Road, near what is now "Ye old 
 Meeker Inn," his extreme right being at the junction of the two 
 roads leading north and west. A few hundred feet from this 
 point stood a small frame house, in which lived in fancied security 
 the patriot wife of Chaplain Caldwell of Dayton's regiment. 
 Mrs. Caldwell, who had no fear in her soul, after serving a 
 British soldier with refreshments, was cruelly murdered by the 
 fiend who had enjoyed her hospitality. 
 
 General Maxwell had taken the position above described, in 
 order to guard the two roads leading north to Springfield, and 
 thus prevent the enemy from separating his force from Wash- 
 ington. 
 
 The fight at the branch southeast of the church was well- 
 contested, and continued for three long hours, when the Ameri- 
 cans, threatened by a flank movement, gave way, and joined 
 General Maxwell on the hill, half mile away. The entire Ameri- 
 can force present numbered less than fifteen hundred men, and 
 being without artillery, and no reinforcements in sight, General 
 Maxwell began his retreat towards Springfield, harassing the 
 enemy as opportunity presented itself. 
 
 But it was at the bridge over the Rahway River, which 
 crosses Morris Avenue, at the foot of Prospect Hill, half a mile 
 from Springfield, that the severest fighting of the day took place 
 Although the British brought all their artillery into requisition 
 and maintained a steady fire during the latter part of the after- 
 noon, the Americans withstood the bombardment with heroic gal- 
 lantry, and by a withering fire from muskets and rifles, and a small 
 iron field piece, succeeded in blocking the further advance of a 
 powerful foe. 
 
 Finding his efforts balked, and learning just before night- 
 fall that Washington, with a large force, was hurriedly advanc-
 
 48 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 ing, Knyphausen sounded a cessation of hostilities, and reforming; 
 his dispirited men under cover of darkness, which now enshrouded 
 the earth, commenced a hasty retrograde movement. 
 
 When the baffled foe reached the Farms village on their 
 return, they plundered every dwelling, a dozen or so in number, 
 and fired the structures after every portable article had been 
 removed therefrom. The Presbyterian Church building, a frame 
 structure, did not escape the incendiary's torch, and was totally 
 destroyed. It is recorded that Governor Robertson, of New 
 York, who accompanied Knyphausen on this expedition, in the 
 expectancy of witnessing the capture of General Washington 
 participated in the hellish work, and profited by a share of the 
 ill-gotten plunder. 
 
 Amid Stygian darkness, relieved only by vivid flashes of 
 lightning and burning buildings along the road, Knyphausen 
 "the drowsy tyrant by his minions led," succeeded in reaching 
 the lower part of Elizabethtown at daybreak next morning his 
 men drenched to the skin, covered with mud, exhausted, depressed 
 in spirits, and in a highly demoralized state. The discomfited 
 British evidently felt they had justly incurred God's wrath by 
 their crimes, and regarded the pouring rain, the lightning's flashes 
 and the loud-pealing thunder as admonitions from on high. The 
 lightning on this occasion is described by a German officer present 
 as "having frightened the horses" and "deprived the soldiers of 
 sight for a time." 
 
 Learning of the close pursuit by the Americans, who, despite 
 the raging storm, were in an exhilarating mood over their victory. 
 Knyphausen posted a battalion of "Yagers," armed with heavy 
 rifles, in a grove on Water Street (near what is now Reid 
 Street), supporting them with the 22d Regiment, a crack organi- 
 zation, and a battery of light artillery, at the junction of Old and 
 New Point Roads, now Union Square. A brigade of Hessians, 
 including the famous Coldstream Guards, and a squadron of 
 heavy dragoons, went into bivouac on a knoll below Rickett's 
 farm, near what is now Liberty Square at Third Street, with a 
 view of lending support in case of attack. With these disposi- 
 tions, considered ample, the British commander deployed the 
 remainder of his army in a northeasterly direction, and almost 
 parallel with the sound, the line being extended as far as Crane's 
 Ferry (near the location of the Singer factory). A considerable 
 body of dragoons was posted on the extreme right flank, guarding 
 the New Point Road. The British, in this position, possessed 
 superior advantages, enjoying, as they did, admirable cover in
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 49 
 
 the old earthworks constructed early in the war by the Ameri- 
 cans, and having their right flank further guarded by an impene- 
 trable marsh on the salt meadows, while its extreme left was 
 efficiently protected by British gunboats on the sound just above 
 the mouth of the Elizabeth River. 
 
 General Hand, in command of a brigade of the American 
 army, was stationed near Springfield, guarding the approaches 
 to the Short Hills. Unable to reach the "Farms" in time to 
 participate in the glorious battle of the previous day, he and his 
 men burned for an opportunity to pursue and punish the dastard 
 foe. General (Lord) Stirling, his immediate commander, having 
 been informed that the enemy, in a demoralized condition, had 
 recrossed the sound to Staten Island, leaving but a small force on 
 this side, acceded to General Hand's importunacy, and directed 
 him to proceed with his brigade of riflemen and a battalion of 
 militiamen to Elizabethtown, and "bring up those fellows at the 
 point." 
 
 Despite the rain, which fell in torrents, the gallant Americans 
 received the order with cheers which awoke echoes among the 
 grand old hills, and promptly commenced the march to the town, 
 over rough and heavy roads, making the task difficult and fatigu- 
 ing, yet not a murmur was heard in that loyal band. Every man 
 was eager to meet a foe capable of any enormity, even to the 
 cold-blooded murder of defenceless women, and with the killing 
 of Mrs. Caldwell uppermost in their minds, the heroic Continen- 
 tals pressed forward to avenge that patriot woman's death. 
 
 And thus ingloriously ended Knyphausen's much-vaunted 
 and first attempt to penetrate New Jersey, by which he had fondly 
 hoped to reach the American lines at Morristown, and capture or 
 destroy the small force encamped there. But the haughty Hes- 
 sian hireling, so confident in the morning of destroying the patriot 
 army, finding himself thwarted in his design by a handful of 
 American farmer boys, was compelled to beat a disastrous retreat 
 under cover of Cimmerian darkness, in the midst of a drenching 
 rain-storm, accompanied by fearful lightning and thunder, tc 
 retrace his wretched and weary way to the point from which 
 eighteen hours before, he had started under the most auspicious 
 circumstances, with all the pomp and panoply of war.
 
 50 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 BATTLE OF ELIZABETHTOWN. 
 
 GENERAL HAND entered Elizabethtown at about seven 
 o'clock on the morning of the eighth by two different 
 roads his columns forming a junction at the corner of 
 Broad and Water Streets, where a small outpost piquet of the 
 enemy was surprised and captured by a dash of his ill-mounted 
 troopers who had the advance. 
 
 Ascertaining from citizens and scouts that a strong force of 
 the enemy was entrenched at the Cross Roads (Union Square). 
 General Hand divided his command into three separate columns 
 and resumed his march towards the "Point," proceeding cau- 
 tiously down Water Street. Almost absolute silence prevailed 
 nothing being heard save the irregular tread of the men. When 
 near the tannery of that staunch patriot, Timothy Ogden, a lineal 
 descendant of John Ogden, one of the most influential founders 
 of this town, the head of column, received a volley from the 
 "Yagers," lying in ambush in a grove at what is now Elizabeth 
 Avenue and Reid Street, which caused some confusion among 
 the Continentals. While General Hand was making dispositions 
 to resist attack, the "Yagers" took to their heels, fleeing across 
 the fields in the direction of the Cross Roads shots from the 
 Americans adding to their terror and greatly accelerating their 
 flight. It afforded merriment to the farmer boys to witness the 
 celerity with which the trained troops of Britain ran after deliver- 
 ing a volley, which, happily, proved harmless. 
 
 A careful reconnoissance satisfied General Hand that the 
 British occupied a strong position at the Cross Roads, and that 
 the utmost caution on his part would be necessary to avoid disas- 
 ter. He accordingly despatched one column to make a detour 
 through the thick undegrowth to the left, and on gaining the 
 New Point Road, to bear down upon the right flank of the enemy's 
 position. Another column, the smallest of the three, was directed 
 to proceed to the right, and threaten the British left and rear. 
 
 General Hand,, after witnessing the departure of the two 
 flanking detachments, formed the remainder of his force into a 
 column of attack, and while waiting the lapse of sufficient time 
 to enable the two columns to gain the desired points for co-opera- 
 tion, addressed his men, exhorting them to pay attention to orders, 
 keep cool, as at Monmouth, and, above all, not to waste ammuni- 
 tion. The Americans, impatient of delay, could hardly be re- 
 strained from dashing forward upon the earthwork, now in plain
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 51 
 
 view, and but a few hundred yards in their immediate front. The 
 long-expected command, "Forward," was at length quietly given, 
 and with steady step the assaulting column pressed down Water 
 Street towards the common goal. It was evident to all that the 
 enemy were fully prepared to .receive them, yet not a man faltered 
 each felt the responsibility resting upon him all were eager 
 for the fray. 
 
 The British commander, who had been on the alert since 
 first learning of the advance of the patriot army, while confident 
 of his ability to hold the position assigned him, had apprised 
 Knyphausen of the approach of the Americans, and of the threat- 
 ened attack, and had asked that reinforcements might be kept in 
 readiness to assist him in the event of his inability to withstand 
 assault. From the redoubt the British commandant saw the cau- 
 tious advance of the Americans, for whose reception he had made 
 every preparation in his power. He had carefully trained his 
 artillery to -rake the road at the foot of the knoll (where Smith 
 Street now intersects Elizabeth Avenue), and with lighted 
 matches his cannoneers stood ready to obey his bidding, and hurl 
 a storm of iron hail upon the advancing patriots. 
 
 The crucial moment came at last, when the stillness of that 
 summer morning was broken by the booming of British artillery 
 and the rattle of small arms. The road (Elizabeth Avenue) 
 along which the Americans were making their way, was ploughed 
 "by cannon balls, whose hissing would have been sufficient to ap- 
 pall the hearts of others than patriots determined to punish the 
 cruel invader and drive him from the soil so dear to them. With 
 compressed lips and firm tread the Continentals pressed forward, 
 only halting when they reached the foot of the knoll, about one 
 hundred yards from the breastworks. It was from this point the 
 centre column opened fire upon the redoubt. 
 
 Meantime General Hand had received no tidings from either 
 of his detached columns, and finding the enemy too strongly 
 posted decided it would be fatal to storm the British position 
 without their co-operation. Passing and repassing his thin line, 
 General Hand, momentarily expecting to hear of the success of 
 the flanking parties, encouraged his lion-hearted men to hold their 
 ground and be ready to spring forward upon the works when the 
 opportune moment arrived. The American commander watched 
 with impatience for some signal from his absent detachments, 
 that he might at the proper moment rush forward and secure 
 the prize he had hoped was within his reach. 
 
 Directly, the British slackened their fire, having observed the
 
 52 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 rapid advance of the Americans along the New Point Road, from 
 the direction of Jersey Street. As this movement jeopardized 
 their safety, the British hastily limbered their guns, and fled pre- 
 cipitately to the rear, across the fields and down Old Point Road 
 towards the water. The two American columns entered the 
 deserted earthwork at the same moment, the men cheering wildly 
 over the success achieved. 
 
 Without waiting for the arrival of his third column, which 
 he had not heard from, General Hand ordered a pursuit of the 
 fleeing enemy, and a movement was made as far as Sixth Street, 
 where a halt was made, owing to the approach of a large force 
 up New Point Road. Finding himself largely outnumbered, the 
 American commander retrograded to the Cross Roads, where he 
 awaited the arrival of his right flanking column, which an aide- 
 de-camp finally found endeavoring to make its way out of a dan- 
 gerous morass in the vicinity of where the gas company's property 
 now is on Fourth Avenue. 
 
 General Hand, having united his columns, and finding him- 
 self unable to successfully cope with the large force now being 
 brought up to assail him, retired up Water Street, and so from 
 the town, his rear being well protected by his riflemen. The 
 British, however, were brought to a standstill where the Elizabeth 
 River crosses West Jersey Street, and thus ended the second 
 battle of Elizabethtown. 
 
 THE SECOND BATTLE OF SPRINGFIELD. 
 
 NEW JERSEY, sandwiched between the states of New York 
 and Pennsylvania, and particularly Elizabethtown, con- 
 tiguous to a large British army encamped for a long time 
 on Staten Island, suffered more from the enemy's depredations 
 during eight years of the revolutionary war than any other section 
 of the country. The most important battles and engagements 
 were 'fought in this state, and Elizabethtown came in for more 
 than a full share of the trouble. 
 
 Soldiers born in and about this town, including Colonel Aaron 
 Burr, whose after life was made miserable by selfish and design- 
 ing men, participated in almost every engagement from Quebeo 
 to Yorktown. They were at Trenton, Princeton and Monmouth ; 
 they accompanied General Benedict Arnold on his perilous march 
 to Canada, and were at Ticonderoga, and in the disastrous battle 
 on Long Island. They took part in the storming and capture of
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 53 
 
 .Stony Point, and were rewarded for their valor there by General 
 Washington, who presented them with a beautiful brass field piece 
 which the English captured from the French at the fall of Que- 
 bec. Elizabethtown boys opened the battle of Brandywine, and 
 distinguished themselves shortly after at the battle of German- 
 town. They passed the long and trying winter of 1777-78 at 
 Valley Forge, many of them without shoes, and none with suf- 
 ficient clothing. They charged fiercely at Monmouth under the 
 noble Lafayette, a fact he well remembered and stated when he 
 made a visit to Elizabethtown in 1824, receiving an ovation from 
 our people. In 1779 nearly two regiments of Elizabethtown boys 
 marched up the Susquehanna to avenge the massacre of whites 
 by Seneca Indians in the Wyoming Valley of Pennsylvania. 
 
 No organization of American soldiers fought on so many 
 fields during the revolution as General William Maxwell's brigade 
 of the "J erse v Line," composed chiefly of men, young and old 
 who claimed birthright in and about this town, which, I may add^ 
 embraced a large extent of territory, including the villages of 
 Connecticut Farms, Springfield and Newark. 
 
 In a previous chapter I described the battle of Elizabethtown 
 June 7-8, 1780 concluding with the enforced retirement of 
 the defeated British army within its works along the water front 
 on the evening of June 8. The British suffered severely both 
 days, but concluding to make another attempt to penetrate Wash- 
 ington's lines at and beyond the Short Hills, north of Springfield 
 when circumstances became more propitious, it remained on this 
 side of Staten Island sound. The boat pontoon across the sound 
 laid on the evening of the sixth, was kept intact, and thoroughly 
 guarded during the occupancy of the town by the enemy. 
 
 General Knyphausen, commanding the British columns in 
 the battles on the 7th and 8th, had proven such a "magnificent 
 failure" as a leader that he was superceded in command by Sir 
 Henry Clinton, who no more understood the character and ability 
 of the American volunteer soldier than his predecessor, though 
 he had witnessed their brilliant valor at Brandywine and on the 
 glorious field of Monmouth. 
 
 Clinton secured more artillery (having no less than half a 
 dozen field batteries) and additional men, and being fully pre- 
 pared for an advance to the mountains, broke camp just after 
 midnight on the morning of Friday, June 23, and marched rapidly 
 and silently through this town by way of First Avenue, Elizabeth 
 Avenue, and West Jersey Street, and thence northwest on the 
 road over Galloping Hill to Connecticut Farms, the scene of the
 
 54 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 recent defeat by our farmers, where, as the lovely day was just 
 beaming, shots were fired that initiated the battle of Springfield, 
 one of the best contested and spirited engagements of the war. 
 
 By this time the surrounding country had been thoroughly 
 aroused by the sullen booming of a large cannon and the blazing 
 of tar barrels at the signal station on Prospect Hill, near Spring- 
 field. These dread alarms summoned the militiamen from their 
 homes, at which they were permitted to remain when no danger 
 threatened, and they hastened to the various rendezvous with 
 rifle, bullet pouch and powder horn in hand. Not a man in this 
 section shirked duty that day. Some, too infirm to walk, mounted 
 horses and dashed to the point of danger. All were anxious tc 
 again confront the hated Briton and contribute to his expulsion 
 They bitterly remembered the cruel murder of the sainted Mrs, 
 Caldwell, a few days previous, as well as the burning of the church 
 and their homes at Connecticut Farms, and were eager to take 
 part in the fray, and drive back the haughty invader, the despoiler 
 of their firesides. 
 
 When the British commander reached the Farms he divided 
 his force, sending one column to the right by way of the Vauxhali 
 Road, running north through Headleytown to Milburn, to 
 threaten the left flank of the Americans, posted in the principal 
 pass over the Short Hills, while the other column was despatched 
 to the left, taking the narrow road running north till it intersects 
 what is now Morris Avenue, a mile and more this side of the 
 Rahway River, and half a mile from the village of Springfield. 
 
 Major-General Greene, one of Washington's trusted lieu- 
 tenants, in supreme command of the American forces at Short 
 Hills, had placed Colonel Matthias Ogden's First New Jersey 
 Regiment (Elizabethtowners), Captain George Walker's riflemen 
 of the Second New Jersey Regiment, and Lieut. Colonel Harry 
 Lee's ("Light Horse Harry" of Virginia) Famous Legion, in 
 which more than one hundred New Jerseymen gallantly served 
 during the war, at Littell's Bridge on the Vauxhali Road, to 
 resist the advance of the British in that direction. 
 
 To Colonel Elias Dayton's Third New Jersey Regiment 
 and Colonel Angell's Rhode Island Battalion, with a small field 
 piece, was entrusted the main defence of the village. Colonel 
 Dayton, ranking officer on this part of the field, stationed his com- 
 mand at the wooden bridge spanning the Rahway River, a few 
 hundred yards this side of Springfield, and a smaller force under 
 Colonel Israel Shreve, Second New Jersey Regiment, at the bridge 
 over a small stream, at the north end of the village. Colonel Day-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 55 
 
 ton, while impatiently awaiting the approach of the enemy, took 
 the precaution to remove the planks from the two bridges. This 
 was a wise proceeding, as it delayed the final advance of the 
 British, while getting their artillery across the stream, greatly 
 swollen on account of a rain-storm a day or two previously. 
 
 Meanwhile the British column on the Vauxhall Road, unable 
 to dislodge Colonel Ogden's command at Littell's Bridge, where a 
 stubborn fight took place, in which "Light Horse Harry" made 
 repeated charges with his dashing horsemen, moved to the right 
 and, completely flanking Ogden's position, compelled his retire- 
 ment. 
 
 When Sir Henry Clinton, who was with the main column on 
 Morris avenue, learned of this success, he moved his serried line 
 over a hill against Colonel Dayton's insignificant force at the 
 bridge. Clinton covered this movement with a fierce cannonad- 
 ing, no less than fifteen pieces being thus employed on the rising 
 ground three hundred yards south of the bridge. 
 
 Despite this formidable array of the enemy, and the constant 
 blazing of their artillery, Colonel Dayton's brave Elizabethtowners 
 and Angell's heroic Rhode Islanders, posted along the right bank 
 of the river, where the trees afforded excellent cover, maintained 
 their position, and kept the trained Britons at a respectful dis- 
 tance for nearly an hour. The small field piece possessed by the 
 Americans, planted on what is now known as "Battle Hill," did 
 good execution, and added greatly to the torment of the British 
 commander, who was surprised at the tenacity and intrepidity of 
 the little band of Americans. It was at this point that the chief 
 fighting occurred, and it was only when the ammunition of the 
 Americans was nearly expended, and a flanking movement on the 
 part of the enemy was being carried out, that the greatly out- 
 numbered patriots gave way, falling back slowly through the 
 village, taking their dead and wounded along. 
 
 There is a pretty legend that while the battle was in progress 
 the Elizabethtown boys being short of wadding for their flintlock 
 muskets, Rev. Mr. Caldwell the patriotic chaplain of Colonel 
 Dayton's regiment, ran to the Presbyterian Church in the heart 
 of the village, and gathering some hymn books, hastened back 
 and distributing them among his comrades, said: "Now, boys^ 
 put Watts into them." 
 
 The British pursued the retreating Americans through the 
 village and some little distance beyond, but on learning that 
 Washington was advancing with a strong force, Sir Henry halted 
 and smarting under the disgrace of his defeat by less than 1,OOC
 
 OO HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 farmer boys, for the time being militiamen, he eased his con- 
 science by giving the village up to pillage, a work in which his 
 followers were adepts. Before quitting the village the enemy 
 set fire to the frame church edifice and nineteen dwelling houses, 
 which, together with outbuildings, were totally consumed. The 
 humane Sir Henry was induced to spare four houses, occupied 
 by his wounded. 
 
 The British, in their hurried retreat back to this town, were 
 closely followed by our brave militiamen, who frequently am- 
 bushed the dispirited foe, killing and wounding many by the way- 
 side. The survivors entered the town in great disorder at sunset 
 and after a brief stop within their earthworks at the "Point," 
 crossed the sound. When daylight came nothing was to be seen 
 of the Britons or the pontoon bridge. 
 
 The reader must remember that all the engagements, from 
 the 7th to the 23d of June, took place within the territorial limits 
 of Elizabethtown, and that nearly all the men who so often bared 
 their breasts to the storm of war, were natives of this section 
 men who cheerfully left their everyday occupation and firesides 
 when summoned to field duty. The yeomanry of New Jersey 
 served without pay, and provided for their own necessities, even 
 to furnishing themselves with arms and ammunition. Theii 
 heroism, sacrifices and brilliant services should never be forgotten. 
 
 If there is a town in all this broad land of ours that is rich 
 in the memories of the past, rich in the traditions of "Auld Lang 
 Syne," rich in the fealty which she has ever shown towards the 
 state and national governments, it is the fair city of Elizabeth, 
 the resting place of the martyred Caldwell and his sainted wife, 
 of the heroic Ogdens, Spencer, Daytons and Barber, and of the 
 old home of the victor of Lundy's Lane. 
 
 The patriots of Elizabethtown, from July, 1776, to the latter 
 part of 1781, suffered more from the depredations of British and 
 tory marauders than the people of any other section. The town 
 during those five terrible years, lying contiguous to the British 
 army which occupied Staten Island, was subjected to almost 
 constant predatory incursions, some of which were attended by 
 great barbarities. Infants, children, old men and women were 
 left naked and exposed, and furniture, which the raiders were 
 unable to carry away, was wantonly destroyed; dwellings and 
 cut-buildings burned or rendered uninhabitable; churches and 
 public buildings consumed, and the most fiendish outrages per- 
 petrated upon women and even very young girls. 
 
 I believe these horrors had much to do with the failure of the
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 57 
 
 British soldiery to establish itself in this country, for had the 
 enemy paid for the supplies taken, and respected the rights of the 
 people, the cause of independence might have been lost. The 
 ruthless outrages of the enemy had the effect of arousing intense 
 indignation and embittered the people, who rose in their majesty 
 to repeal the invaders and revenge their personal injuries. 
 
 A resume of the leading incidents occurring in Elizabeth- 
 town during the war may be of interest: 
 
 1775. 
 
 Monday, May 8, members of Congress from Massachusetts. 
 Connecticut and New York, en route to Philadelphia, were met 
 this side of Newark by many Elizabethtown gentlemen mounted, 
 and escorted through the town to Rahway. The distinguished 
 party received an ovation here. 
 
 The Provincial Congress of New Jersey convened here May 
 27. William Livingston and John DeHart, of this town, were 
 the first representatives of New Jersey in Congress. They were 
 re-elected the following year. 
 
 July 17, the Town Committee forwarded to Washington at 
 Cambridge, Mass., fifty-two casks of gunpowder, purchased in 
 Philadelphia, and in August the committee sent on nearly seven 
 tons additional. It was carried in rack-riggings, covered with 
 hay, to allay suspicion. 
 
 July 17, the Town Committee resolved to re-establish com- 
 mercial intercourse with the people of Staten Island, they having 
 pledged themselves to prove true to the cause of American lib- 
 erty. The compact was broken by the Islanders the moment the 
 British army landed on their soil, July 2, 1776. 
 
 October 4, sixteen companies of infantry and one of horse, 
 belonging to the town, which then included the greater part of 
 what is now Union County, were reviewed on the parade-ground 
 on Broad Street. In 1868 a patriotic city council shamefully 
 surrendered this public space to the First Presbyterian Church 
 congregation, which it imprisoned within a high iron fence. 
 
 October 9, Congress issued its first call for troops from New 
 Jersey, and three regiments of eight companies each were 
 promptly organized. Two of these commands were composed 
 of Elizabethtown men. The First Regiment was commanded 
 by Lord Stirling, the Third regiment by Colonel Elias Dayton. 
 The men were enlisted for one year at $5 per month, and each 
 private, instead of a bounty, was allowed one felt hat, a pair of
 
 58 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 yarn stockings, and a pair of shoes. Each man had to supply 
 himself with arms. 
 
 In November Congress established a recruiting station here, 
 and Willis m Alexander (titular), Earl of Stirling, residing at 
 Baskingridge, came down here and organized the First New Jer- 
 sey Regiment of volunteers. 
 
 1776. 
 
 January 22, Colonel Stirling, with thirty men of his regiment, 
 and Colonel Dayton, with one hundred volunteers of his Third 
 Regiment, went to Perth Amboy (the latter party in boats), and 
 next morning captured the British ship, "Blue Mountain Valley," 
 j;ist in from England with a valuable cargo. The prize was 
 brought to this town and the cargo sold, the proceeds being 
 divided among the brave fellows who engaged in the undertaking. 
 
 February 5, Colonel Stirling marched to New York City 
 with four companies of his regiment. 
 
 March 1, Colonel Stirling was promoted brigadier-general. 
 
 February 3, Abraham Ogden was appointed lieutenant-colo- 
 nel of a regiment of light horsemen raised in this section. 
 
 February 10, General Livingston, commander-in-chief of 
 militia, sent three hundred Elizabethtown minute-men over to the 
 eastern shcre of Staten Island to resist a threatened landing there 
 of British troops under Sir Henry Clinton, just arrived from 
 Boston. Sir Henry, seeing our farmer boys along the shore, 
 thought it advisable to postpone his landing, and sailed away. 
 
 In March, Elizabethtowners commenced to throw up earth- 
 works along the water-front, and shortly after Congress called 
 upon this town to equip a battalion for service in Canada. Abra- 
 ham Clark, who signed the immortal Declaration of Indepen- 
 dence, replied : "If all the congresses upon the continent required 
 us to disarm ourselves at present, unless we are deemed dangerous 
 to liberty, I would not obey." The situation here at this moment 
 was critical, and our people acted wisely in husbanding every 
 resource. In fact, the want of proper arms was most seriously 
 felt by those who had enlisted. 
 
 March 24, Colonel Dayton marched his regiment to New 
 York for the defence of that city. 
 
 In June, anticipating the speedy disembarkation of the re- 
 cently-arrived British army from England and the continent 
 General Livingston ordered the removal of live stock from Staten 
 Island, and a force of light horsemen and militiamen went over 
 and brought the cattle to this town. The tories on the Island
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 59> 
 
 whose hearts were ever with the British, objected to the pro- 
 ceeding, but their wishes were disregarded. Staten Island was 
 intensely disloyal to the American cause throughout the war. 
 and for a long time afterwards. 
 
 July 2, the British landed on the eastern shore of Staten 
 Island, and next day marched over to this side. Their appear- 
 ance on the hills greatly excited the inhabitants of this town, so 
 much so that two young men, on the Fourth, crossed the sound 
 in a canoe and discharged their rifles at the red-coats. They 
 icturned in safety, although pursued by the enemy. 
 
 July 4, General Livingston wrote Washington that breast- 
 works had been thrown up from Elizabeth River, northward, as 
 far as where the Singer factory is now located, and that he had 
 mounted therein two field pieces, with a portion of Captain 
 Daniel Neill's company of artillery. During the evening of the 
 fourth a British sloop of war came to the Point, and was destroyed 
 by Neill's guns, the first to be fired after the adoption of the 
 Declaration of Independence. 
 
 July 10, nine Elizabethtown riflemen crossed the sound in a 
 boat and attacked a force of British soldiers engaged in throw- 
 ing up a breastwork on the meadows. One, with a venture- 
 some spirit, advanced alone upon the British force and demand- 
 ed its surrender. A ball through his head was the only response. 
 His comrades beat a retreat, leaving the body behind. In the 
 afternoon Colonel Smith, commanding here, sent over to the 
 Island for the body, which the British officer kindly surrendered 
 together with the dead soldier's rifle and all his accoutrements 
 
 July 18, General Mercer came here from Amboy to make 
 an attack on Staten Island. He took along 1,300 men and in- 
 tended crossing the sound at Thompson's Creek, opposite the 
 Blazing Star, but as he was on the point of embarking his force 
 in boats a tremendous storm of lightning and thunder came up 
 suddenly, compelling him to abandon the enterprise. 
 
 August 25, Captain Neill's artillery, posted at the foot of 
 Elizabeth avenue, where he destroyed the British gunboat on the 
 night of the fourth, opened on the enemy in the afternoon, the 
 British replying vigorously. 
 
 August 31, General Livingston was chosen the first governor 
 of New Jersey. He served with great satisfaction to the people 
 from 1776 to 1790 14 years the longest term any governor of 
 this state ever had. 
 
 September 24, four vessels arrived here with 420 American 
 soldiers taken prisoners at Quebec. They were under parole.
 
 <60 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 October 13, General Matthias Williamson, commanding the 
 militia here, crossed to Staten Island with a considerable force, 
 and had a sharp skirmish with the enemy, who compelled him to 
 withdraw. 
 
 November 21, owing to Washington's contemplated retreat 
 through the state, all the families in Newark and Elizabeth moved 
 their effects to the mountains. 
 
 November 26, Colonel Jacob Ford, Jr., of Morris County 
 came down here with all the militiamen he could gather. Each 
 man had four days' rations, a gun, accoutrements and a blanket. 
 
 November 28, Washington, with 3,500 disheartened meni 
 entered this almost deserted town. After a brief rest, he con- 
 tinued on to Trenton, which he reached December 2. 
 
 December 2, Lord Cornwallis' powerful army reached here. 
 He left a considerable force under command of General Leslie, 
 and went on in pursuit of Washington. 
 
 December 17, Major Oliver Spencer, of this town, assisted 
 by Colonel Jacob Ford, Jr., administered a stunning defeat to 
 General Leslie's 2,000 British regulars at Springfield. 
 
 1777. 
 
 January 6, General Maxwell came down here from the Short 
 Hills, and drove a large force of Hessians out of Springfield 
 Newark, and Elizabeth town, pursuing them to Spanktown (Rah- 
 way), where he had a spirited fight for two hours, inflicting severe 
 ioss on the enemy. In the engagement here General Maxwell 
 captured thirty Hessians, fifty Highlanders and numerous wagons 
 loaded with baggage. Thus, in a month, the enemy had been 
 driven from New Jersey, and the hopes of the patriots rose high. 
 
 February 27, Major Tympany came over here from Staten 
 Island with sixty men, and after a sharp conflict at the cross- 
 roads was compelled to flee. 
 
 August 27, Colonel Matthias Ogden, commanding the First 
 New Jersey, and Colonel Elias Dayton, commanding the 
 Third New Jersey, joined General Sullivan's division here, and 
 crossing to Staten Island, attacked Skinner's New Jersey Pro- 
 vincials, posted along the western shore, from Decker's Ferry 
 (Port Richmond), to Tottenville. Ogden and Dayton success- 
 fully carried out the program assigned them, but the rest of Sul- 
 livan's command lost heavily, owing to failure in finding boats in 
 which to recross the sound. 
 
 November 27, General Dickinson, commanding the militia 
 here, with the approval of Washington, crossed the sound to
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 61 
 
 Staten Island during the night, and attacked Skinner's tories. 
 Being outnumbered Dickinson retired, getting back here at noon 
 next day, bringing a number of prisoners. Three royalists 
 were captured and fourteen wounded. 
 
 1778. 
 
 Affairs were remarkably quiet in town during this year, and 
 almost everybody occupied their homes and farms. 
 
 December 1, General Washington, whose headquarters were 
 at Bound Brook, came down here to review General Maxwell's 
 New Jersey brigade. He remained five days, and was a guest of 
 a number of our people. The occasion was made festive. 
 
 1779. 
 
 February 25, the 33d and 42d British Regiments and a com- 
 pany of Horse Guards, under command of Lieut. Colonel Sterling 
 from Long Island, landed near where the Singer factory now is 
 and entered the town by way of New Point Road before their 
 landing became known. The object of this expedition was tq 
 effect the capture of Governor Livingston, upon whose precious 
 bead a high price had been set by high British officials. Major 
 Aaron Ogden first discovered the presence of the enemy and gave 
 an alarm, and at daybreak General Maxwell arrived and made a 
 furions onslaught on the raiders, driving them through the town 
 to their boats. Before Maxwell arrived, however, the British set 
 fire to the First Church parsonage and barracks on Cherry Street 
 and the public academy on Broad street. It was while pursuing 
 the enemy along the New Point Road that a British soldier in 
 ambush thrust a bayonet through the body of Major Aaron 
 Ogden, from the effects of which he never recovered. 
 
 1780. 
 
 January 3, snow fell to a depth of five or six feet, while 
 Staten Island and New York Bay were frozen to such solidity that 
 horses and wagons could travel better on the ice than on the earth 
 
 January 15, General William Irvine, with 2,500 men, includ- 
 ing Colonel Dayton's regiment, crossed the sound on the ice, and 
 attacked the enemy on Staten Island. The troops, despite the 
 deep snow and intense cold, did much damage to the property 
 of the Islanders, and returned next day at noon. Many of the men 
 were badly frost-bitten. 
 
 January 25, in retaliation for this raid, this town was invaded 
 by a strong force of the enemy, which succeeded in entering the
 
 62 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 heart of the town about ten o'clock in the evening, before their 
 advance was discovered. They captured fifty American soldiers, 
 ind before departing burned the First Presbyterian Church and 
 Court House. Cornelius Hetfield, Jr., a native of the town, acting 
 as a guide to the British, applied the torch to the sanctuary in 
 which his aged father worshipped. 
 
 February 10, a column of British, under Generals Skinner 
 and Sterling, crossed the sound on the ice, and created dismay 
 among our people. After plundering a number of houses, the 
 enemy hastily withdrew, taking much plunder and a number of 
 inoffensive citizens along as prisoners. 
 
 The winter of 1779-80, passed in constant alarm and terror, 
 was noted for the awful severity of the weather and the devasta- 
 tion of the merciless foe, aided by the renegade Hetfields, who 
 fled to the British on Staten Island in 1776. 
 
 1780. 
 
 June 6, six thousand British regulars landed early in the 
 evening at the "Point," now foot of Elizabeth Avenue. 
 
 June 7, the enemy, under General Knyphausen, advanced up 
 Old Point Road (now First Avenue), and were fired upon at the 
 Cross Roads by an American piquet of thirteen farmer boys, 
 posted there by Colonel Dayton. General Sterling, in command 
 of the advance, was unhorsed by a shot fired by Ensign Moses 
 Ogden, age 19 years. Sterling died from the wound a year later, 
 while young Ogden gave his life at Connecticut Farms during 
 the battle there in the afternoon. The British force, after cruelly 
 murdering Mrs. Caldwell, and burning the Presbyterian Church 
 and a dozen dwelling houses, hastily retreated from the hamlet, 
 re-entering this town early in the evening. They marched to 
 the water front and took refuge in the earthworks there. A 
 small force, however, was left at the Cross Roads, at the Junction 
 of Old and New Point Roads. 
 
 June 8, General Hand, who had followed the British from 
 Connecticut Farms, entered the town at daybreak, and at once 
 attacked the enemy at the Cross Roads, driving the detachment 
 down First Avenue as far as Third Street, where it was rein- 
 forced by Knyphausen's entire army. General Hand, finding him- 
 self greatly outnumbered., and fearing a flanking movement, 
 retreated by way of Elizabeth Avenue, Broad Street, and West 
 Jersey Street. The British pursued the Americans to the Eliza- 
 beth River, when they returned and occupied their former posi- 
 tions.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 63 
 
 The British remained here till the morning of June 23, when, 
 under the guidance of Sir Henry Clinton, the entire force, with 
 additional field batteries, moved through the town, one column 
 going westerly by way of Galloping Hill, the other northerly 
 by the Vauxhall Road, to Springfield, where a severe battle took 
 place, resulting in the defeat and precipitate retreat of the 
 invaders. 
 
 1781. 
 
 During this year the town was almost constantly overrun by 
 "Cow-boys" and other Staten Island thieves. They gave our peo- 
 ple but little rest, and made their lives as wretched as possible. 
 The raids were generally made on moonless nights. 
 
 November 24, Rev. Mr. Caldwell, a chaplain in the Con- 
 tinental army, was shot dead without provocation by a native of 
 Ireland named Morgan, who had but recently joined the Ameri- 
 can army for one year. The murder took place on a sloop lying 
 at the wharf, foot of Elizabeth Avenue. Morgan, convicted 
 of the foul crime, was subsequently hung at Westfield. 
 
 1782. 
 
 June 20, Major William Crane, of this town, with a party 
 of thirty soldiers, rowed around to the east side of Staten Island, 
 and captured two large whale boats, which had been fitted out 
 for a piratical cruise. 
 
 1783. 
 
 i 
 
 Perhaps the last act in the eight years' drama was performed 
 by Major William Crane, who, although a landsman, was equally 
 at home on the water. With seven companions Major Crane 
 embarked in a shallop on the evening of March 3, and sailed for 
 New York City, where, off the Battery, he successively boarded 
 and captured the British sloop-of-war "Katy" of twelve four- 
 pounders, and the British ship "Eagle," mounting twenty-four 
 -guns. Major Crane, after the war, was mayor of this town.
 
 64 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 TERRORIZED WHOLE COMMUNITIES. 
 
 THE most notorious characters in the eastern section of New 
 Jersey during the greater part of the revolution were Cor- 
 nelius Hetfield, Jr., and his brothers, Job and John Smith 
 Hetfield, natives of Elizabethtown. The Hetfields, in 1778, be- 
 coming haters of the patriots' cause, went about town, heavily 
 armed, threatening the lives of all who condemned royalists. 
 They took good care to make their threats during the absence of 
 troops from the town, but shortly after, a number of citizens, who 
 resolved to submit no longer to abuse from the Hetfields, got 
 together and ordered them to leave the place. They were con- 
 veyed to Staten Island, where they remained until the war was 
 over. 
 
 A few weeks after this their property was confiscated and 
 sold at auction. 
 
 The Hetfields, on reaching Staten Island, became active 
 partisans for the British, and neglected no opportunity to do 
 injury to their former neighbors. 
 
 Cornelius, the most daring and bitter of the two, guided 
 the Thirty-third and Forty-second British Regiments, under 
 Lieut.-Colonel Sterling, who landed on the night of February 24, 
 1779, near where the Singer factory now stands, to the home of 
 Governor Livingston, on Morris Avenue, hoping to effect his 
 capture. 
 
 Failing in this, the British, in the rage of their disappoint- 
 ment, burned the barracks and Presbyterian parsonage on Cherry 
 Street, and an hour afterwards destroyed the academy at Broad 
 Street and Caldwell Place, where now stands the lecture room 
 of the First Presbyterian Church. It is recorded that Hetfield 
 "danced itout the fire like a savage," so great was his glee over 
 the wanton destruction. 
 
 On the night of Saturday, June 12, 1779, Cornelius Hetfield 
 with five other banditti, crossed Staten Island Sound in a skiff, 
 and, reaching the home of Lieutenant John Haviland, who lived 
 near the water, surprised him in his bed, plundered the house of 
 its contents and succeeded in recrossing the sound to the island 
 in safety, taking Haviland and others along as prisoners. 
 
 A few days after this it was discovered that the negroes in 
 this town contemplated murdering all the white inhabitants, and 
 many of them were arrested and punished. Three were burned 
 at stakes. Cornelius Hetfield was one of the instigators of this 
 conspiracy.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 65 
 
 During the night of January 25, 1780, a strong British force 
 from Staten Island crossed the sound on the ice at Tremley's 
 Point, and entered the town before the few militiamen on guard 
 here could sound an alarm. The Britons were piloted by Cor- 
 nelius, Job and John Smith Hetfield. It is said that while the 
 British were collecting cattle, Cornelius rode over to the home of 
 his parents on Pearl Street and, after rudely awakening them 
 swore he would not leave town until he had burned the First 
 Presbyterian Church, of which congregation his aged father was 
 a worthy elder. The renegade carried out his threat, applying 
 the torch with his own hands to the hallowed structure. 
 
 The court house building, a frame structure adjoining the 
 church, was also set on fire and consumed. The British hur- 
 riedly left town before daybreak, taking with them two majors, 
 three captains and forty-seven privates. 
 
 All is considered fair in war, but I must now narrate one of 
 the blackest crimes perpetrated in this region during the entire 
 war, for which no excuse can be offered. 
 
 Cornelius and John Smith Hetfield and four boon com- 
 panions, all natives of this town, captured Stephen Ball, of Rah- 
 way, who visited Staten Island under assurance of protection, 
 and escorted him to the headquarters of General Patterson, the 
 British commander on Staten Island. This officer saw no evil 
 in Ball, and refused to hold him. Hetfield, who hated Ball, then 
 took him to General Skinner, who also refused to proceed against 
 him. Hetfield alleged that Ball had aided in the execution in 
 1779 of Thomas Long, a refugee from this state, but the two 
 generals were not satisfied with the truth of Hetfield's charge, 
 and ordered his release. 
 
 This maddened the Hetfields, who took him across the sound 
 to Bergen Point, and hung him to a tree without further cere- 
 mony. 
 
 John Smith Hetfield was captured at Westfield while steal- 
 ing cattle, and sent under strong guard to the jail at Burlington, 
 where he was heavily ironed. He subsequently effected his 
 escape, and George Hair, the jailor, was fined $3,000 for "letting 
 him do so." After the war he was tried at Bergen Point for par- 
 ticipation in the brutal murder of Stephen Ball, but was dis- 
 charged on account of the "absence of material witnesses," and 
 admitted to bail. He shortly after fled the country. 
 
 Cornelius Hetfield, after peace had been declared, sailed 
 for England, where he remained until 1808, when he came to 
 Elizabethtown, to take charge of the Hetfield farm, bequeathed
 
 66 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 him by his father, to whom, by the way, he had been ungrateful. 
 His return was no sooner learned than he was arrested and taken 
 to the jail in Newark, where he was confined until his trial for 
 being the principal murderer of Stephen Ball. 
 
 Hetfidd was able to secure the services of three of the ablest 
 lawyers in the state Colonel Aaron Ogden (ex-governor and 
 ex-United States senator) and Isaac H. Williamson (afterwards 
 governor), and William Chetwood. After an exhaustive trial 
 Judge Pennington discharged Hetfield, declaring that "by the 
 spirit of the treaty of 1783, he was not answerable for the 
 transaction." 
 
 Hetfield, thus escaping, returned to England, where he died- 
 at an advanced age. 
 
 DELIGHTED TO PUNISH THE BRITISH. 
 
 GENERAL WILLIAM CRANE, a native of Elizabeth- 
 town, and its first mayor after the war, first saw service 
 in Canada, whither he went with Aaron Burr and other 
 town boys in the disastrous Montgomery expedition. He was 
 appointed a lieutenant of an artillery company, and as such won 
 a reputation as a fighter that lasted him through life. It was 
 while his gun was doing good service at Quebec on that terribly 
 stormy night December 31, 1775 that Lieutenant Crane re- 
 ceived a wound in his left ankle, from a shot fired by the old gun 
 now reposing on the Court House lawn, from the effects of which 
 he died forty years later. 
 
 "It was in March, 1783, long after a treaty of peace between 
 England and this colony had been signed, and while the English 
 soldiers were preparing to evacuate New York City, that Major 
 Crane designed and successfully carried out one of the most dar- 
 ing acts of the revolution. The major, owing to the ghastly 
 wound received at Quebec, from which he never recovered, and 
 unable to remain on active duty during the war, attached himself 
 to the militia, or home-guard, and thus rendered good service. 
 He had intense, burning hate for the English, and although 
 peace had been declared, determined to deal a final blow to the 
 enemy. It was the last act of hostility. 
 
 The major called a number of boys together one evening 
 and presented a plan for capturing or destroying a couple of 
 English gunboats he knew to be anchored off the Battery in New 
 York. Thinking it would be sport to engage in the enterprise.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 67 
 
 six promptly offered to accompany the major and Captain "Bill" 
 Quigley on the expedition. 
 
 Each armed with a cutlass and musket, they embarked in a 
 whale boat early on the evening of March 3, and although the 
 winds were strong, and the waters rough, before midnight they 
 reached a point under a small island, within easy reach of the 
 Battery, off which two vessels were at lazy anchor. 
 
 It was here that Major Crane repeated his instructions, and 
 all being prepared, with muffled oars they rowed to the nearest 
 vessel, which proved to be the sloop "Katy," armed with twelve 
 four-pound guns. It was but the work of a moment to leap 
 upon the "Katy's" deck, which the men did the instant their craft 
 reached its side, and before any alarm could be given by the 
 single guard, stationed at the entrance to the captain's cabin 
 he was seized and gagged. The rest was easy. The crew, num- 
 bering forty, were surprised. After bucking and gagging the 
 officers and crew, the major left two of his followers to guard 
 the prisoners who were locked in the captain's cabin, and with 
 Quigley and the other four, rowed quietly to another vessel, close 
 at hand, which they subsequently ascertained to be the sloop-of- 
 war "Eagle," of twenty-four guns. 
 
 The major had no difficulty in capturing the "Eagle," but as 
 she was hard aground was compelled to leave her there, much 
 to his regret. Major Crane, after transferring the crew and 
 removing some valuables from the "Katy, "thought of setting fire 
 to the "Eagle," but afraid of pursuit by other war vessels close 
 by and well satisfied with his success in taking the "Katy," he 
 hoisted sail on that vessel, and as Aurora was casting his bright 
 beams over the old town, sailed into the Kills, firing the "Katy's" 
 guns as fast as his men could load them, alarming the inhabitants 
 and making a din that had not been heard here in a long time. 
 Many people made haste to get down to the ferry at what is now 
 the foot of Elizabeth avenue, wondering what could have occa- 
 sioned such an infernal noise. 
 
 A few days later the vessel and cargo, which was valuable, 
 on account of the large stock of good old Jamaica found on 
 board, were sold at auction, the proceeds being devoted to town 
 purposes. 
 
 Major Crane's exploit caused a sensation, and for many 
 years afforded a theme of conversation among our people. He 
 died, universally icgretted, at the age of 67 years, on the ninth 
 of July, 1814, having a year previously suffered the amputation 
 of the leg which was torn by a shot at Quebec, nearly forty years 
 "before.
 
 68 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 ELIZABETH OFFICERS THREATENED MUTINY. 
 
 THE New Jersey Brigade of the Continental Army, during 
 the winter of 1779, was encamped in and about Elizabeth- 
 town, guarding it from probable incursions of British 
 troops, stationed on Staten Island. When spring opened the 
 various regiments were ordered to march away to reinforce the 
 western aimy, then about to open the campaign. 
 
 During the winter the officers of the First Regiment had 
 appealed to the state legislature for a redress of certain griev- 
 ances, especially as to the pay and subsistence which they re- 
 ceived, but no attention was given the petitions for a betterment 
 of their condition. 
 
 When the orders came to march the officers of the First 
 Regiment sent a icmonstrance through Colonel Ogden, addressed 
 to the legislature declaring that unless their complaints received 
 immediate attention they were, at the expiration of three days, 
 to be considered as having resigned their positions, and request- 
 ing the legislature in that event to appoint other officers. 
 
 General Maxwell, to whom Colonel Ogden forwarded the 
 remonstrance to the state legislature, endorsed it with the follow- 
 ing words: 
 
 * * * This is a step they (the officers) are unwilling tc 
 take, but is such, as I make no doubt, they will all take. Noth- 
 ing but necessity, their not being able to support themselves in 
 time to come, and being loaded with debts contracted in time 
 past, would have induced them to resign at so critical a juncture." 
 
 The officers, while awaiting a reply from the authorities 
 continued making preparations for obeying the orders to march 
 away to battle, and declared they would continue on duty until a 
 reasonable time after the appointment of their successors should 
 elapse. 
 
 The paper currency had depreciated to such an extent that 
 it had but little value. It was scarcely worth accepting. The 
 officers, in rags, were ashamed to appear at social gatherings 
 arranged in their honor, and actually suffered for the want of 
 proper food because of their inability to make needed purchases 
 
 Washington, who knew of the distress of the officers, and 
 deeply sympathized with them, repeatedly urged upon Congress 
 the necessity of making some general and adequate provisions 
 for them. At one time, Washington wrote Congress that the 
 distress in some of the corps "is so great that officers have
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 69 
 
 solicited even to be supplied with the clothing issued to the com- 
 mon soldier, coarse and unsuitable as it is. 1 had not power to 
 comply with the request. The patience of men animated by a 
 sense of duty and honor will support them to a certain point, 
 beyond which it will not go. I doubt not Congress will be sensi- 
 ble of the danger of an extreme in this respect, and will pardon 
 my anxiety to obviate it." 
 
 The remonstrance and letter of General Maxwell had the 
 effect of bringing the lawmakers to a realizing sense of their duty, 
 and they at once authorized a commissioner to furnish the officers 
 with clothing to the amount of two hundred pounds, and to pay 
 each soldier in the brigade the sum of forty dollars each. This 
 action removed the only obstacle to the forward movement of 
 the brigade. 
 
 Washington, who was strongly attached to the army, knew 
 the virtue of the men, their sufferings, and the justice of their 
 complaints, wrote the following letter to General Maxwell, tc 
 be laid before the officers: 
 
 "There is nothing which has happened in the course of the 
 war that has given me so much pain as the remonstrance you 
 mention from the officers of the First Jersey Regiment. 
 
 "I cannot but consider it a hasty and imprudent step, which 
 on more cool consideration they will themselves condemn. I 
 am very sensible of the inconveniences under which the officers 
 of the army labor, and I hope they will do me the justice to believe 
 that my endeavors to provide them relief are incessant. There 
 is more difficulty, however, in satisfying their wishes than per- 
 haps they are aware of. Our resources have been hitherto very 
 limited. The situation of our money is no small embarrassment, 
 for which, though there are remedies, they cannot be the work 
 of a moment. 
 
 "* * * I confess the appearances in the present instance 
 are disagreeable; but I am convinced they seem to mean more 
 than they really do. The Jersey officers have not been outdone 
 by any others in the qualities either of citizens or soldiers, and I 
 am confident no part of them would seriously intend anything 
 that would be a strain on their former reputation. 
 
 "The declaration they have made to the state at so critical 
 a time, that 'unless they obtain relief in the short period of three 
 days they must be considered out of the service/ has very much 
 the aspect of appearing to dictate terms to their country, by tak- 
 ing advantage of the necessity of the moment, and the seeming 
 relaxation of continuing until the state can have a reasonable
 
 70 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 time to provide other officers, will be thought only a superficial 
 veil." 
 
 This letter of the commander-in-chief, although it did not 
 cause the officers to recede from their claims, had the effect of 
 bringing them so far round as to continue in the service. In 
 an address to Washington they declared their unhappiness that 
 "any step of ours should give him pain," but alleged, in justifica- 
 tion of their action that repeated memorials which had been pre- 
 sented to the legislature had been ignored, and added : 
 
 "We have lost all confidence in that body. Reason and ex- 
 perience forbid that we should have any. Few of us have pri- 
 vate fortunes; many families are suffering everything that can 
 be received from an ungrateful country. Are we, then, to suffer 
 all the inconveniences, fatigues and dangers of a military life, 
 while our wives and our children are perishing for want of 
 common necessaries at home, and that without the most dis- 
 tant prospect of reward, for our pay is now only nominal ? 
 
 "We are sensible that your excellency cannot wish or desire 
 this from us. 
 
 "We are sorry that you should imagine we meant to dis- 
 obey orders. It was, and still is, our determination to march 
 with our regiment, and to do the duty of officers until the legis- 
 lature shall have a reasonable time to appoint others, but no 
 longer. 
 
 "We beg to assure your excellency that we have the highest 
 sense of your abilities and virtues ; that executing your orders has 
 ever given us pleasure; that we love the service, and we love 
 our country, but when that country is so lost to virtue and to 
 justice as to forget to support its servants, it then becomes their 
 duty to retire from its service." 
 
 The legislature, roused by this event, made some partial 
 provision for the troops. The officers withdrew their remon- 
 strance, and continued to do their whole duty until victory was 
 won until the war ended in 1783.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 
 
 SECOND MUTINY OF JERSEY BRIGADE. 
 
 THE condition of the Jersey brigade continued deplorable. 
 The officers, in rags, were so much ashamed of their uni- 
 forms, that they refused to attend social gatherings. They 
 not only lacked clothing, but suffered for the want of food; in 
 fact, many of the officers, like their families at home, were in a 
 starving condition. 
 
 While the officers were thus reduced, owing to the inability 
 of the legislature to keep its obligations, the condition of the rank 
 and file was a thousand times worse. The enlisted men suffered 
 so much for the want of the actual necessities of life that they 
 became unfit for active duty. Scarcely one of the men had shoes, 
 and most of them went about camp with their feet bandaged in 
 rags. Their nakedness, unhealthy food and want of sustenance 
 filled the hospitals, causing many deaths. 
 
 On the first of January, 1781, thirteen hundred Pennsylvania 
 troops, encamped near Princeton, paraded without officers, de- 
 claring their intention of returning home. Their contention was 
 that the term for which they had enlisted three years, or dur- 
 ing the war had expired. The officers insisted that the mean- 
 ing of the agreement was that they were to serve to the end of 
 the war. 
 
 The enlisted men took a contrary view, maintaining that 
 they had engaged to serve for three years only, or during the 
 war, if it should terminate before three years should elapse. 
 
 The Pennsylvanians, determined to obtain a redress of their 
 grievances, seized upon a battery of six field pieces, and at once 
 left camp for Princeton, where the legislature was in session. 
 
 General Anthony Wayne, a Pennsylvanian, in command of 
 the brigade, hearing of the revolt, mounted his horse and over- 
 took the mutineers, whom he commanded to halt. The men 
 refused to obey his orders, and wild with passion, the hero of 
 Stony Point placed himself in front of the column, and cocking 
 his two big horse pistols, and pointing them at the breasts of two 
 of the most active malcontents, threatened to fire unless they 
 countermarched to camp. 
 
 "Don't fire, general, or you are a dead man," shouted those 
 nearest to him. "We have ever loved and followed you, but can 
 do so no longer. We have been deceived by the authorities, and 
 will not submit to further impositions. We are not going over 
 to the enemy; on the contrary, were the British to appear now
 
 72 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 we would fight under your command with as much resolution 
 and cheerfulness as ever; but we wish to redress our grievances 
 and this is the time to do so." 
 
 General Wayne, who loved his men, seeing that coercion 
 would fail, appealed to the patriotism of the men, who consented 
 to put their demands in writing. They demanded an honorable 
 discharge of all who had served three years, immediate payment 
 of all the money due them, and that all future pay should be 
 made in real money to all who remained in the service. 
 
 A committee of congressmen, joined by the governor of 
 Pennsylvania, visited the camp of the Pennsylvanians, and made 
 an acceptable arrangement with them. 
 
 Washington, on learning of the revolt, took steps to quell 
 any further disturbance. He knew the troops had cause for dis- 
 content, and was disposed to deal as leniently as possible with 
 men who felt themselves driven to extremity, but he could not 
 allow further outbreaks, and with this in view, selected a choice 
 body of troops, which he held in readiness in the Short Hills tc 
 march at any moment. 
 
 This precaution on the the part of the commander-in-chief 
 was timely, as a few days later a portion of the Jersey brigade 
 encamped near Elizabethtown, rose in arms and boldly demanded 
 the terms granted to the dissatisfied Pennsylvanians. 
 
 Washington, who feared this disruption might lead to the 
 destruction or disbandment of his greatly reduced army, imme- 
 diately dispatched General Howe, with his chosen command, in 
 pursuit of the Jerseymen, with orders to crush the revolt by 
 force, unless the mutineers should at once yield unconditionally 
 and return to duty. 
 
 General Howe speedily overtook the malcontents, and threat- 
 ening to open upon them with artillery, brought them into sub- 
 mission. They had no alternative, so yielded without terms. 
 Two of the ring-leaders were tried by drum-head court-martial, 
 and promptly executed in the presence of all the troops. 
 
 This ended the revolt of the Jersey brigade.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 73 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF CHAPLAIN CALDWELL. 
 
 THE foul and utterly unprovoked murder of Rev. James Cald- 
 well, the most noted preacher-patriot in America during 
 the revolutionary war, occurred on the wharf at what is 
 now the foot of Elizabeth Avenue, Elizabethtown, on Saturday 
 afternoon, November 24, 1781, but little more than one year after 
 his angelic wife had been slain by a ruthless British soldier at 
 Connecticut Farms, now the village of Union. 
 
 James Caldwell was born in Virginia in April, 1734, his 
 father, of Scotch ancestry, having emigrated to this country 
 from County Antrim, Ireland. A daughter of Caldwell's brother 
 was the mother of John Caldwell Calhoun, South Carolina's 
 famous statesman. 
 
 Young Caldwell graduated from the College of New Jersey 
 (now Princeton University) in September, 1759, and next year 
 was licensed to preach, being assigned a circuit in the southern 
 states, including the Carolinas. In November, 1761, at the age 
 of 27 years, he accepted the pastorate of the First Presbyterian 
 Church in Elizabethtown, with an annual salary of $800. One 
 year after settling there he married Hannah, daughter of John 
 Ogden, great-grandson of John Ogden, one of the first settlers. 
 
 When the war for liberty and independence was precipitated. 
 Parson Caldwell took a leading part in arousing people to a 
 sense of duty, and in all his prayers, and often in his sermons and 
 exhortations, called upon the people to rise and strike a blow 
 that would make them freemen. The most prominent men in 
 the state lived in Elizabethtown and attended service at the First 
 Church, and the seed he implanted by his fervor and eloquence 
 fell upon good ground, producing most excellent results. 
 
 From among his parishioners went forth to the patriot army 
 no less than 40 commissioned officers, six of whom attained the 
 rank of general ; 5 became colonels. 
 
 In May, 1776, Mr. Caldwell accepted the chaplaincy of 
 Colonel Elias Dayton's Third Regiment, and accompanied 
 the command on its long and trying march to reinforce the 
 northern army, then besieging Quebec. 
 
 Besides attending to the spiritual wants of the men of the 
 entire Jersey brigade, which he never neglected, Parson Caldwell 
 was frequently called upon to act as assistant commissary general 
 of the brigade. The duties of this office were to provide the 
 men with food no easy task in those days.
 
 74 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 With one exception Governor Livingston, one of his con- 
 gregation Parson Caldwell was more bitterly hated by the Bri- 
 tish and their tory allies than any man in New Jersey. On the 
 other hand, he was loved by all soldiers and patriots with whom 
 he came in personal or official contact, and enjoyed the fullest 
 respect and confidence of all the officers, from Washington down. 
 
 Chaplain Caldwell was noted for bravery and zeal as well as 
 piety, and never hesitated in the performance of any duty. At 
 the battle of Springfield, June 23, 1780, 16 days after the cold- 
 blooded murder of the mother of his children by a fiendish British 
 soldier, learning that the soldiers of his regiment needed wadding 
 for their muskets, he made his way through a line of the enemy's 
 fire to the church in the village beyond, and thinking of nothing 
 better or more available entered the sanctuary and gathering a 
 number of hymn-books, hastened back to the firing-line, and 
 distributing the little volumes, bade the boys "Give them Watts." 
 If he intended any stronger expression under the circumstances, 
 as he very likely did, he restrained it. 
 
 It is sad to relate the fate that befell this sterling patriot 
 and eloquent Christian minister, just at a time when he had every 
 reason to look forward to a long and happy life, the war being 
 virtually over. 
 
 On the afternoon of Saturday, November 24, 1781, Chaplain 
 Caldwell drove down to the "Point," as the lower part of the 
 town was then called, to meet Beulah Murray, sister of Mrs. 
 Ichabod Barnet, and escort her to the latter's home. Miss Mur- 
 ray came over from New York on the flag-of -truce boat, which 
 plied between the two places. The vessel having reached the 
 wharf before the arrival of Mr. Caldwell at the station, the young 
 woman disembarked and securing a conveyance, proceeded on^ 
 her way. 
 
 Major John Scudder, commanding the provost-guard at the 
 ferry, who was on the sloop when the chaplain reached the dock 
 being weil acquainted with the latter, invited him to board the 
 vessel. Mr. Caldwell, supposing Miss Murray to be on the craft, 
 stepped on the dock to greet her, but on learning the young lady 
 had taken her departure, excused himself to the major, and was 
 in the act of leaving the vessel when one of the sailors asked hirr 
 to take a small parcel, tied in a handkerchief, to a friend in town. 
 The kind-hearted parson, whose chief happiness was in doing 
 good and making other people happy, said it would be a pleasure 
 to deliver the package as requested, and receiving the sailor's 
 thanks for the kindness, descended from the sloop's deck to the
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 75 
 
 wharf, and, reaching his vehicle, was in the act of driving away, 
 when a soldier named James Morgan stepped up to him and 
 rudely said : "I want to see what ye have got in that bundle." 
 
 Mr. Caldwell, not liking the soldier's looks or his language, 
 and having no disposition to bandy words with the fellow, asked 
 if he might be permitted to return the bundle to the person from 
 whom he had received it. 
 
 Morgan, in a husky voice, gave his consent, whereupon the 
 chaplain took the package from the box in the buggy, and was 
 proceeding to the boat when Morgan, with musket raised, ran up 
 to within two or three yards of him and fiercely yelled, "Damn 
 you, stop." 
 
 Parson Caldwell, surprised at the rude demand, instantly 
 halted, and before he could turn his face to see what the demand 
 meant, Morgan leveled his weapon to point blank, and sent a 
 bullet crashing through the parson's body. He expired instantly. 
 
 The murderer was at once secured by Lieutenant Woodruff 
 who happened to be near at the moment. The body of the dead 
 chaplain was tenderly removed to the public hostelry (where 
 afterwards stood the "Red Jacket" Hotel, Elizabeth Avenue and 
 South Front Street), and late in the afternoon was brought up 
 town, a mournful procession following the rude ambulance up 
 First Avenue, Elizabeth Avenue, Broad Street, and down East 
 Jersey Street to the large building now known as the Old Ladies' 
 Home. 
 
 Next day was the saddest Sunday the people of the town 
 ever experienced, all hearts appearing to be crushed under the 
 awful calamity. 
 
 The entire population, without regard to creed, color or con- 
 dition, assembled on Tuesday to pay the last tribute to the mar- 
 tyred patriot, whose mortality was exposed to view on the lawn 
 in front of the mansion. Strong-minded men wept in their deep 
 sorrow, while the air was rent with the wailing of tear-bedimmed 
 women. 
 
 At ' the conclusion of the sad but impressive service, per- 
 formed by Rev. Dr. McWhorter, of Newark, an intimate friend of 
 the late chaplain, the plain wooden coffin was closed, and General 
 Elias Boudinot stepped forward, leading the nine orphan children 
 of the deceased, and after causing them to surround the silent 
 dead, delivered an oration of sublime eloquence. 
 
 A procession was then formed, the mournful cortege moving 
 slowly up Jersey Street and down Broad to the First Church 
 where all that was mortal of Chaplain Caldwell was laid at rest
 
 76 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 beside his sainted wife, amid tears of the surrounding multitude. 
 
 What induced Morgan to commit the foul and unnatural 
 crime was never ascertained. At his trial in Westfield, January 
 21, 1782, two months after the murder, he sturdily maintained 
 stoical indifference, even refusing to confer with his counsel. 
 Captain William De Hart, who had been assigned to defend him 
 Morgan was found guilty, and eight days later executed on a 
 tree on the highest point of ground north of the village. He 
 bore a bad reputation, and was noted for his quarrelsome dispo- 
 sition. He had joined the army but a few weeks previous to 
 his crime, and shirked all the duty possible. The New Jersey 
 Journal, four days after the murder, stated that "Morgan had 
 been to New York City without leave a fortnight before the 
 assassination, and there are just grounds for suspecting that he 
 had been bribed by the British or the tories of that city, which 
 was never patriotic, to commit the abominable crime." 
 
 Morgan was 22 years old and unmarried. His body was 
 allowed to swing upon the tree until midnight, when Sheriff 
 Noah Marsh and two assistants (sworn to secrecy) buried it 
 deep, but just where was never revealed. 
 
 MURDER OF THE SAINTED MRS. CALDWELL. 
 
 1COPY from the New Jersey Gazette (the first paper estab- 
 lished in this state), printed at Burlington, the following 
 
 interesting particulars relating to Knyphausen's bloody raid 
 on the seventh of June, 1780, to Connecticut Farms, the cruel 
 murder of the angelic Mrs. Caldwell, the burning of her home, 
 her rude burial, the battle that ensued, the burning of the village, 
 and the hasty and disorderly retreat of the enemy back to this 
 town, the most lucid and detailed account of the affair I have 
 ever seen in print: 
 
 "(Extract of letter from an intelligent gentleman in the 
 neighborhood of Morristown, June 9, 1780) : 
 
 "Although extremely fatigued I catch a moment to inform 
 you that I have just returned from Elizabethtown, where I have 
 been reconnoitering the enemy's situation and strength. 
 
 "To give you any tolerable idea of their ravages and cruelty 
 is beyond my descriptive abilities. They came out in force on 
 Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, and landed in Elizabeth 
 before day. Most observers differ in their account of their 
 numbers. From my own observations I suppose them about
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 77 
 
 5,000, with 17 pieces of artillery, and every preparation for a. 
 lengthy march. 
 
 "They advanced to Connecticut Farms, about five miles dis- 
 tant, very early in the morning of Wednesday, and altho' they 
 observed great discipline and decorum in Elizabethtown, yet at 
 the Farms every step was marked with wanton cruelty and cause- 
 less devastation. They set fire to and entirely destroyed the 
 Presbyterian Church and fourteen dwelling houses and barns, so 
 that there are (I think) but two dwelling houses remaining in- 
 that fertile settlement. But, alas sir, this is only one part of the 
 horrid scene! 
 
 "In this neighborhood lived the Rev. James Caldwell, whose 
 zeal and activity in the cause of his country had rendered him an 
 object worthy of the enemy's keenest resentment. 
 
 "His vigilance and attention had always evaded every at- 
 tempt to injure him, and therefore it was now determined to 
 wound him in an unguarded spot ; following the absurd principles 
 of too many of our incautious countrymen, he left his wife and 
 family at home, trusting to the politeness and humanity of the- 
 enemy toward an amiable woman and a number of helpless and 
 innocent children, tho' he did not think it prudent to trust them 
 with his own safety. He had been warned of their utmost hatred 
 to him, and therefore dissuaded him from leaving his family in 
 their power ; but, alas, his confidence in their benevolence towards 
 the helpless has been his destruction. 
 
 "Soon after possessing themselves of the neighborhood, a 
 soldier came to the house, and putting his gun to the window of 
 the room where this worthy woman was sitting (with her children 
 and a maid with an infant in her arms alongside of her), he shot 
 her through the lungs dead on the spot. Soon after an officer 
 and two Hessians came in and ordered a hole dug and her body 
 thrown in, and the house to be set on fire. 
 
 "At the request of an officer of the new levies, and with 
 some difficulty, the body was suffered to be carried to a small 
 house in the neighborhood, and Mr. Caldwell's dwelling house 
 immediately set on fire, and everything belonging to him con- 
 sumed together. The only comfort coming to this afflicted family 
 is that the wretch who served as the executioner of this murdered 
 lady (who from her excellent character deservd a better fate) 
 did his business so effectually that she lost her life without dis- 
 tress or pain. Thus it is, that even the tender mercies of the 
 wicked are cruelty. This melancholy affair, with their cruel burn- 
 ings, has raised the resentment of the whole country to the high-
 
 78 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 est pitch. They are ready almost to swear an everlasting enmity 
 to the very name of Briton. So far is this cruelty and devasta- 
 tion terrifying to submission that it drives the most timid to feats 
 of desperate heroism. 
 
 "A most worthy man, who has for more than four years past 
 devoted himself to the service of his country, is thus left with nine 
 small children, destitute of even a shift of clothes to comfort 
 them. Many of the inhabitants are in a similar situation; some 
 widows, some aged, some infirm. 
 
 "So many have suffered, and are daily suffering, among us, 
 that it is impossible anything considerable can be done for their 
 present necessities. Shall I beg in behalf of these worthy, tho' 
 unfortunate fellow citizens, suffering in the common cause, that 
 you will exert yourself among your acquaintances to afford 
 them so relief? The difficulty of obtaining linen, clothes, etc.. 
 tc., is unsurmountable among us. A small pittance saved from 
 your luxuries will rejoice the hearts of our desponding brethren, 
 and engage others to step forth with firmness to oppose the foes 
 of America and mankind. 
 
 "It moves the heart of the brave and venturous citizen to 
 behold the piteous, heart-rending sufferings of the widows, chil- 
 dren and dependents of those who have nobly fought the battles 
 of our country, and bled in her righteous cause, while those who 
 fly from the appearances of danger are rioting on the spoils of 
 those who bear the heat and burden of the day. 
 
 "I know your generous heart will bear a part with the afflic- 
 tions of every sufferer in so glorious a cause, and your benevolent 
 hands will be ready to exert themselves to obtain the relief that 
 may be in your power. 
 
 "But to return : The enemy being opposed by a regiment of 
 Colonel Dayton's, and such militia as could be suddenly collected 
 made a slow advance till they came to a bridge at the entrance 
 of Springfield, where the militia had an old iron 4-pounder field- 
 piece, which they used to such purpose that the enemy were 
 driven back for some considerable distance. Being thus encour- 
 aged, Colonel Dayton's regiment, and the militia together, pressed 
 upon them and killed and wounded many of them; the general 
 estimate is about 100. As our people were reinforced they 
 gained firmness, and at night the enemy had reached no further 
 than Connecticut Farms. 
 
 "In the night, having received an express from General Gin- 
 ton in North Carolina, they immediately began a retreat, and by 
 ten o'clock on Thursday they had gained Elizabethtown Point,
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 79 
 
 from whence they sent off all their wagons, a part of their artil- 
 lery and some of their cavalry. Previous to this, Lord Stirling, 
 with General Hand's brigade and the militia, was detached close 
 on their rear, and between Elizabethtown and the Point had a 
 very severe skirmish some loss on both sides. Never did trooj;- 
 behave better than ours. The militia behaved beyond anything 
 that could have been expected. The Continental officers gave 
 them the greatest credit. It is said the enemy had been persuaded 
 that after the taking of Charleston the militia would submit 
 and the Continental troops would desert. It seems as if the mili- 
 tia had known these suggestions. Never did they so Universally 
 turn out on such short notice, and never with better spirits. I 
 left this morning at least 2,000 of them below the mountains, 
 and more flocking down continually. Colonel Dayton deserves 
 the greatest credit, as does all his officers, who behaved unex- 
 ceptionably. 
 
 "The enemy were all day yesterday manouvering to bring 
 on a general engagement, and General Washington trying to 
 draw them from their possession on the Point, where it was 
 impossible to attack them to advantage. Both have failed, and 
 General Washington hath drawn back the main body of his army 
 above Springfield to refresh them, as they were exceedingly 
 fatigued with two days and two nights lying on their arms. 
 Everything has been carried on with great propriety, and we 
 are in hopes the gentry will be obliged to retire notwithstanding 
 their sanguine expectations. General Knyphausen. it is said, 
 brought over his carriage, expecting to have comfortable use for 
 it. They are in such force that I am clear of opinion they intended 
 to penetrate the country, and from some hints they have dropped, 
 they have Pennsylvania in their eye, if they can beat General 
 Washington. 
 
 "I would give more particulars, but I am wearied beyond 
 measure with the fatigue of three days' ride, and no rest at night, 
 and I write in pain. 
 
 "P. S. I forgot to mention a circumstance relative to Mrs. 
 Caldwell's death that is very striking. Some of the soldiers 
 attacked a young lady about three miles from Mr. Caldwell's 
 home, and one of them, presenting a fixed bayonet at her breast, 
 swore he would kill her, for that she was the wife of Mr. Cald- 
 well. He was with difficulty prevented from putting his threats 
 into execution by a young officer who knew the lady, and swore 
 to him that she was not the wife of Mr. Caldwell. This was 
 previous to her murder. And on their retreat from Connecticut
 
 80 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Farms, a soldier bragged at Elizabethtown that he had shot this 
 unhappy lady. 
 
 ATTEMPTED CAPTURE OF BRITISH CROWN PRINCE, 
 
 DURING the American Revolution there was no more pa- 
 triotic or daring soldier in New Jersey than Colonel 
 Matthias Ogden, who had a close rival in his only brother. 
 Colonel Aaron Ogden, after the war governor and United 
 States senator. In these days of commercialism and greed it 
 may not be amiss to revert to the days that tried men's souls 
 while laboring to establish liberty and independence for the peo- 
 ple of thio and other lands. 
 
 Colonel Matthias Ogden distinguished himself on many occa- 
 sions during the revolution, but in no instance did he show greater 
 bravery than when, with a few chosen companions, he attempted 
 to capture the Crown Prince of England, afterwards King Wil- 
 liam IV., in New York City. The young man, a son of George 
 III., when fourteen years old, was appointed a midshipman in 
 the British navy, and to acquire knowledge of the sea and distant 
 lands accompanied Admiral Digby to this country. Admiral 
 Digby's fleet reached New York City in 1779, and remained there 
 some months. 
 
 The Crown Prince, who was of lively disposition, and al- 
 lowed to have his own way in pretty much everything, was ashore 
 most of the time, having a good time with boon companions of 
 both sexes. He went about unattended by pomp, display or 
 guard, and was prodigal in the use of money, with which he was 
 ever well provided. 
 
 Late in the summer it occurred to Colonel Ogden that it 
 might be possible to effect the capture of England's future ruler, 
 and bring him to New Jersey as a hostage. The British and tories 
 on Staten Island, having made repeated raids to this town while 
 the Jersey brigade was absent in the Indian country (Wyoming 
 Valley) inflicting great damage to property and carrying away 
 defenceless citizens as prisoners, among whom were some friends 
 of Colonel Ogden, he matured a plan for the capture of the 
 Crown Prince, and submitted it to General Washington, in camp 
 at New Windsor on the Hudson River. 
 
 "I do not altogether favor such a mode of warfare," said 
 Washington, after hearing Colonel Ogden reveal his intentions, 
 "but it will give you a little diversion and may prove of some
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 81 
 
 value to the cause. You have my permission to engage in the 
 enterprise, but if you succeed in capturing the young man you 
 must treat him with all the deference due his great rank. I can- 
 not but impress upon you the necessity of extreme caution if you 
 would escape the fate of Nathan Hale." 
 
 Armed with this permission and overjoyed at the result of 
 his interview with the commander-in-chief, Colonel Ogden made 
 his way back to this town, and at once selected the men who were 
 to compose the expedition. 
 
 Colonel Ogden picked four men from his regiment who had 
 often gone through fire with him, and on whom he could place 
 the utmost dependence, and early in the fall made his way to 
 Paulus Hook (now Jersey City), where a skiff, admirably suited 
 to his purpose, was found and appropriated. The weather con- 
 ditions postponing the crossing of the Hudson for two nights, a 
 start was finally made. Evading vessels lying at anchor, Colonel 
 Ogden and his little party had nearly reached the New York side, 
 and were congratulating themselves on the almost absolute cer- 
 tainty of success, when they were suddenly hailed from a large 
 launch filled with soldiers in the act of putting off from a dock 
 near the Battery. 
 
 Taken thus wholly unawares, and unprepared to return a 
 satisfactory answer to the challenge, Colonel Ogden quickly 
 sheered off and rowed up the river on a flood tide, a shower of 
 leaden messengers following. Finding himself pursued, Colonel 
 Ogden, at the tiller, encouraged his crew to make every exertion 
 to outdistance those in pursuit if they would not "have hemp 
 for breakfast." The colonel, as his craft proceeded up the river, 
 looked everywhere along the shore for a safe place of refuge, and 
 finding none owing to the alarm that had been given when first 
 discovered, headed his boat for the Jersey shore, and finally suc- 
 ceeded in reaching the ground now occupied by the city of Ho- 
 boken, where he and his men landed safely under a fire which 
 the American outpost there directed against the approaching 
 British boats that had closely followed in pursuit. 
 
 Colonel Ogden's spirited adventure formed an interesting 
 theme in camp and bivouac for months afterwards, some joking 
 at the expense of the colonel being indulged in. 
 
 When intelligence of Colonel Ogden's undertaking reached 
 the notorious Hetfield brothers (natives of Elizabethtown, but for 
 several years past refugees on Staten Island), they declared 
 they would return the American colonel's compliment by captur- 
 ing him at the first opportunity. Those who knew the character
 
 S2 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 and desperate daring of the Hetfields had no doubt they would 
 carry out their intention. The Hetfields possessed an intimate 
 knowledge of the topography of this section and knew every nook 
 and crook, as well as every family in what is now circumscribed 
 by the bounds of Union County. The night set for the accom- 
 plishment of their fell purpose Saturday, November 4, 1780 
 having rolled round, the Hetfields and other wild and adventurous 
 spirits crossed the sound from Staten Island, and procuring horses 
 on this side, dashed into this town and reached the homes of 
 Colonel Ogden and Captain Jonathan Dayton before an alarm 
 could be raised. 
 
 Foiled by the absence of the two officers from their homes 
 that night, the Hetfields learned they were at the home of William 
 Herd, at Connecticut Farms, and at once proceeded thither with 
 all possible speed, fearing their retreat would be cut off. The 
 raiders, on reaching Mr. Herd's, surrounded his house, and 
 bursting in the doors, demanded the surrender of its inmates. 
 Resistance under such circumstances being futile, Ogden and 
 Dayton, thus ruthlessly awaken from sleep, gave up. Allowed to 
 make their toilet, they were bound and gagged, and then com- 
 pelled to see the raiders partake of a repast which they compelled 
 Mrs. Herd to provide for them. The good woman consumed as 
 much time as possible in preparing savory dishes, hoping mean- 
 time for the arrival of a rescue party, which, however, failed to 
 materialize, much as it was desired. 
 
 The raiders had great sport in compelling "Pomp," an aged 
 slave, to serve them with apple whisky of delightful flavor, on 
 which Mr. Herd and his friends often doted. Having thus re- 
 freshed themselves, and accomplished the object of their under- 
 taking, the raiders seized two of Mr. Herd's best horses, on 
 which they mounted the two prisoners, then set out on their home- 
 ward journey, via Galloping Hill, reaching the sound near Trem- 
 ley at daybreak and crossing the water in safety. 
 
 At the close of the war, General Ogden, on the recommen- 
 dation of Washington to Congress, was sent to the court of St. 
 James with important communications. He died in Elizabeth at 
 the early age of thirty-six years. 
 
 He sleeps beside the entombed mortality of his brother. 
 Colonel Aaron Ogden, Colonel Francis Barber, General Dayton 
 and other immortals.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 83 
 
 SANS PEUR ET SANS REPROCHE. 
 
 I HAVE no intention in this sketch of one of New Jersey's fore- 
 most and brilliant soldiers of the American Revolution to 
 
 bore the reader with prosy history, but simply to narrate 
 exciting- incidents in the career of Lieutenant Colonel Francis 
 Barber, of Elizabethtown, who was throughout the contest very 
 close to Washington, serving at times upon his military staff. 
 Some of the incidents narrated to me by Mrs. Mary Chetwood, 
 of Elizabeth, a granddaughter of Colonel Barber, and Colonel 
 Aaron Ogden, have .never before found their way in print. 
 
 Elizabethtown, during the war for independence and liberty : 
 was celebrated for the patriotism, culture and wealth of its peo- 
 ple, as well as for the number of its citizens distinguished on 
 forum and in the field. Among the famous men of the country 
 at that time was Francis Barber, who, at the age of 18 years, 
 was placed in charge of the only grammar school in the colony 
 having as pupils young men who shortly after rose to national 
 prominence. Among Mr. Barber's scholars was Alexander Ham- 
 ilton, of illegitimate parentage, and a native of an island in the 
 West Indies, who, at the age of 14 years, landed in New York 
 City. It was at Mr. Barber's school that young Hamilton first 
 met the brilliant and patriotic Aaron Burr, of Newark, for whom 
 he conceived a bitter dislike. 
 
 Francis Barber cast books and ferule aside on learning of 
 the shot at Lexington, whose reverberations went rolling around 
 the world, and promptly devoted himself to the enrollment of 
 his neighbors and friends to resist to the death the aggressions of 
 the Briton. 
 
 Young Barber, actuated by the holiest of motives, and a sin- 
 cere desire to serve his bleeding country, made numerous ad- 
 dresses in and about his home, his eloquent words stirring his 
 hearers to profound depths of patriotism and effort. A regiment, 
 quickly organized in the town, was not called for by Congress 
 for active service until the latter part of 1775. Young Barber, 
 a first lieutenant in the First Regiment, was one of the small 
 party of hardy young men belonging to that command that went 
 in boats from Elizabethtown to Amboy, to capture the Blue 
 Mountain Valley, a large British supply ship from London on 
 its way to Boston, but which, owing to a storm in January, 1776, 
 had been compelled to put into Prince's Bay for safety. The 
 capture of the vessel, which was a valuable possession, produced 
 great excitement wherever the news was spread.
 
 84 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 In March, 1776, Congress appointed Lieutenant Barber ma- 
 jor of the Third Regiment, and later on he was promoted to the 
 rank of lieutenant-colonel, the highest grade he reached. 
 
 Colonel Barber's knowledge of military affairs, quickly ac- 
 quired, together with the dashing bravery he displayed in numer- 
 ous engagements from Brandywine to Yorktown, where General 
 Lafayette (on whose staff he was serving) exchanged swords 
 with him, won for him the cheerful obedience and admiration of 
 his troops, as well as the confidence of his superiors, who on 
 more than one occasion commended his gallantry. 
 
 Colonel Barber was desperately wounded on three distinct 
 occasions Monmouth, Newton and Yorktown in each of which 
 he exhibited the rarest heroism. It was at Brandywine, while 
 fiercely striving to save from capture the six beautiful guns 
 taken by Washington from the Hessians at Trenton, that Colonel 
 Barber established a reputation for fearlessness that gained for 
 him encomiums from the commander-in-chief, under whose eyes 
 he performed prodigies of valor. 
 
 But it was at Monmouth, one of New Jersey's most note- 
 worthy battlefields (where Colonel Barber acted as aide-de-camp 
 to Washington), while leading a charge at a critical moment, 
 that he delivered a shock to the trained British host that was like 
 a falling mountain. Amid the roar of artillery and volleys of 
 small arms, Colonel Barber's plume, like that of the Knight of 
 Navarre, glared everywhere through the smoke of battle. He 
 raged that hot day in June like an unloosed lion, amid the foe, and 
 his bright eyes, always terrible in battle, burned with increased 
 lustre, while his clarion voice, heard above the awful turmoil of 
 battle strife, was worth more than a hundred trumpets to cheer 
 on his faithful and enthusiastic followers. Colonel Barber was 
 a thunderbolt in battle, and the deeds wrought by him during 
 the long seven years of active service might well furnish themes 
 for the poet and the painter. 
 
 "It was an inspiring sight," chronicles a historian of those 
 days, "to see Colonel Barber, whose whole soul was ever in the 
 deadly work, leading on his brave townsmen and friends, eager 
 as they were for the fray. His lithe yet manly form was ever 
 in the thickest of the contest. He ever set an example to all 
 about him, displaying a stoical disregard of death, despite repeated 
 wounds and the sanguinary harvest which Death reaped about 
 him." 
 
 In 1779 Colonel Barber accompanied the Jersey Brigade, then 
 consisting of Colonel Israel Shreve's Second New Jersey, Colo-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 85 
 
 nel Elias Dayton's Third New Jersey, Colonel David Forman's 
 Regiment of Jerseymen and Marylanders, Colonel Elisha Shel- 
 don's (Connecticut) Regiment of Dragoons, and a battery of 
 light artillery, from Elizabethtown to the Wyoming Valley in 
 northeastern Pennsylvania, to punish the Six Nation Confederacy 
 of Indian Savages for the foul outrages committed by them the 
 previous year on soldiers and peaceful settlers. 
 
 It is not my purpose to give an account of the long and 
 fatiguing march (beside which Sherman's promenade from At- 
 lanta to the sea was a pleasure excursion) our brave Jersey Blues 
 made on that occasion through an interminable wilderness, often 
 finding it necessary to hew a way with axes through dense for- 
 ests, but to recite a thrilling incident witnessed with horror by 
 the entire expeditionary force at the perilous crossing of the 
 romantic, wild and turbulent Susquehanna River, near where 
 Wilkes-Barre now stands. 
 
 It was in this rapidly coursing flood that Colonel Barber 
 narrowly escaped a watery grave. A young lad from Newark 
 belonging to the Third Regiment, unable to maintain his footing 
 in the flowing waters, having been separated from his companions 
 (who held each other by the hand as they waded across up to 
 armpits), was carried swiftly away by the rapid current, when 
 an alarm was shouted. Colonel Barber, mounted on a superb 
 horse, being near at hand, superintending the movement, hearing 
 agonizing cries, and seeing the imminent danger of the young 
 soldier, spurred his swimming animal toward the drowning boy. 
 who often disappeared from sight, and by dint of great exertion 
 succeeded in reaching him in the nick of time. The soldier at 
 once, by direction of the colonel, seized a stirrup, holding fast 
 with death-like grip. To keep his head out of water, Colonel 
 Barber, in his efforts to draw the lad out of the raging flood, lost 
 his balance, and falling from his horse, was rapidly borne down 
 stream. 
 
 Yells of horror and scenes of indescribable confusion among 
 all who witnessed the colonel's peril followed. Those on the 
 shores became frantic, especially when the hero disappeared for a 
 time under the waters owing to his inability to gain a footing, so 
 swift and strong was the current. Meantime a number of 
 mounted officers put out from the shores to effect the rescue of a 
 companion who was justly regarded as every man's friend and 
 the idol oi the brigade. Three of the horsemen, after great diffi- 
 culty, managed to reach the drowning colonel, who, encumbered 
 with a heavy sword, was unable to assist himself, and saved him 
 from a cruel fate.
 
 86 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 The woods lining the shores, which had heretofore only re- 
 sounded to the songs of birds and the blood-curdling yells of 
 savages, rang with such cheers as only American soldiers can 
 give, when they saw the gallant and almost unconscious colonel 
 delivered from a perilous situation. The colonel's horse, to which 
 the brave Newark lad had clung with tenacity, reached the shore 
 in safety with his burden, greatly to the satisfaction of Colonel 
 Barber, who highly prized the noble animal. 
 
 Colonel Barber, who had long enjoyed the confidence of 
 Washington, was senior aide-de-camp to General Lafayette at 
 Yorktown, and to partially reward him for his many acts of 
 bravery the commander-in-chief designated him to command and 
 lead the charging column in the last general engagement of the 
 war. No sooner did Alexander Hamilton, Barber's former pupil 
 learn of this determination on the part of Washington than he 
 went directly to the commander-in-chief and violently remon- 
 strated against the detail. He went so far as to threaten to resign 
 his commission unless the order was countermanded and he given 
 command of the advance column. Although Hamilton had never 
 had direct command of troops, nor led in any battle, being sim- 
 ply a sort of military clerk to the commander-in-chief, Washing- 
 ton was compelled to do an act of great injustice to Colonel Bar- 
 ber, which he ever after regretted. 
 
 Although bereft of a duty, which he had not solicited but 
 which he would gladly have performed, Colonel Barber had in- 
 tense satisfaction in entering the enemy's works by the side of 
 his beloved chieftain, Lafayette, in advance of the troops directed 
 by Hamilton, and although he received a ghastly wound while 
 endeavoring to wrest a standard from a British color-bearer, he 
 felt amply repaid by the compliments paid him in Washington's 
 congratulatory order, and in exchanging swords with General 
 Lafayette, his immediate commander, who expressed a desire to 
 carry back to France a weapon that so often and so gloriously 
 flashed in battle. Colonel Barber's sword is in France, while the 
 elegant and costly blade worn by the French patriot may be seen 
 to-day at the rooms of the New York Historical Society at 
 Newburg. 
 
 It is sad to reflect that Colonel Barber, after many vicissi- 
 tudes and manifold dangers, often lying close to death's door, 
 should end his brilliant career of usefulness to his country by 
 being accidentally killed. 
 
 Washington, surrounded by most of his officers that day, 
 was in a very happy frame of mind, having received intelligence
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 87 
 
 that a treaty of peace had been signed by the mother country. 
 He had ordered an elaborate dinner in celebration of the event, 
 and all were about to partake of the feast when Washington re- 
 ceived an important dispatch requiring prompt action. This he 
 committed to Colonel Barber for delivery. The latter, like the 
 faithful soldier he had ever proved, mounted and dashed away 
 and in passing through a woods, half a mile from camp, he and 
 his horse were crushed by a falling tree, which at that moment 
 soldiers had felled for firewood. The soldiers, horror-stricken, 
 rushed to the spot, but the colonel and his animal, impaled, were 
 dead, having been instantly deprived of life. 
 
 When the sad intelligence was borne to Washington, he- 
 rose from the table, deeply affected, saying: "Men of higher 
 rank and more wealth may die, but there is but one Francis- 
 Barber." 
 
 In closing my sketch, I will add the following story relating; 
 to Colonel Barber's family, narrated to me by Mrs. Chetwood: 
 
 "During the revolution, Mrs. Francis Barber, my grand- 
 mother, was, with her children, George and Mary, sitting in her 
 apartment on the ground floor of the stone house, built in 1759 
 by her father, in Elizabeth Avenue, below Spring Street, and still 
 standing, when a party of British soldiers rudely entered either 
 for murder or plunder, or both. They were boisterous, and paid 
 no heed to the remonstrances of my grandmother. 
 
 "When the soldiers at last tumultuously entered the drawing- 
 room, expecting to enrich themselves, they came to a sudden halt. 
 They had made an unexpected discovery no less than a superb 
 painting, representing General Wolfe at the battle of Quebec 
 executed in a large panel over the great open fireplace. The 
 raiders no sooner beheld the picture than, intoxicated and hilari- 
 ous as they were, they doffed their hats, made rough attempts to 
 straighten up and salute the object of their adoration, and im- 
 mediately withdrew from the apartment and from the house. 
 My grandmother often said she was firm in her conviction that 
 she and her children were indebted for their lives and the preser- 
 vation of her property to the effect the painting of the gallant 
 British officer had on the mob."
 
 "88 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 HEARD COLONEL BURR TELL THRILLING STORIES. 
 
 NO town in New Jersey is richer in Revolutionary lore than 
 Elizabeth, which furnished more men for Washington's 
 army than any other locality in the colony. No other 
 town in New Jersey was so beset by the enemy during the eight 
 years' struggle, and no community made greater sacrifices of 
 blood and treasure. Elizabeth enjoys the distinction of having 
 furnished more commissioned officers than any other town, the 
 most daring and distinguished men having their homes there 
 when the war broke out. Some of them rose to national promS 
 nence in field and forum. 
 
 Quite a number of the lineal descendants of these heroes and 
 statesmen are still living in Elizabeth, notably Mrs. Mary Chet- 
 wood, still hale and hearty at the age of 90 years. Mrs. Chet- 
 wood, widow of John Chetwood, born here in 1817, is a grand- 
 daughter of Colonel Aaron Ogden and Colonel Francis Barber. 
 
 In a recent intensely interesting conversation with Mrs. 
 Chetwood she narrated many personal recollections of General 
 Lafayette, Colonel Aaron Burr and other noted heroes of the 
 war for independence. 
 
 "I am glad to know," said this pariotic and most amiable 
 lady to me, "that you are an admirer of Colonel Burr, whom 
 I repeatedly met and conversed with at the home of Colonel 
 Aaron Ogden, my grandfather. No American was ever more 
 foully aspersed than he. I never saw a more unselfish char- 
 acter, and never talked with such a brilliant conversationalist. 
 No one who ever looked into his keen, black, luminous eyes, 
 could forget them. I was in my early childhood when first 
 presented to Colonel Burr at my grandfather's home, and was 
 so fascinated with his appearance that I could scarcely withdraw 
 my gaze. Perhaps he noticed this, as directly he made his way 
 across the great drawing room and asked me in a silver-toned 
 voice if I played on the piano. When I told him I did not, 
 he smiled sweetly and remarked: 'It is as well; you will have 
 more time to improve your mind.' 
 
 "Colonel Burr, my grandfather and his brother, General 
 Matthias Ogden, were bosom friends, almost inseparable, and 
 of about the same age, 19 years, when the war broke out. Gen- 
 eral Ogden was two years their senior. The intimacy and 
 burning love existing between the three was formed at the home
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 89 
 
 of Colonel Burr's uncle, Timothy Edwards (son of President 
 Edwards, of Princeton College), who had married Rhoda Ogden, 
 daughter of Robert Ogden, and a sister of Matthias and Aaron. 
 Colonel Burr's mother was a daughter of President Edwards. 
 
 "Colonel Burr's parents dying when he was 5 years old, he 
 and his sister made their home with their uncle, Timothy. Young 
 Burr inherited a considerable estate, which allowed him the 
 privilege of living and regulating his conduct according to the 
 bent of his own inclinations. Burr's grief at the loss of his 
 parents, to whom he was devotedly attached, seems to have com- 
 pletely changed his character, and historians, taking advantage 
 of this, have been very hard on him, painting him in the blackest 
 colors. Some writers in aspersing his character, have gone so 
 far as to say that Colonel Burr died unbefriended, and his place 
 of 'sepulchre is unknown.' 
 
 "I never understood why so-called historians wrote so ven- 
 omously of a man who had faithfully and brilliantly served his 
 country on its battlefields. Colonel Burr died at a pleasant 
 home on Staten Island, his bedside surrounded by sorrowing 
 relatives and friends. His mortality was interred at Princeton, 
 near the happy scenes of his college days. Some of the rela- 
 tives present at the obsequies were Pierrepont Edwards, son of 
 the distinguished Jonathan Edwards. Pierrepont Edwards and 
 Colonel Burr's mother were descendants of Colonel Burr's uncle, 
 brother and sister. Mrs. Lily Devereaux Blake's mother was 
 a daughter of Pierrepont Edwards. Ogden Edwards, who long 
 lived on North Broad Street, this city, and died there, was a 
 great-grandson. His family still lives there. 
 
 "Ogden Edwards at one time possessed an oil painting of 
 Theodosia Burr (Mrs. Alston), Colonel Burr's only daughter. 
 It hung in the parlor for many years, where I frequently admired 
 it. One night the house was entered and the canvas cut from 
 the frame and carried away. The painting could never be 
 traced, and a fine work of art, together with the picture of a 
 lovely and fascinating woman, whose fate was melancholy, 
 was thus forever lost. Theodosia Burr, in both girlhood and 
 womanhood, was all brain and heart, the former too active and 
 the latter too loving for the fragile casket in which nature had 
 enclosed them. 
 
 "I delight in recalling recollections of Colonel Burr, and 
 the many thrilling stories I heard when a girl, of his great 
 bravery and gallantry ; of his long, perilous and fatiguing march 
 through the enemy's country, amid deep snow and intense cold,
 
 90 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 to carry a dispatch from his commander General Benedict Ar- 
 nold to General Montgomery, then besieging Quebec; of his 
 carrying the latter after falling desperately wounded through a 
 red sea of the enemy's shots to a place of safety ; of his pleasant 
 association with General Israel Putnam, on whose staff he ably 
 served, and of his distinguished conduct at Monmouth, in which 
 campaign he was stricken with a disease which necessitated 
 his retirement from the army, to whose interests he had been 
 entirely devoted for more than four years. 
 
 "In stature, as I remember, Colonel Burr was about five feet 
 six inches : of spare, meagre form of elegant symmetry ; fair and 
 transparent complexion. He did not dress flashily, but well, 
 and was of commanding presence, erect and dignified deport- 
 ment. His forehead was prominent and broad. His eyes, of 
 which I have already spoken, were of ordinary size, of a dark 
 hazel, appearing almost black, and scintillated with the most 
 tremulous sensibility. They rolled with poetic fervor and 
 beamed at all times with the piercing rays of genius. His mouth 
 was large, his voice manly, clear and as melodious as a lute. 
 His face, analyzed, showed unimportant traits, but upon a super- 
 ficial view they were obscured like the spots in the sun by a 
 radiance that dazzles and fascinates the sight. 
 
 "Colonel Burr, in a promiscuous company, was rather taci- 
 turn, but when he spoke it was with frankness. He was the 
 most perfect model of an accomplished gentleman that could be 
 found, even by the wanton imagination of poetry or fiction. 
 
 "I am heartily glad," said Mrs. Chetwood, in conclusion, 
 "to learn that Americans are beginning to appreciate the great 
 services rendered our country by Colonel Burr, and to bestow 
 upon him that meed of praise of which he has so long been 
 bereft by the machinations of envious men, who have labored to 
 blacken his character and thus effect his ruin." 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF LAFAYETTE. 
 
 MRS. MARY CHETWOOD, of Elizabeth, contempora- 
 neous with many of the illustrious men of the Revolu- 
 tionary War, and who met and conversed with them on 
 numerous occasions, recently narrated to me her recollections 
 of the last visit Marie Jean Paul Roch Yves Gilbert Motier, Mar- 
 quis De Lafayette, made to Elizabeth.
 
 I 
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 9t 
 
 "The General's long-promised visit to this town was antici- 
 pated with joyful pleasure by all our people, poor as well as 
 rich, blacks as well as whites. Our authorities and citizens, 
 with ample time at their disposal, made elaborate preparations for 
 his coming, and the attending receptions, as after the General 
 arrived in New York he went as far as Boston and later to 
 Albany on his sight-seeing journey. Wherever he went he was 
 met by an outpouring of a grateful people, who extended the 
 warmest greetings of welcome. Next to our own beloved 
 Washington, I believe General Lafayette was the most popular 
 man of our Revolution. 
 
 "The General reached here about the middle of September, 
 on one of the most charming days of that delightful month. 
 Everybody rose early that eventful morn and lost no time in 
 getting a coigne of vantage to view the distinguished visitor and 
 the brilliant escort accompanying him. 
 
 "The decorations of buildings, while not so elaborate as I 
 have seen them here in later years, were pretty and effective 
 and highly creditable for the times in which we then lived. You 
 must remember our town then numbered but a few hundred peo- 
 ple, who had hardly recovered from the blighting effects of the 
 long war fought less than half a century previous. 
 
 "I remember General Lafayette's appearance perfectly well," 
 continued Mrs. Chetwood, "as he took my tiny hand in his at 
 the home of my grandfather, Colonel Aaron Ogden, in the fall 
 of 1824. He was then about 60 years old, thick set, and not 
 over five feet seven inches high. His hair, quite short and 
 tinged with gray, was unparted, giving it Pompadour style. His 
 somewhat long neck was encased in a hign stock, covered with, 
 black silk. He wore no hair on his elongated face. He greatly 
 resembled Governor Williamson, with whom I have often asso- 
 ciated him in my mind. 
 
 "I shall never forget the beautiful memories that cluster 
 around the day General Lafayette stopped in our town. Every 
 scene was brilliant and impressive. Business was generally 
 suspended, and the schools closed; everybody appeared in their 
 best attire, and Broad and Jersey Streets presented an animated 
 appearance. 
 
 "The General came dashing into town amid the discharge 
 of cannon and ringing of bells, shortly before noon from New- 
 ark, escorted by a gay cavalcade of horsemen gathered from this 
 town and surrounding country. He traveled in a large and 
 heavy barouche, drawn by six cream-colored horses, with pos-
 
 "92 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 tilions and outriders in liveries. I had never before seen such 
 a gaudy display of apparel, at least not on men. 
 
 "General Lafayette, while in this town, was the guest of 
 General Jonathan Dayton, who then lived in the building at 
 present occupied as the Home for Aged Women, and of my 
 grandfather, Colonel Aaron Ogden, former Governor and 
 United States Senator, whose home was in the brick building 
 standing on the southwest corner of East Jersey and Catharine 
 Streets. 
 
 "Receptions, open to the public, were given the distin- 
 guished visitor at both houses, and I am of the opinion that 
 everybody who assembled there had the pleasure of accepting 
 the outstretched hand of the General, who was in a very happy 
 mood. The ladies who attended were dressed only as fashion 
 and elegance could devise. Their head-dresses were principally 
 flowers, with large ornamental combs, some wearing plumes of 
 ostrich feathers. White and black lace dresses over satin were 
 mostly worn, with steel ornaments, and neckchains of gold and 
 silver, suspended to some of which were gold and silver medals 
 bearing a likeness of General Lafayette, the most popular for- 
 eigner who crossed the sea to aid the Americans in achieving 
 independence. A belt or sash, with a likeness of the General, 
 entwined with a chaplet of roses, also formed part of the dress 
 of the ladies. 
 
 "As nearly half a century had rolled round in the vista of 
 Time since my grandfather and General Dayton first met Gen- 
 eral Lafayette, then a spirited lad of but 19 years, after his arrival 
 in this country to do what he could to aid our people in their 
 desperate struggle with a rich and powerful nation, their reunion 
 on this occasion was most joyful. They warmly embraced, 
 actually throwing themselves into each other's arms, but did 
 not, like the crowned heads of Europe, indulge in any exercise 
 of osculation. They enjoyed themselves tete-a-tete whenever 
 possible, but the constant arrival of those anxious to pay homage 
 precluded such a talk as they would have delighted in. 
 
 "But how much more glorious the occasion had Governor 
 Livingston, General (Lord) Stirling, General Elias Dayton (the 
 personification of Washington), General Matthias Ogden, Gen- 
 eral William Crane, General William Maxwell, Colonel Francis 
 Barber (with whom General Lafayette exchanged swords after 
 the capture of Yorktown), Parson Caldwell and other noted 
 patriot soldiers been present to join in the gladsome welcome to 
 a companion for whom from the first all had the sincerest ad-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 93 
 
 miration and profoundest esteem ? But all these had long since 
 crossed the silent river to join the immortal throng which had 
 gone before. 
 
 "General Lafayette expressed himself as delighted with 
 everything he had seen during his two months' sojourn, which, 
 by the way, was well extended into the next year, enabling him 
 to visit almost every section, and was enthusiastic in predicting 
 a bright and wonderful future for our land. 
 
 "When he took leave of General Dayton and my grand- 
 father, General Lafayette, as well as they, were visibly affected, 
 and I am sure tears welled in their aged eyes, as they did in my 
 younger and brighter ones. The distinguished trio thus parted 
 with the consciousness that never again would they meet in this 
 world. In fact, General Dayton died suddenly a few days after- 
 ward. 
 
 "General Lafayette's visit formed a theme of pleasant con- 
 verse for our people for long years afterward, and with me the 
 impressions imparted by it are among the sweetest of my life." 
 
 A SOLDIER FROM BOYHOOD. 
 
 DURING the times the souls of the first Americans were 
 sorely tried, New Jersey had no firmer patriot, more 
 daring or brilliant soldier, safer counselor or more emi- 
 nent statesman than General Elias Dayton, who was born in 
 Elizabeth in 1737. In his mature years he bore a marked resem- 
 blance to General Washington, with whom, during the struggle 
 for liberty and independence, and long after, he enjoyed confiden- 
 tial relations, and whose confidence he possessed, both being of 
 nearly the same age, Washington antedating him by five years. 
 
 Dayton, when a young man, was noted for his activity, 
 strength, and intrepidity, none excelling him in athletic exercises. 
 None could draw a finer bead over the long and heavy barrel of 
 a Kentucky rifle, his marksmanship being unerring, a matter that 
 proved of great value to him after he became an officer in the 
 English provincial army, while in horsemanship he was unex- 
 celled. On entering his teens he was regarded by his playmates 
 as a leader, all acknowledging his superiority of strength and 
 character. 
 
 When but 22 years of age young Dayton, who had a fond- 
 ness for adventure and military life, entered the military service 
 of the province of New Jersey and was promptly commissioned
 
 "94 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 as a lieutenant. One year later, March 29, 1760, he was promoted 
 to a captaincy, serving at the time with regular British troops 
 in the war against the French on the northwestern frontier. He 
 took a prominent part in the prolonged conflict against Pontiac 
 the great head of the Indian race of that period and chief ally of 
 the French in America, and had much to do in compelling that 
 fierce and vengeful as well as able warrior, while besieging De- 
 troit, to beat a retreat. Captain Dayton greatly distinguished 
 himself the following year in an expedition against Pontiac, and 
 was highly honored by his fellow-townsmen on his return home 
 -at the end of an arduous and dangerous campaign. 
 
 Captain Dayton, retiring from the service, settled down to 
 the quiet walks of private life, but it was not long ere he, like his 
 fellow-countrymen, began to complain of the injustice of King 
 George's government toward the people of the colony, and he 
 became a leader in molding public opinion, and securing the adop- 
 tion of measures that finally led to the Declaration of Independ- 
 ence. 
 
 Immediately after the attack of the British at Lexington, 
 Captain Dayton, to whom the patriots of Elizabeth quickly turned, 
 organized a regiment of militia, many of its members having 
 served with him in the Indian wars, but Congress, for some un- 
 accountable reason, did not accept the services of the command 
 until early in the following year. Notwithstanding this, Colonel 
 Dayton, who had been chosen commander of the Third Regiment, 
 .continued to drill and arm his men, in order to be ready for any 
 emergency that might arise. An opportunity soon presented itself 
 in the unexpected arrival in Prince's Bay, off Amboy, of the 
 British ship Blue Mountain Valley, which put in there owing to a 
 storm. Colonel Dayton, hearing of this, selected one hundred 
 of his men, and in whaleboats, hastened down the sound to effect 
 its capture, a task that was successfully accomplished without 
 the loss of a man. 
 
 Colonel William Alexander (better known as Lord Stirling), 
 who resided at Basking Ridge, and was commander of the First 
 Regiment, also proceeded overland with a small force to Amboy 
 on the same errand. Both forces joined and at daybreak cap- 
 tured the vessel. Alexander, like Admiral Samson at Santiago, 
 reported what he didn't do to Congress, saying never a word 
 about Dayton and his stronger command, which really accom- 
 plished the task and received a vote of thanks. Lord Stirling 
 had had no military training, but this act, in which he played 
 -second part, ultimately made him a major-general in the Con-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 95 
 
 tinental Army, he being the only Jersey man to enjoy that dis- 
 tinction. 
 
 Colonel Dayton and his regiment, after doing guard duty 
 in New York City, marched early in 1776 to Fort Ticonderoga, 
 and assisted in the successful defense of that important strong- 
 hold, and in 1777 he enjoyed the coveted distinction of opening 
 the sanguinary battle of Brandywine, in which conflict Colonel 
 Dayton had a horse shot under him, and at the battle of Ger- 
 mantown, a little later on, had another horse killed under him in 
 the heat of the engagement, his coat being riddled by bullets. It 
 was believed by Colonel Dayton's men that the enemy mistook 
 him for the commander-in-chief whom he so greatly resembled. 
 When his friend, Colonel Francis Barber, jokingly alluded to the 
 loss of two horses in two battles in succession, Colonel Dayton 
 jocosely remarked: "Yes, it is rather a costly luxury, and it 
 eats dreadfully into my salary." 
 
 Colonel Dayton, in June, 1778, enjoyed the merited distinc- 
 tion of first attacking the British column on the glorious field of 
 Monmouth, in this state, where he performed prodigies of valor, 
 and in the summer of 1779, he and his famous command took an 
 active part in the operations of General Sullivan's command in 
 the Wyoming Valley. He served in Congress in 1778-9, and re- 
 joined his command at Yorktown, taking part in the siege, and 
 in the ceremonies attending the surrender of Cornwallis and his 
 army, October 10, 1781. Colonel Dayton succeeded General Wil- 
 liam Maxwell in command of the Jersey brigade, and was thus 
 one of the two brigadier generals appointed from New Jersey to 
 the Continental Army. 
 
 Notable qualities were ever displayed by General Dayton in 
 all the situations to which stern duty called him. He had a com- 
 bination of the daring spirit of the soldier, which he was born 
 to be, as well as business and statesmanlike qualities, which 
 eminently fitted him for the important affairs which constantly 
 confronted and engrossed him. He possessed executive ability 
 of a high order, and had a comprehension of details which were 
 of infinite service to his command as well as to his country, whose 
 interests he ever faithfully and efficiently served. A successful 
 soldier, a hero in many arduous and fatiguing campaigns, he 
 was of unblemished character and cultivated intellect. His de- 
 portment, while dignified, was winning. He was one of the finest 
 examples of the citizen-soldier in American history. 
 
 A leader by divine right, and a magnetizer of men whose 
 winning art was unconsciously exercised, General Elias Dayton
 
 96 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 never failed to deploy with such consummate finesse that it was 
 always his men who led and he who followed. The care and 
 safety of his men and the good of his country was the pillar of 
 cloud by day and his pillar of fire by night. 
 
 General Dayton towered in strength, and in activity he was 
 marvelous, and, compressing the arduous, well-directed toil of 
 years into the brevity of this imperfect sketch, no man did 
 more than he to regenerate and stimulate his fellow-citizens dur- 
 ing the great contest in which he bore such a conspicuous part. 
 A Solon in wisdom, irreproachable as a citizen, ideal in his 
 home, noble-minded and princely in all his impulses, General 
 Dayton was a man who wove the precious threads of his check- 
 ered and honored life into the tapestry of our country's history, 
 enjoying the highest honors his people had to give, and which he 
 magnificently bore with opulent fruitage. 
 
 His death in 1807, at the age of three-score years and ten. 
 caused all our people to mourn at his tomb in the burying ground 
 in the First Presbyterian Churchyard. His memory is embalmed 
 with the amaranth and ivy of the love of patriots, while the tree- 
 top choristers overshadowing his resting place, chant requiems 
 and the grass continues to grow green above him. 
 
 MISS MARGARET MONCRIEFFE. 
 
 A BEAUTIFUL and charming woman, who became notor- 
 ious the wide-world over after the American revolution, 
 passed her happy school-girl days in Elizabethtown, and 
 a chapter or two concerning her ill-spent life may not prove unin- 
 teresting. 
 
 It is of the unhappy and unfortunate Margaret Moncrieffe 
 whose chequered history I am now induced to rehearse. It was 
 on her account for which, however, she was in no way responsi- 
 ble that the gallant Aaron Burr was traduced, his motive as- 
 persed, and his character forever blackened. 
 
 Margaret Moncrieffe, only daughter of Captain James Mon- 
 crieffe (at the end of the war lieutenant-colonel of engineers in 
 the British army), when fourteen years of age. was a woman in 
 development witty, piquant and lovely. Previous to the out- 
 break of the revolution she had resided in New York City, where 
 her father was stationed with his command. 
 
 Related to Governor Livingston's family, Margaret was in- 
 vited to visit Elizabethtown and make her home at "Liberty
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 97 
 
 Hall," the present residence of the Kean family, until the "trou- 
 blous times are o'er." 
 
 The occupancy of New York City by the American army. 
 and the compulsory retirement therefrom of the British force, 
 necessarily separated father and daughter, and for a time they 
 were unable to communicate with each other. When the British 
 took possession of Staten Island in July, 1776, and Margaret 
 learned that her father, to whom she was greatly attached, was 
 with the troops there, she yearned to join him, and wrote General 
 Israel Putnam, commanding the American force 'in New York 
 City, to that effect, begging his advice and assistance in restor- 
 ing her to her father. 
 
 Aaron Burr, then a major in the Continental army, receiving 
 his commission from the state of New Jersey, of which he was a 
 native, and a member of General Putnam's military household, 
 prepared the bluff old general's reply to her letter, in which the 
 general was made to say that as a soldier he was her father's 
 enemy, but as a man his friend, and ready to perform any worthy 
 act for him or his. He concluded by inviting Miss Moncrieffe to 
 leave Elizabeth town and come to New York City and make her 
 home with his family at his headquarters, No. 1 Broadway, until 
 he could arrange for sending her to her father on Staten Island. 
 
 General Putnam's kind letter rejoiced the young lady's heart, 
 and bidding Governor Livingston's family farewell, she left this 
 town for New York in a small sail-boat, escorted by one of Gen- 
 eral Putnam's aides, who was accompanied by his wife. 
 
 It was at General Putnam's headquarters that Margaret Mon- 
 crieffe first met the ever-courteous and dashing Aaron Burr, with 
 whom, later on. she became intimate. Most writers, from that 
 day to this, have attributed Miss Moncrieffe's subsequent career 
 of shame and sorrow to the major, then popular with all, save 
 Alexander Hamilton, in whom the green-eyed monster existed 
 from the time he and Burr first met. 
 
 In her memoirs, published early in the last century, Miss 
 Moncrieffe writes as follows of her departure from Elizabethtown 
 and her arrival in New York. It is generally conceded that her 
 "conqueror," whom she so passionately and eloquently extols, 
 was Major Aaron Burr: 
 
 "* * * When I arrived in Broadway (a street so called), 
 where General Putnam resided, I was received with great ten- 
 derness, both by Mrs. Putnam and her daughters, and on the 
 following day I was introduced by them to General and Mrs. 
 Washington, who likewise made it their duty to show me every
 
 98 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 mark of regard; but I was seldom allowed to be alone, although, 
 sometimes, indeed, I found an opportunity to escape to the gal- 
 lery on top of the house, where my chief delight was to view, 
 with a telescope our fleet and army on Staten Island. My 
 amusements were few; the good Mrs. Putnam employed me and 
 her daughters constantly to spin flax for shirts for the American, 
 soldiers; indolence in America being totally discouraged; and I 
 likewise worked for General Putnam, who, though not an accom- 
 plished muscadin, like our dillatantes of St. James Street, was 
 certainly one of the best characters in the world ; his heart being 
 composed of those noble materials which equally command re- 
 spect and admiration. 
 
 "* * * One day a flag of truce arrived from Staten 
 Island, with letters from Major Moncrieffe, demanding me, for 
 they now considered me as a prisoner. General Washington; 
 would not acquiesce in this demand, saying that 'I should remain 
 a hostage for my father's good behavior.' I must here observe 
 that when General Washington refused to deliver me up, the 
 noble-minded Putnam, as if it were by instinct, laid his hand 
 upon his sword, and with a violent oath, swore 'that my father's 
 request should be granted.' The commander-in-chief, whose 
 influence governed Congress, soon prevailed on them to consider 
 me as a person whose situation required their strict attention; 
 and that I might not escape, they ordered me to Kingsbridge 
 where, in justice, I must say, that I was treated with the utmost 
 tenderness. General Mifflin there commanded. His lady was a 
 most accomplished, beautiful woman, a Quaker. And here my 
 heart received its first impression an impression that, amid the 
 subsequent shocks which it has received, has never been effaced^ 
 and which rendered me very unfit to admit the embraces of an- 
 unfeeling brutish husband. 
 
 "O, may these pages one day meet the eye of him who sub- 
 dued my virgin heart, whom the immutable, unerring laws of 
 nature had pointed out for my husband, but whose sacred decree 
 the barbarous custom of society fatally violated. To him I 
 plighted my virgin vow, and I shall never cease to lament that 
 obedience to a father left it incomplete. When I reflect on my 
 past sufferings, now that, alas ! my present sorrows press heavily 
 upon me, I cannot refrain from expatiating a little on the inevita- 
 ble horrors which ever attend the frustration of natural affec- 
 tions : I myself, who, unpitied by the world, have endured every 
 calamity that human heart knows, am a melancholy example of 
 this truth ; for if I know my own heart, it is far better calculated
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 99 
 
 for the purer joys of domestic life than for the hurricane of 
 extravagance and dissipation in which I have been wrecked. 
 
 "Why is the will of nature so often perverted? Why is 
 social happiness forever sacrificed at the altar of prejudice? 
 Avarice has usurped the throne of reason, and the affections of 
 the heart are not consulted. We cannot command our desires, 
 and when the object of our being is unattained, misery must nec- 
 essarily be our doom. Let this truth, therefore, be forever re- 
 membered: when once an affection has rooted itself in a tender 
 constant heart, no time, no circumstance can eradicate it. Un- 
 fortunate, then, are they who are joined if their hearts are not 
 matched ! 
 
 "With this conqueror of my soul, how happy should I now 
 have been ! What storms and tempests should I have avoided (at 
 least I am pleased to think so), if I had been allowed to follow 
 the bent of my inclinations! and happier, O, ten thousand times 
 happier, should I have been with him in the wildest desert of our 
 native country, the woods affording us our only shelter, and 
 their fruits our only repast, than under the canopy of costly 
 state, with all the refinements and embellishments of courts, with 
 the royal warrior who would fain have proved himself the con- 
 queror of France. 
 
 "My conqueror was engaged in another cause; he was am- 
 bitious to obtain other laurels: he fought to liberate, not to en- 
 slave nations. He was a colonel in the American army, and high 
 in the estimation of his country; his victories were never accom- 
 panied with one gloomy, relentless thought; they alone shone as 
 bright as the cause which achieved them! I had communicated 
 to General Putnam the proposals of this gentleman, with my 
 determination to accept them, and I was embarrassed by the 
 answer which the general returned ; he entreated me to remember 
 that the person in question, from his political principles, was 
 extremely obnoxious to my father, and concluded by observing, 
 'that I surely must not unite with a man who would not hesitate 
 . to drench his sword in the blood of my nearest relation, should 
 he be opposed to him in battle.' Saying this, he lamented the 
 necessity of giving advice contrary to his own sentiments, since 
 in every other respect he considered the match as unexception- 
 able. Nevertheless, General Putnam, after this discovery, ap- 
 peared, in all his visits to Kingsbridge, extremely reserved; nor 
 did he ever cease to make the object of his concern to Congress ; 
 and, after various applications, he succeeded in obtaining leave 
 for my departure; when, in order that I should go to Staten
 
 100 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Island with the respect due to my sex and family, the barge 
 belonging to the Continental Congress was ordered, with twelve 
 oars and a general officer, together with his suite, was despatched - 
 to see me safe across the bay of New York. The day was so 
 very tempestuous that I was half drowned with the waves dash- 
 ing against me. When we came within hail of the Eagle man- 
 of-war, which was Lord Howe's ship, a flag of truce was sent to 
 meet us. The officer despatched on this occasion was Lieutenant 
 Brown. General Knox told him that he had orders to see me 
 safe at headquarters. Lieutenant Brown replied, 'It was impos- 
 sible, as no person from the enemy could approach nearer the 
 English fleet' ; but added, 'that if I would place myself under his 
 protection, he certainly would attend me thither.' I then entered 
 the barge, and bidding an eternal farewell to my dear American 
 friends, turned my back on Liberty. 
 
 "We first rowed alongside the Eagle, and Mr. Brown after- 
 ward conveyed me to headquarters. When my name was an- 
 nounced, the British commander-in-chief sent Colonel Sheriff 
 (lately made a general, and who, during my father's life-time, 
 was one of his most particular friends ; although, alas ! the en- 
 dearing sentiment of friendship now seems extinct in his breast, 
 as far as the unhappy daughter is concerned), with an invitation 
 from Sir William Howe to dinner, which was necessarily ac- 
 cepted. When introduced, I cannot describe the emotion I felt; 
 so sudden the transition in a few hours, that I was ready to sink 
 into earth ! Judge the distress of a girl not fourteen obliged to 
 encounter the curious, inquisitive eyes of at least forty or fifty 
 people who were at dinner with the general. Fatigued with their 
 fastidious compliments, I could only hear the buzz among them 
 saying, 'She is a sweet girl ; she is divinely handsome' ; although 
 it was some relief to be placed at table next to the wife of Major 
 Montresor, who had known me from infancy." 
 
 Miss Moncrieffe, in her memoirs, records the history of her 
 unfortunate marriage with Captain John Coghlan of the 85th 
 Regiment of Foot of the British Army, who, by the brutality of 
 his conduct and his entrance into every fashionable vice and folly 
 of the day, "drove her into the arms of a paramour." She and 
 her husband sailed on the flagship of the British fleet, which left 
 New York for England Evacuation Day, 1783. 
 
 She asserts that she led a strictly virtuous life until, after 
 being forced into marriage with a man she loathed, she was sub- 
 jected by him to harsh and cruel treatment, and it is, therefore 
 but just to the memory of Colonel Aaron Burr, every way better
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 101 
 
 than most of his traducers, for the reader to be informed that 
 the foul story of her ruination by him finds no corroboration in 
 her own printed and intensely interesting narrative. 
 
 Soon after the arrival of herself and husband in London, 
 she left the brute she was compelled to acknowledge as husband, 
 and became the mistress of the rakish Duke of York, and other 
 noble libertines, who were entranced with her ''beauty and divine 
 loveliness." 
 
 For a period of fifteen years Margaret Moncrieffe made no 
 inconsiderable noise in the fashionable circles of Great Britain 
 and France. She alternatively reveled in wealth and luxury and 
 in squalid poverty, and, finally, when "beauty fled," found her- 
 self deserted by all, and at last died in misery and suffering in 
 London. 
 
 ELIZABETHANS DEFEND AARON BURR. 
 
 THE patriots of Elizabethtown and vicinity seem to have 
 been cognizant, as early as 1800, of the insidious efforts 
 of the aristocratic federalists and tories of New York, to 
 effect the downfall and personal ruin of the gallant Colonel Aaron 
 Burr, for whom Alexander Hamilton, a foreigner, without natural 
 parents, had, during his schoolboy days and throughout the 
 American revolution, nursed a bitter and relentless hatred. This 
 feeling on the part of patriotic Jerseymen will be seen in the 
 following toasts drank at public meetings held here after ColoneJ 
 Burr had been inaugurated as vice-president of the United States 
 I copy from the Elizabeth Journal of March, 1801 : 
 
 "A large number of republicans of this town met on the 
 evening of March 10 to celebrate the inauguration of Thomas 
 Jefferson as president, and Aaron Burr as vice-president, and 
 among the toasts drank was the following: 
 
 " 'Aaron Burr, Vice- President May his enemies do penance 
 by being obliged to swallow A Burr. (Three cheers.)'" 
 
 On the same evening the republicans of Westfield met and 
 drank the following toast to Colonel Burr: 
 
 "Aaron Burr, Vice-President and President of the Senate 
 May his patriotism and wisdom defeat the plans of the wicked 
 junta in that house." 
 
 "Wheatsheaf, March 4. Vice-President Burr May he re- 
 main as an unbroken pillar in the cause of Freedom and prove 
 a scourge to aristocracy wherever it may appear."
 
 102 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 "March 17. North Farms. The worthy Aaron Burr, vice- 
 president of the United States May he co-operate with the 
 sage of Monticello in making this western world free, indepen- 
 dent and happy. (Six cheers.)" 
 
 CAPTURE OF GUN BOAT. 
 
 DURING most of the Revolutionary War the tories on 
 Staten Island kept small armed vessels on guard along 
 the sound from Bergen Point to Tottenville, and Ameri- 
 cans from Elizabethtown made frequent attempts to capture them, 
 as they were a source of much trouble and of infinite danger to 
 our people. 
 
 One beautiful moonlight night a party of town boys rowed 
 down to Tottenville, hoping to capture a sloop lying at anchor 
 there, but finding its captain James Stewart and crew bustling 
 about on deck they turned back and returned home, bitterly la- 
 menting the failure of their enterprise. 
 
 For a long time in 1779 a sloop called the "Neptune" did 
 guard service off Bergen Point, commanding the entrance to the 
 Kills as well as Newark Bay, but one night in October, during 
 a heavy blow, the craft got loose from its anchorage, and drifted 
 toward this town, grounding on the bar east of the present Singer 
 factory. 
 
 The soldiers who manned the fortifications at the eastern 
 terminal of New Point Road, seeing the vessel fast in the mud 
 at low tide, got into boats, and rowing out. took possession of the 
 deserted craft. They were congratulating themselves on the 
 capture when they saw several whale boats, filled with armed 
 men, putting out from Port Richmond, with a view of effecting 
 its recapture. 
 
 The Americans, unable to fire the cannon on the deck of the 
 sloop, put up a stiff fight with their muskets, but finding them- 
 selves greatly outnumbered, and a British gunboat rapidly ap- 
 proaching, withdrew from the vessel, and made good their return 
 to the shore and the protection of the fort. 
 
 Cornelius and Job Hetfield, two notorious tories, who were 
 driven out of Elizabethtown on the breaking out of the war, were 
 in command of the British boats. 
 
 The Neptune remained fast in the mud until the tide rose, 
 when she floated and sailed away, not, however, without receiv-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 103 
 
 ing some damage, and several of her defenders being killed and 
 wounded by the Americans. 
 
 The tories and renegades on Staten Island were a disreput- 
 able lot, respecting neither friend or foe, revenge and plunder 
 being their chief incentives. 
 
 One night a British vessel, under a flag of truce, on its way 
 from New York to this town, was suddenly boarded by a number 
 of armed men in disguise. They spared the lives of those on 
 board when promised the quiet surrender of some two thousand 
 guineas which the British paymaster-general in New York had 
 consigned to the vessel for delivery here, the Americans having 
 agreed to forward the gold to Pennsylvania to purchase supplies 
 for the Hessian prisoners of war confined there. 
 
 The British attempted to fasten the crime on soldiers from 
 Elizabethtown, but the fact was soon after established that Staten 
 Island tories perpetrated the act 
 
 BRITISH FRIGHTENED BY GIRL. 
 
 A TRADITION of the hasty and demoralizing retreat of 
 Knyphausen's army from Connecticut Farms on the terri- 
 ble night following the battle in June, 1780, is to the 
 effect that a number of drunken Hessian soldiers, searching for 
 plunder, left the disordered column and entered "Liberty Hall," 
 the abode of Governor Livingston, and the present home of the 
 Kean family. 
 
 In the time of the revolution, the present Morris Avenue 
 ran but a short distance above "Liberty Hall," where it branched 
 off in a northeasterly direction, as far as the entrance to Vauxhall 
 Road, at what is now known as Salem. The Vauxhall Road, 
 in its serpentine course, leading to Springfield and the mountains 
 beyond, is about the same to-day as then, except that most of it 
 has been telforized, making a pretty drive its whole length. 
 
 The Vauxhall Road, originally an Indian trail and subse- 
 quently a cow path, which accounts for its winding ways through 
 and over the hills, was one of the two main thoroughfares leading 
 from this town to Morristown previous to and during the Revo- 
 lutionary War. 
 
 It was by this road that one column of the British army fled 
 back to this town on the night of June 7, after its defeat at Con- 
 necticut Farms. The night was made boisterous by a fearful 
 storm of blinding lightning and loud rolling thunder, and the wild
 
 104 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 but senseless curses of the drunken British soldiers, smarting 
 under the humiliation of bitter defeat by a handful of American 
 farmer boys, illy clad and poorly armed. 
 
 As I have already narrated, detachments from this drunken 
 army (now a mere rabble), entered the house of Governor Liv- 
 ingston for purposes of plunder, if nothing worse. They knew 
 no men folks would be within, and capable of any crime, as they 
 had shown themselves a few hours before when they mercilessly 
 murdered Mrs. Caldwell in her sanctified home, they forced an 
 entrance. 
 
 The maid servants had fastened themselves in the kitchen, 
 an apartment at the north end of the mansion, while the two 
 heroic daughters of the Governor securely locked the doors lead- 
 ing into their chamber from the broad open hallway on the second 
 floor. 
 
 The beastly ruffians. I am glad to state, contented them- 
 selves by remaining on the ground floors, where they searched 
 for treasure, and it was while thus engaged that Miss Kate Liv- 
 ingston, attired in a white robe (perhaps a night dress), appeared 
 at the head of the stairs, holding in her hand a lighted taper, the 
 beams from which partially illumined the hallway below. 
 
 However much the rum-besoaked ruffians were insensible to 
 human fear, they no sooner beheld Miss Livingston's angelic form 
 than by common accord they rushed from the house, declaring 
 the apparition of the murdered saint (Mrs. Caldwell), had thus 
 suddenly appeared to reprove them for their awful crime. 
 
 It was this scene that caused the hasty exit of the Hessians 
 from a house they hated, and which they doubtless would have 
 been glad to detroy. The only wonder is that the historic house 
 was not given to the flames, for it was repeatedly visited by the 
 enemy during the eight years of the American revolution. 
 
 REFUGEES MAKE BITTER FIGHT. 
 
 ONE of the last as well as one of the fiercest encounters 
 between New Jersey militiamen and refugees in the 
 Revolutionary War took place in Burlington County in 
 January, 1783. 
 
 John Bacon, a native of Monmouth County, one of the most 
 notorious refugees in South Jersey, while on one of his mur- 
 derous raids, halted his gang in the vicinity of Cedar Creek 
 bridge.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 105 
 
 Captain Richard Shreve, commanding the Burlington County 
 Lighthouse, learning of Bacon's whereabouts, induced Captain 
 Edward Thomas, commanding the Mansfield militia company to 
 join him in an attempt to capture Bacon, for whom Governor 
 Livingston, of Elizabethtown, had offered a reward of twenty- 
 five pounds. 
 
 Captain Thomas got his men together as quickly as possible, 
 and both commands started for the camp of the outlaws, which 
 was reached in the middle of the afternoon. 
 
 The refugees, who had meantime learned of the approach 
 of the soldiers, put themselves in an excellent position of defense 
 on the opposite side of the creek, first blockading the bridge so 
 that the horsemen would be unable to charge over it. 
 
 Upon the near approach of the militiamen Bacon and his cut- 
 throats opened fire, one of the first shots killing William Cooke 
 and seriously wounding Robert Reckless, for whom Reckless- 
 town was subsequently named. 
 
 The refugees not only possessed better arms and ammuni- 
 tion than the militia, but they enjoyed a strong defensive position 
 along the southerly side of the creek, which was heavily wooded. 
 This led the attacking party to exercise the utmost wariness. 
 Finally the militia reached and ensconced themselves behind the 
 north bank of the creek, which enabled them to fire with deadly 
 effect, and as the militiamen outnumbered the refugees, the latter 
 having lost a number of men, were on the point of giving way. 
 when the soldiers received a volley from a party of newcomer.- 
 which had come upon them unawares. This attack from a new 
 and unexpected quarter threw the militiamen into disorder, and 
 came near precipitating their flight. 
 
 The horsemen turned upon this new enemy, killing some and 
 taking others prisoners. Among the refugees killed was Ichabod 
 Johnson, a notorious murderer, for whom Governor Livingston 
 had offered a reward, dead or alive. Bacon, although severely 
 wounded, managed to escape, but a few weeks later he was sur- 
 prised in his haunt at Egg Harbor and killed by a detachment of 
 Captain Shreve's horsemen, commanded by Cornet Cook. 
 
 The militiamen chased Bacon and the gang until darkness 
 rendered further pursuit hopeless, when, with their prisoners 
 and much property which the refugees had stolen, they returned 
 to Burlington, lodging their captives in the jail, which they sur- 
 rounded with a strong guard. 
 
 Some of them were tried and executed for their foul crimes.
 
 106 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 ARNOLD'S GREAT NAVAL BATTLE. 
 
 GENERAL BENEDICT ARNOLD, a splendid fighter so 
 long as he was true to manhood and the patriot cause, 
 was commander of the first American fleet that ever 
 engaged Great Britain in a naval battle. 
 
 Arnold, who had been a non-commissioned officer in the 
 British Army before the Revolution, was the best fighter in the 
 Continental Army. It was in June, 1776, after the American 
 force had been driven out of Canada, and General Sullivan was 
 strengthening Fort Ticonderoga, that General Arnold begged 
 permission of General Gates, who bitterly hated Washington, to 
 build some boats so that he could engage the enemy when he 
 appeared in Lake Champlain, an event naturally to be expected. 
 Obtaining the desired permission, Arnold got a detail of men, and 
 set to work constructing vessels, and a couple of months later 
 he had launched his little fleet a sloop, three schooners, and 
 five gondolas. The sloop was armed with twelve guns, one 
 schooner with the same number, the others eight, and the gon- 
 dolas three each. The guns had formerly belonged to England, 
 .and were some of the two hundred which Colonel Ethan Allen 
 had captured at Fort Ticonderoga in the name of the Great 
 Jehovah and the Continental Congress. 
 
 When General Carleton, who had driven our army out of 
 Canada, learned what General Arnold was up to he sent nearly 
 one thousand men from Quebec to St. Johns, to construct a fleet 
 that would be sufficient to destroy the American vessels. The 
 British, with everything at hand, soon completed their craft 
 twenty-five in number. One of the vessels, named the "Thun- 
 derer," flat bottomed, carried six 24-pounders and twelve six- 
 pounders, the "Inflexible" (flagship) having eighteen 12-pound- 
 ers, while each of the twenty-four gunboats were armed with a 
 field piece, all better than anything Arnold had. 
 
 About the first of September General Arnold sailed down 
 the lake, with positive instructions not to pass a given point, 
 and only to act on the defensive. Faithful to his orders, Arnold 
 cast anchor with his vessels across the lake to prevent any of 
 the enemy's boats from passing up, or getting in his rear. 
 
 While thus anchored General Arnold discovered that he 
 was in danger of being attacked and boarded by British and In- 
 dians who had come down from Canada and were encamped on 
 both shores. To evade an attack of this character, he fell back
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 107 
 
 toward his base some ten miles, where his fleet was greatly aug- 
 mented, his ship-builders having kept at their task all summer. 
 His fleet, now considered quite formidable, consisted of three 
 schooners, two sloops, three galleys, eight gondolas and twenty- 
 one gunboats. 
 
 Arnold, profoundly ignorant of the strength and composition 
 of the armament which he knew Carleton was preparing and 
 unwilling to engage what he had every reason to believe a supe- 
 rior force, retreated still further up the lake, anchoring across 
 the narrow channel between Valcour's Island and the western 
 shore (New York), to await the arrival of the British fleet and 
 there test conclusions on the water for the first time. 
 
 It was at an early hour on the morning of October 11 that 
 the British fleet appeared off Cumberland Head, and in due time 
 it swept around the southern point of Valcour's Island. As the 
 <enemy approached General Arnold, who was on the galley "Con- 
 gress" (flagship), made a fervent speech. He said this was the 
 first time Americans ever had a chance to fight the British on 
 water, and if they acquitted themselves as well as they had on 
 land he had no fears as to the result of the engagement. The 
 boys gave him three cheers which went floating over the broad 
 waters, finding echoes in the grand old hills beyond. 
 
 The first shot came richochetting over the wind-perturbed 
 waters of the beautiful and hitherto peaceful lake from the 
 "Carleton," which at once attacked the "Royal Savage" and 
 three galleys farthest advanced from our line. The "Royal 
 Savage," in trying to return, went aground, and to save her from 
 capture she was set on fire and burned, the crew, however, es- 
 caping. General Arnold, on board the "Congress," greatly irri- 
 tated over the loss of the "Royal Savage," made for the "Carle- 
 ton," firing the first gun with his own hands, and thus was com- 
 menced the first naval battle between Americans and Britons. 
 
 It must be remembered that our men were landsmen, know- 
 ing little or nothing about sailing or manoeuvring on the water, 
 while the British force, twice as strong in every respect, was 
 composed of sailors taken from ships of war at Quebec. The 
 enemy thus possessed infinite advantage. 
 
 Throughout the entire afternoon the battle raged fiercely, 
 and although the "Congress" was hulled a dozen times, received 
 seven shots between wind and water, the mainmast shattered, the 
 rigging cut to pieces, and many of the crew killed or wounded, 
 General Arnold, without coat or hat, continued firing. He had 
 no thought of giving up, and when not aiming and firing one
 
 108 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 gun or the other, was busy in signaling to his other vessels, each 
 of which was doing its best. 
 
 To make matters worse, the British landed a strong body of 
 Indians on the adjacent islands, and when near enough, they 
 picked off some of our men. This movement on the part of 
 the British had been anticipated by General Arnold, and although 
 he sent a few shots into the woods, where nothing could be seen 
 except little puffs of smoke, he felt it was dangerous to remain 
 in the position, and decided to get away as soon as darkness 
 covered the waters. 
 
 When night came both parties stopped fighting and an- 
 chored within a few hundred yards of each other. The men were 
 literally exhausted. General Arnold, satisfied that he could not 
 cope with the British vessels, superior in every way, called his 
 officers together for consultation, when it was determined to re- 
 tire during the night to Crown Point. 
 
 The British commander, not anticipating such a move on our 
 part, anchored his vessels in double lines from the island to the 
 main land. This fact, known to General Arnold, was communi- 
 cated to his officers, who were given specific instructions as to 
 their future action. Fortunately the night was wrapped in Cim- 
 merian gloom. This was the only thing that saved us. It en- 
 abled Arnold to get out of a bad trap. 
 
 At about ten o'clock our vessels quietly weighed anchor, and 
 with a good stiff wind from the north, just what was needed, 
 and which was Providential, we boldly sailed entirely unobserved 
 through two of the enemy's lines, Arnold bringing up the rear 
 in his crippled galley, which had stood the brunt of the battle. It 
 was a bold movement, perhaps unparalleled for audacity. 
 
 When daybreak came, after a seemingly interminable night, 
 the British must have been thrown into a state of surprise on 
 beholding our vessels ten miles away. The exhausted Ameri- 
 cans had all they could do to stop the leaks in some of the boats 
 to keep them afloat, and a terrible job in trying to repair sails 
 and rigging. The British commander, doubtless vexed at the 
 remarkable escape, lost no time in weighing anchor and in giving 
 pursuit. Although he had sustained losses, he felt confidence 
 in his great superiority of men, guns and ships and did not hesi- 
 tate to renew the engagement. 
 
 The veering of the wind from the north to the south about 
 noon greatly retarded both fleets, and night again coming on, 
 anchors were cast. The night, to Arnold's view, was appar- 
 ently unending. His men were wet, hungry and absolutely ex-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 109 
 
 "hausted. Morning, however, did come, and with it the British 
 fleet. General Arnold, finding the enemy fast overhauling him, 
 dropped to the rear with the "Congress," "Washington" and 
 four gondolas, hoping thus to allow his other vesses to escape. 
 When the three largest British vessels "Carleton." "Inflexible," 
 and "Maria" (General Carleton being on the last named), came 
 within distance of the American rearguard, they opened a fierce 
 fire, to which our folks replied with all the spirit left in them. 
 The "Washington" soon struck, her commander, .General Water- 
 bury, and his crew surrendering. 
 
 Then the three British ships united in an attack upon the 
 "Congress." They poured a rain of iron hail upon the Ameri- 
 can boats, General Arnold, still undaunted, with a red hand- 
 kerchief bound tightly about his head, running from one gun to 
 another directing their fire. He was perfectly insensibe to fear, 
 and although splinters and shot flew about him, he escaped 
 serious wounds. 
 
 For four long hours the British continued their attack upon 
 the "Congress," as they knew General Arnold was on board and 
 in supreme command. Finally other vessels took part in the 
 merciless attack upon the "Congress," and at one time no less 
 than seven of the biggest British ships were pouring in a terrible 
 fire. 
 
 When Arnold at last saw further resistance was futile, deter- 
 mined never to surrender, he ran the "Congress" and his four 
 gondolas ashore about ten miles from Crown Point, where he set 
 them on fire and waited to see them consumed. He was the last 
 man to leave the "Congress," having remained on board to su- 
 perintend the removal of the dead and wounded. When the 
 men left the vessels they took along muskets and ammunition, 
 and it was well they were able to do so, as on the march to 
 Crown Point they were suddenly and unexpectedly attacked by 
 a body of Indians, with whom they had a stiff fight for an hour, 
 finally putting them to flight. 
 
 Notwithstanding the defeat and the disastrous termination 
 of the expedition, the efforts of the soldier-sailors were lauded 
 throughout the country. Arnold's popularity, gained at Que- 
 bec, was immeasurably increased, and the army and people 
 shouted his praises. After a few years, he became tired of fight- 
 ing for his native land, tried to sell it for a mess of pottage and 
 after his perfidy lived and died a man without a country.
 
 110 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 OPERATIONS OF A NOTED SCOUT. 
 
 ONE of the most daring partisan rangers in the employ of 
 this state during the Revolutionary War was Baker Hen- 
 dricks, a native of Elizabethtown, a cousin of the Hetfield 
 outlaws. In the early part of the war, after the British landed on 
 Staten Island, Hendricks efficiently served Washington as a 
 scout. His thorough knowledge of cowpaths and trails on the 
 island, and an extended acquaintance among the people there, 
 qualified him for the dangerous duty of a spy. 
 
 In 1780 Governor Livingston commissioned Hendricks as a 
 captain. At this time he was twenty-four years old, and from 
 then on till the end of the war, he conducted operations on land 
 and on water. 
 
 He soon attracted a number of young men, and fitting out 
 two whale-boats, which he named "Flying Squirrel" and 
 "Charming Betsy," he became a terror to the refugees on the 
 island. 
 
 On one occasion Hendricks, with a dozen men, crossed over 
 to the island in the night time to recapture a lot of cattle which 
 had been stolen from our people. Being discovered by the 
 First Regiment of New Jersey Volunteers (refugees), Hendricks 
 was compelled to retire, but he contested every foot of the 
 ground from Salter's house to the water. Hendricks was slightly 
 wounded while getting into his boat. 
 
 Captain Hendricks was a source of great annoyance to peo- 
 ple on Staten Island and Bergen Point, whom he took great 
 delight in attacking whenever opportunity presented itself. He 
 made frequent trips along the sound, capturing piquets and any 
 property that could be used by the Continental Army or the 
 militia. 
 
 One very cold night in December, 1782, Hendricks sailed 
 into the Kills, and captured a British sloop, armed with two 
 small cannon. He took the crew prisoners, and would have 
 brought the vessel to this town, but as she ran aground near 
 Shooters's Island, the captain stripped her of arms, sails, rig- 
 ging, cable, anchor and long boat, and set her on fire. 
 
 It has long been thought that the iron field piece recently 
 mounted at Connecticut Farms (Union Village) was one of the 
 two cannon captured on this occasion by Captain Hendricks. 
 
 Despite his many adventures and the great injury he in- 
 flicted on the enemy on the island and at Bergen Point, he was
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 
 
 finally suspected of illicit intercourse, and Governor 
 
 felt compelled to demand the return of the state commission 
 
 he had three vears before issued to him. 
 
 HETFIELDS CAPTURED TWO OFFICERS. 
 
 THE humiliating defeats sustained by the British force at 
 Connecticut Farms June 7, 1870, and again at Springfield 
 on the twenty-third of the same month by illy-clad and 
 poorly armed farmer boys caused Sir Henry Clinton, the British 
 commander-in-chief, to relinquish all further hope of penetrating 
 Washington's lines among and beyond the Short Hills, and dur- 
 ing the continuance of the war the people in this section enjoyed 
 a feeling of comparative safety, notwithstanding the continued 
 presence of a large force of the enemy on Staten Island. 
 
 Although no further movements on a large scale were made 
 in this direction by the enemy, predatory raids were of frequent 
 occurrence. These were chiefly confined to the capture of prom- 
 inent citizens, to be held as hostages, and the stealing of cattle. 
 The regular British troops took no part in these midnight for- 
 ages after the battle of Springfield, the bitter and unforgiving 
 refugees from this and other colonies alone participating with 
 fiendish glee when successful. Chief among the gangs which 
 visited this town repeatedly during 1780, was that led by Cap- 
 tain Smith Hetfield and his brother, Captain Cornelius Hetfield. 
 who, having been driven from Elizabethtown after the outbreak 
 of the war, took refuge on Staten Island, where they were petted 
 and encouraged by British commanders for several years. The 
 Hetfields attained notoriety by their activity and dare-deviltry. 
 Insensible to fear, they had no mercy on those who fell into 
 their hands, as was the case with Stephen Ball, a resident of 
 Rahway, who, having permission to trade on Staten Island, was 
 pursuing his peaceful calling, when he was rudely pounced upon 
 and taken prisoner by Cornelius Hetfield, who without judge or 
 jury, hung him at Bergen Point, because he was afraid to per- 
 petrate the dastard crime on the island, the British commander 
 there having refused to adjudge Mr. Ball guilty of being a spy. 
 as Hetfield alleged. 
 
 The Hetfield brothers, born in a house still standing at the 
 southerly end of Pearl street, and known to our oldest people as 
 "Paradise Farm," had an intimate knowledge of this part of the 
 country. They were familiar with every nook and crook, and
 
 112 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 acquainted with nearly every family in what is now circum- 
 scribed by the bounds of Union County. 
 
 It was Saturday night, November 4, that Smith and Cor- 
 nelius Hetfield and half a dozen other wild and adventurous 
 spirits, after crossing the sound in a flat-bottomed scow, dise 
 barked where Tremley now stands, remounted their horses and 
 quickly reached Elizabethtown. They came with the avowed 
 intention of capturing Colonel Matthias Ogden, of the First 
 New Jersey Regiment, and Captain Jonathan Dayton, paymas- 
 ter of the Third New Jersey Regiment, whom they had previously 
 learned were at their homes there. The Hetfields bitterly hated 
 these patriot officers, and had long threatened to punish them. 
 
 Ascertaining that Colonel Ogden and Captain Dayton were 
 temporarily stopping at William Herd's home at Connecticut 
 Farms, the Hetfield party rode rapidly there, and, surrounding 
 the house before the inmates were aware of their presence, they 
 burst in the doors and called upon all to surrender. Resistance 
 under such circumstances being futile, the two American officers 
 keenly feeling the disgrace of having been thus caught napping, 
 hastily made their toilet and surrendered with as much grace as 
 possible. 
 
 The Hetfield gang, after binding and gagging the two offi- 
 cers, compelled Mrs. Herd to provide a repast, and while she 
 was thus engaged, "Pomp," a colored slave, was kept busy in 
 serving the party with apple whisky of a prime quality, and on 
 which Mr. Herd fondly doted. 
 
 After refreshing themselves the raiders bade their host 
 bring forth two of his best horses, and on these animals Colonel 
 Ogden and Captain Dayton were mounted for the long and hasty 
 ride to Staten Island, which they reached in safety. 
 
 RAHWAY IN THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 WHILE no battle of great consequence was fought in Rah- 
 way( then called Spanktown) during the eight years of 
 the Revolutionary War, the people of that patriotic vil- 
 lage neglected no opportunity of serving the patriot cause. The 
 place was frequently raided by the enemy from Staten Island 
 and Woodbridge, and the most prominent citizens carried off 
 as hostages. 
 
 The hardest battle in Rahway took place early in January. 
 1777, when General William Maxwell, with his Jersey brigade.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 113 
 
 came down from the Short Hills, and attacked a strong regi- 
 ment of British regulars posted there. 
 
 After a two hours' fight, the enemy was driven out of Rah^ 
 way in the direction of Woodbridge. 
 
 General Maxwell, feeling that he could not hold the place 
 in the event of an advance of the enemy from Woodbridge, took 
 possession of one thousand bushels of salt, a condiment sadly 
 needed by the American troops, and had scarcely loaded it on 
 wagons for transportation to our lines, when a large force sud- 
 denly came up from Woodbridge, necessitating the retreat of 
 the Americans to Elizabethtown, which was successfuly accom- 
 plished. 
 
 The winter of 1779-80 was one of awful severity. Snow 
 fell in January to a depth of five or six feet, while the waters 
 surrounding Staten Island were frozen so solid that the ice af- 
 forded better means of locomotion than the few unbeaten road' 
 ways. This ice-bridge made it easy for the British and tories on 
 Staten Island to cross and re-cross as inclination led them. 
 
 It was on Sunday night, January 30, that a small force of 
 mounted refugees (traitorous Jerseymen) crossed over from 
 Staten Island, and dashed into Rahway before their presence was 
 discovered. 
 
 Lieutenant Wynantz and eight privates who had been en- 
 trusted by Colonel Jaques with the protection of the village, 
 instead of attending to guard duty, were out on a sleigh-riding 
 excursion, and when the British commander learned a fandango 
 was in progress at Lindsley's corner, he and his party galloped 
 to the spot, and surrounding the hostelry, summoned the revelers 
 to surrender, which they did with as much grace as possible. 
 
 After the lieutenant and his men had been disarmed and 
 secured, the Britishers bade the musicians strike up, and, each 
 seizing a girl, went through a mazy waltz. 
 
 This concluded, the British officer thanked the young ladies 
 for the pleasure afforded, and securing the American soldiers 
 within their own handsome sleighs, the enemy drove away, leav- 
 ing the disappointed Rahway lasses to get to their homes the 
 best way they could. 
 
 Before daylight the American warriors crossed the sound 
 on the ice at Tremley's Point, and on the following day went on 
 to New York City, where their arrival created much amusement 
 among the British soldiers.
 
 1 14 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 HOW SOLDIER TRAPPED BANDIT. 
 
 WHILE the people of New Jersey were sorely tried during 
 the Revolutionary War by almost constant raids of 
 British soldiers and renegade Jerseymen who took re- 
 fuge on Staten Island, shortly after the landing there of the 
 British army in 1776, and greatly suffered by the loss of cattle 
 and movable property, their condition was scarcely worse than 
 that of the inhabitants in Monmouth and other counties along 
 the coast. 
 
 The pine-tree country especially was infested in those trou- 
 blous times by numerous bands of robbers, who lived in caves 
 burrowed in the side of the sand hills, as near swamps and in 
 such secluded spots as could be found. These caves, carefully 
 covered with brush, were scarcely discernible, even at a short 
 distance, while the trails leading to the retreats were disguised 
 as much as posible by the crafty robbers, who preyed upon rich 
 and poor alike. 
 
 The inhabitants, living in a constant state of terror, were 
 compelled, for their own safety, to go armed, whether at work 
 in the fields or at the house of worship. 
 
 The acts of these marauders at length became so numerous 
 and audacious that Governor Livingston offered large rewards 
 for their death or capture. During the last three years of the 
 war the desperadoes were hunted and shot like wild beasts, and 
 when peace was declared but few of the villains were alive, so 
 thorough had been the work of extirpation. 
 
 Among the more notorious villains who gloated in crime 
 was a fellow known as Fenton, a big strapping fellow, who in 
 his youth, learned the trade of a blacksmith in Freehold. When 
 the war broke out he quit honest work and organized a gang 
 which took refuge in the sand hills, near Red Bank. From this 
 covert he and his men sailed out at night for robbery and rapine 
 On one occasion Fenton robbed the shop of a tailor, carrying 
 away much apparel. Word was sent to Fenton that unless he 
 surrendered the stolen goods within a week, he would be shot 
 on sight. He complied, accompanying the return of the goods 
 with the following note : 
 
 "I have returned your damned rags. In a short time I 
 am coming to burn your barns and homes, and roast you all 
 alike as a pack of kittens." 
 
 It was in August, 1779, that Fenton and his gang attacked
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 115 
 
 the dwelling of Thomas Farr, near where Imlaystown now 
 stands. Mr. Farr and wife, both aged people, and a daughter 
 barricaded the door with logs of wood, and the gang being un- 
 able to force an entrance into the house, fired a volley of rifle 
 bullets, one of which wounded Mr. Farr, rendering him helpless 
 
 The gang finally gained entrance by a back door, and mur- 
 dered Mrs. Farr, then finished their fiendish work by beating 
 her husband to death as he lay upon the floor. The daughter, 
 although badly wounded, succeeded in getting away and reach- 
 ing the home of a neighbor, two miles distant. The murderers 
 fearing pursuit, incontinently fled, and in their haste to secure 
 safety, left the plunder behind. 
 
 Fenton, after perpetrating many enormities, and in making 
 his name a terror to people in South Jersey, was finally killed 
 near where Blue Belle is located. 
 
 Fenton and his confederate, Burke, beat and robbed a young 
 miller named Van Mater of his dinner while on his way to 
 work. Van Mater, although suffering from injuries received at 
 the hands of Fenton and Burke, made his way to Freehold, 
 where he reported the outrage to the commandant of a portion 
 of Lee's Legion, then on duty in that section. 
 
 The lieutenant at once detailed a sergeant and two soldiers 
 to accompany Van Mater, who was sure Fenton and Burke 
 were at a groggery, near where the assault took place. A 
 wagon was procured, on the bottom of which lay the two armed 
 soldiers, covered with hay, while the sergeant, acting as driver, 
 and Van Mater sat on the seat in front. 
 
 True enough, as the vehicle reached the groggery, Fenton 
 came out, pistol in hand, and ordered them to stop, saying to 
 Van Mater : "You damned rascal ! I gave you such a lickin' 
 I thought you would never agin show your head. Where are 
 you goin'?" 
 
 "To the salt works," was the reply. 
 
 "Have you got any brandy?" asked Fenton. 
 
 "Yes ! Will you have a drink ?" asked Van Mater, handing 
 him a bottle. 
 
 Fenton was in the act of taking a drink when the sergeant 
 touched the foot of a soldier, who sprang up and shot the des- 
 perado through the head, scattering it over the side of the 
 vehicle. 
 
 Burke, who was in the woods nearby, hearing the report of 
 the soldier's gun, and supposing it to be a signal from his pal. 
 discharged his rifle in answer.
 
 116 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 The sergeant and his men hastened in the direction of the 
 sound, and when Burke saw them approaching he took to his 
 heels, making good his escape. 
 
 The soldiers, returning to the wagon, threw Fenton's car- 
 cass into the vehicle and drove with all possible speed to Free- 
 hold, where they jerked out the corpse by the feet, as if it had 
 been a wild animal, and, throwing it upon the ground, said to 
 the crowd which had assembled: "Here is a cordial for you 
 tories and wood robbers." 
 
 GUNS AND POWDER IN REVOLUTION. 
 
 IT is not generally known that the active train of field artillery 
 possessed by the American colonies at the commencement 
 
 of the Revolutionary War consisted of but four guns. A 
 few weeks after the battle of Lexington, General Artemas Ward, 
 in assuming command of the Revolutionists, then besieging Bos- 
 ton, found only one six-pounder and half a dozen three-pound- 
 ers, all smooth-bores, in possession of his forces. Had not 
 Ethan Allen captured Fort Ticonderoga, with its 200 guns, the 
 siege of Boston and the battle of Breed's Hill (misnamed Bunker 
 Hill) would have been a miserable fiasco and a lamentable fail- 
 ure. It must have been painful and humiliating to General Gage, 
 the British commander, whenever he heard a Yankee gun in 
 that battle, to realize that it was his "own thunder." 
 
 While other colonies may have turned out revolutionary 
 cannon before the establishment of furnaces and foundries in 
 New Jersey, our commonwealth early in the war chiefly supplied 
 Washington's army with ordinance, and, I may add, powder as 
 well. This was done at Mt. Hope and Hibernia, in Morris 
 County, where the necessary materials were conveniently at 
 hand. 
 
 The first cannon constructed in New Jersey were iron and 
 of primitive pattern, owing to the difficulty of securing designs. 
 The first castings, made in Morris County, were moulded from 
 guns taken at Ticonderoga, and it was not until the beautiful 
 field pieces, some of them brass, surrendered by Burgoyne at 
 Saratoga, could be taken to Morris County that our people were 
 able to secure desirable models and turn out weapons more to 
 their liking. 
 
 One of the first guns cast at Mount Hope can now be seen
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 117 
 
 mounted on wheels near the old Presbyterian Church at Con- 
 necticut Farms. It was probably used for the first time in the 
 battle there June 7, 1780. 
 
 Our little army was in desperate straits for artillery when* 
 Washington was driven through New Jersey late in the fall of 
 1776, and the capture of six splendid field guns at Trenton 
 Christmas night gave the greatest cause for rejoicing to the 
 patriots. But their loss, with five other guns, at Brandywine 
 later on had a most depressing and disheartening effect on our 
 people. 
 
 While New Jersey may be said to have led the way in the 
 manufacture of field artillery, however crude in form and finish, 
 it can also be stated to the credit of its enterprising and patriotic 
 citizens that our commonwealth was the first to respond to 
 Washington's stirring appeal for a supply of gunpowder. It 
 was the great want of powder at Bunker Hill, more than any- 
 thing else, that caused the failure of our brave little army to 
 drive back the trained British host. 
 
 Strange as it may appear, the first supply of powder sent 
 to Washington, at Cambridge, was forwarded him by the ener- 
 getic Public Safety Committee of Elizabethtown. This was 
 purchased by the committee in Philadelphia, a round price being 
 demanded by the "patriots" of that town. This supply, fifty 
 quarter kegs, was brought to Elizabethtown in wagons, and 
 sent on by other teams, which went to Cambridge by way of 
 Dobbs' Ferry, over the Hudson River. Washington expressed 
 fervent thanks to the Elizabethown people for the "timely con- 
 tribution." 
 
 The Elizabethtown committee in July, 1775, to encourage 
 the manufacture of saltpeter and gunpowder, as well as to aid 
 the patriotic army, to whose interests it was devoted, publicly 
 offered to pay $1,000 for every 100 pounds of saltpeter made 
 within the town limits. This had the effect of promptly starting 
 the manufacture of that commodity, the old mill on South Broad 
 Street, on the left bank of the river, just below the Court House 
 which John Ogden, one of the first settlers, had erected there in 
 1665, being used for the purpose. 
 
 In less than two months after the battle of Bunker Hill 
 the Elizabethown committee forwarded to Washington nearly 
 seven tons of powder manufactured in the town, and received a 
 graceful letter of thanks from the commander-in-chief, who ex- 
 pressed the opinion that the arrival of the cargo had "immeasur- 
 ably revived the hopes of the army and relieved immediate press-
 
 118 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 ing necessities." When this supply reached Washington his 
 soldiers had but nine rounds each in their cartridge boxes. 
 
 This cargo of powder was conveyed to the army in wagons, 
 drawn by horses and oxen, nearly two weeks being consumed 
 in the long journey. To allay supicion on the part of the curi- 
 ously inclined, the kegs were well covered with grain and hay. 
 
 The odd-looking caravan, which reached Cambridge with- 
 out mishap, was joyfully hailed by the soldiers, as well as by 
 Washington and his officers, and during the brief sojourn of the 
 Elizabethtown farmer boys, they were the recipients of much 
 attention and manv courtesies from the soldiers. 
 
 HEROIC ACTION OF GRANDSON. 
 
 EASTERN NEW JERSEY, from the time the British landed 
 on the easterly shore of Staten Island to the end of the 
 war in 1783, suffered greatly from incursions of the British 
 troops and their willing allies, Americans who preferred the 
 rule of King George to the enjoyment of liberty and indepen- 
 dence. The tories, or renegades, or refugees, or loyal Americans, 
 as they liked to call themselves, took up arms against their 
 former neighbors, friends and kin. Some of them delighted in 
 annoying and robbing their relatives, but in no section of the 
 state were the atrocities so bad and numerous as in the county 
 of Monmouth, where families were so divided that fathers and 
 sons took different sides, and in some cases fought each other 
 to death. 
 
 The patriots of Monmouth County, from Freehold to the 
 coast, were in a constant state of alarm and terror, owing to the 
 large number of refugees who lived on the proceeds of their 
 crimes. Most of these murderers and robbers lived in caves bur- 
 rowed in the sand, while others found safety in dense swamps 
 and in the pine tree thickets. 
 
 I have already given chapters of bloody crimes committed 
 by some of the gangs infesting that region, and will supplement 
 them by narrating a murderous raid made by refugees and 
 negroes from Sandy Hook in April, 1780. The banditti landed 
 from boats at Shrewsbury, and plundered several houses. 
 
 The landing was made just after dusk, when some of the 
 raiders, natives of Shrewsbury and thoroughly acquainted with 
 the people and the country round about, repaired to the home 
 of William Russell, who attempted to defend his home and a
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 119 
 
 young grandson, who happened to be with him at the time. Mr. 
 Russell, although sixty years of age and quite infirm, opened 
 fire on the gang, which so enraged the attacking party that it 
 made a rush for the dwelling, and, bursting in the door, seized 
 the old man whom they were in the act of murdering, when 
 young Russell, who lay wounded upon the floor, raised himself 
 up and shot William Gillian, who had his grandfather by the 
 throat. John Farmham, like Gillian, a native of the village, then 
 aimed his musket at young Russell, but as the weapon was dis- 
 charged, Joshua Lippincott, one of the band, a relative of the 
 boy, knocked up the barrel and thus saved his life. 
 
 The gang, after seizing all the plunder they could take with 
 them, captured Captain Warner of the privateer brig "Eliza- 
 beth," who secured his release by giving the marauders two jugs 
 of rum. Other citizens, however, were not so fortunate, and 
 among those taken as prisoners were Captain James Green and 
 Ensign John Morris, of the militia, and several citizens. 
 
 DIED FOR THE CAUSE. 
 
 CAPTAIN JOSHUA HUDDY, who, during the Revolu- 
 tionary War, lived at what is now Colt's Neck, within five 
 miles of Freehold, in Monmouth County, was a daring 
 patriot, and gave his life for the cause of American liberty. He 
 performed many gallant acts during the war, and punished the 
 tories in that section at every opportunity. 
 
 During the summer of 1780 a large party of refugees landed 
 at Black Point, between Shrewsbury and Navesink rivers, and 
 made a desperate attack at night on his dwelling. The assailants 
 were commanded by a negro named Tye or Titus. Captain 
 Huddy and a servant-girl named Lucretia Emmons, age twenty 
 years, were the only occupants of the house. 
 
 Fortunately for Captain Huddy, several muskets had been 
 left in the house by the home-guard, generally on duty in the 
 vicinity, but who at the moment were absent at their homes, 
 and these the captain, with the aid of Miss Emmons, who kept 
 the weapons loaded, made good use of. Huddy, to deceive 
 the enemy, discharged the guns from different windows, convey- 
 ing the impression that the guards were assisting him in the 
 defense. Huddy wounded several of the gang, and at last 
 seriously wounded Tye in the arm, from the effects of which 
 he subsequently died. When wounded, Tye was in the act of set-
 
 120 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 ting fire to Huddy's home. Finding the flames gaining great 
 headway, and desirous of saving the life of the young woman 
 who had rendered great assistance, Huddy raised a white flag,. 
 and offered to surrender, providing the enemy would extinguisli 
 the flames and save his house from destruction. 
 
 The assailants were glad to comply with the request, but 
 on entering the habitation worked themselves into a state of 
 exasperation on finding the garrison consisted solely of Huddy 
 and the girl. 
 
 It was with great difficulty that Tye could restrain his gang 
 from murdering Huddy and Miss Emmons. Hearing of the 
 hurried approach of militiamen, Tye bade Miss Emmons leave the 
 place, then binding Huddy and collecting his cattle and sheep, the 
 party fled precipitately. The militiamen gave rapid pursuit, killing 
 six of the desperadoes and wounding several others. The stolen 
 cattle were recovered at the first creek, which Tye and his gang 
 hastily forded. 
 
 Tye and his gang had scarcely embarked in their boats 
 when the militiamen reached the bank and opened a destruc- 
 tive fire. Huddy, overjoyed at the appearance of his friends, 
 sprang into the water and swam ashore, thus escaping impris- 
 onment, if nothing worse. 
 
 In March, 1782, Huddy, in command of a block house at 
 Tom's River, found himself attacked by a large force of tories 
 from New York and Staten Island. He made a stubborn and 
 gallant resistance, fighting until his ammunition was exhausted, 
 when he reluctantly surrendered. Huddy was heavily ironed 
 and imprisoned on a British guard ship at Sandy Hook, while 
 his men were confined in the sugar house in New York City, 
 and not exchanged until the end of the war. 
 
 While confined on the ship Captain Huddy was told that 
 he was to be hanged for having captured Philip White, a noto- 
 rious tory in Monmouth County, cut off both his arms, pulled 
 out one of his eyes, broke his legs, damned him and then bid him 
 run. Huddy indignantly denied the allegation, saying he was 
 a prisoner in New York at the time, and had been for several 
 weeks before White was maltreated. Although his statement was 
 corroborated by several of his comrades, Huddy, four days 
 afterward (April 12) was taken by sixteen tories (some of them 
 former neighbors) commanded by Captain Lippincott, to the 
 seashore at the foot of Navesink Hills, a mile north of the pres- 
 ent Highland lighthouses, and deliberately executed. While 
 standing upon a barrel under a gallows made of three rails
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 121 
 
 placed on the beach, with a rope about his neck, Captain Huddy 
 asked for pen, ink and paper, and wrote his will, his handwriting" 
 being plainer than usual, so much composed was he in his last 
 moments on earth. 
 
 To the credit of some of the executioners be it said they 
 objected to the hanging, declaring it was their belief that Huddy~ 
 was an innocent man. Captain Lippincott, on learning this fact, 
 drew his sword and swore he would kill the first man who dis- 
 obeyed his orders. The mutineers were cowed, and Captain 
 Huddy's body soon dangled between earth and sky. 
 
 The next day the corpse was cut down, removed to Free- 
 hold, and buried with the honors of war, a large body of minute- 
 men attending. And this finished a brave man and determined 
 patriot. 
 
 ATTEMPTS TO CAPTURE GENERALS. 
 
 FROM time immemorial attempts have been made by ad- 
 venturous spirits to capture generals in time of war. The 
 first attempt of this kind in this country was in 1777, 
 just previous to the battle of Long Island, when, for British gold, 
 a number of so-called Americans, including a Continental soldier 
 named Thomas Hickey, conspired to seize and carry off General 
 Washington, who had his headquarters in New York City. The 
 nefarious plan failed, because a woman devoted to the cause of 
 American liberty, overheard the conspirators and was enabled to 
 thwart their designs. Hickey, who was on duty at Washington's 
 headquarters, and had been very active in furthering the scheme, 
 was tried, found guilty and hung. 
 
 The capture of General Prescott, a petty tyrant, commanding 
 the British force on Rhode Island, a month later than the Wash- 
 ington incident, was one of the most successful affairs of the kind 
 ever attempted. Prescott was one of the most tyrannical 
 commanders that England ever sent to this country. He was 
 of aristocratic birth and a favorite with George III. His over- 
 bearing and haughty manners, together with his lack of human 
 sympathy, so incensed Rhode Islanders against him that Lieuten- 
 ant-Colonel William Barton, a native of Providence serving in 
 the Continental Army, decided to attempt his capture, and thus 
 rid his friends at home of his unwelcome presence. 
 
 The British general, on reaching Rhode Island, had taken
 
 122 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 possession of the spacious house and grounds of a Quaker named 
 Overring, located five miles above Newport, and Colonel Barton, 
 having learned this fact, organized a party from his regiment, 
 and embarking in four whale boats, speedily crossed Narragan- 
 set Bay from Massachusetts, despite the presence of several 
 British frigates and guard-boats patroling the smooth waters. 
 Landing without detection, Colonel Barton and his men seized 
 and gagged the sentinels at the foot of the British general's 
 garden, and speedily gained his quarters. The tyrant, undressed 
 and in bed, supposing the intruders to be robbers, sprang out 
 and grabbed his gold watch hanging on the wall, instead of a 
 sword with which to defend himself, when the American leader 
 coolly told him he was a prisoner. The general begged per- 
 mission to put on his uniform, but the Yankee soldiers, having 
 no time to waste and the weather being warm, bade him throw 
 a cloak around him, saying he could make his toilet after reach- 
 ing the American lines across the bay. The boldness of the 
 act and its successful issue proved the theme of conversation in 
 the camps of both armies for a long time afterwards. Prescott 
 was kindly treated while in confinement, and on being exchanged 
 in the following spring, had a better opinion of the character and 
 ability of American soldiers. I regret to say that Prescott was 
 delivered in exchange for Major-General Charles Lee, of the 
 American Army, a traitor to Washington, who had allowed him- 
 self to be captured in 1776 in this State, where he was loitering 
 instead of going to the assistance of Washington, who had repeat- 
 edly sent him orders to hasten his march. Had Lee been held 
 by the British until the end of the war, which no true American 
 would have ever regretted, Washington would have won a more 
 brilliant victory at Monmouth, and Lee might have saved his 
 reputation as an Englishman who had been honored more than 
 he deserved by the American Congress. 
 
 When Washington ascertained that Benedict Arnold was 
 located in New York City he asked Major Harry Lee ("Light 
 Horse Harry"), who had one hundred and fifty New Jersey 
 farmer boys in his command, to send him a man who was com- 
 petent and willing to go to New York and attempt his capture. 
 Major Lee quickly made the selection that of John Champe, a 
 Virginia boy, who had been with him since his Legion was 
 formed. Champe, regarded as one of the best soldiers in the 
 army, was sergeant-major of the command, and a thorough drill- 
 master and tactician. He did not altogether like the proposi- 
 tion made to him bv his commander, because it necessitated
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 123 
 
 "desertion," a crime exceedingly repulsive to his patriotic in- 
 stincts. 
 
 Space here will not permit me to narrate the many intensely 
 interesting incidents connected with Champe's departure from 
 the quiet camp at midnight, nor of his lonely ride from Tappan, 
 nor tell of the pursuit by his comrade horsemen, who nearly cap- 
 tured him at what is now Communipaw, as he sprang from his 
 wearied horse, and waded through the salt marsh to the water, 
 where, fortunately for his undertaking, he was picked up by 
 British galleys patroling along the shore. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton, before whom he was promptly taken, in- 
 terrogated Champe at length, and becoming satisfied that it was a 
 sign of the disintegration of the patriot army, advised him to cali 
 upon Arnold, now a general in the King's Army and engaged in 
 the task of raising a command composed of loyalists and 
 deserters. 
 
 After much persuasion on the part of Arnold, who was fami- 
 liar with Champe's services, the latter acceded to the traitor's 
 request and became a member of the Legion. 
 
 After a few days Champe succeeded in delivering two let- 
 ters from Washington to correspondents in the city, who at once 
 agreed to aid him in the abduction of Arnold. The very day 
 Champe was to carry his plan into execution Arnold took pos- 
 session of other quarters to oversee the embarkation of troops 
 on an expedition, and that night, instead of rowing Arnold across 
 the Hudson River as a prisoner, Champe found himself on board 
 a British transport bound South. Landing in Virginia, he made 
 repeated attempts to escape but did not succeed until Arnold 
 formed a junction with Cornwallis at Petersburg, where he got 
 away, and tramping westwardly, reached the Blue Ridge Moun- 
 tains, where he remained until he learned of the approach of Lee's 
 horsemen (his old command), which he immediately joined in 
 South Carolina. His former comrades, surprised to again see 
 him, gave him a hearty welcome when they learned the true story 
 of his "desertion." 
 
 Years afterwards, when President Adams appointed Wash- 
 ington to the chief command of the army, the latter sent to 
 Colonel Lee for intelligence of Champe, having decided to appoint 
 him a captain in the army, but the gallant soldier had long since, 
 after removing to the wilds of Kentucky, slept the sleep that 
 knows no waking 
 
 During the Civil War there were several instances of like 
 character, perhaps the most exciting being the capture of General
 
 124 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Stoughton by Mosby and his rangers, and the attempt of the 
 same command to carry off Sir Percy Wyndham, colonel of the 
 famous First New Jersey Cavalry. In the case of Stoughton. 
 who was in bed in camp in the midst of his command, Mosby 
 with a few men, passing themselves off as the Fifth New York 
 Cavalry, entered the house where the general was soundly 
 sleeping. Awakened by a noise, and hearing Mosby's name 
 mentioned, he asked: "Have you got him?" 
 
 "He's got you," replied the imperturbable Mosby, and Stough- 
 ton, finding resistance useless, quietly accompanied the ranger 
 away.
 
 Historical Sketches of the Revolutionary 
 and Civil Wars. 
 
 PART II. THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 THE GREAT UPRISING IN '61. 
 
 NEARLY half a century has passed since the shot at the 
 starry banner on Sumter, heard 'round the world, 
 called to the field of bitter strife the young men who 
 saved our government from destruction and our beautiful 
 land from chaos. 
 
 Those who were permitted to take an active part in the 
 greatest conflict recorded in history, were bright-faced and in 
 the hey-day of youth, when, in response to the call of the 
 country, they left happy homes to battle for the preservation of 
 the best form of government ever vouchsafed to man. 
 
 The pen must ever glow when picturing the scenes in the 
 early part of 1861. From the cleft and burdened head of Jove 
 sprang forth Pallas, a perfect warrior. But from the burdened 
 Union, rent in twain, leaped forth, from every country lane, street 
 and avenue, not one, but thousands of our best and bravest 
 citizens, whose hurrying tread soon shook the earth, while 
 the air that had echoed only to the songs of birds, or the sounds 
 of commerce, resounded with the strains of martial music and 
 patriotic chorus, and new banners waved like leaves on the 
 trees of our forests, and gleaming bayonets flashed from' the rising 
 of the sun to the going down thereof. The volunteers who 
 thus nobly responded came from college, office, work-shop, farm, 
 mill and factory, as well as from the mines whose ores were 
 being delved to forge instruments of war, determined to lend 
 their best efforts in resisting the reckless men who were 
 striving to subvert the Nation's liberties. 
 
 Those who actively participated in that great strife, too well 
 remember the dark hours of that terrible and seemingly never-
 
 126 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 ending struggle for the perpetuity of the American Union. How 
 awful was the anxiety and anguish of that trying period ! The 
 seasons rolled on, year after year, in their varying and beauteous 
 course. But the beauty of the spring-time was lost in the re- 
 flection that many of our best and bravest comrades were melt- 
 ing away even as the snows of winter. The charm of summer 
 faded with the thought that loved ones were dropping under 
 the heat of battle. The loveliness of autumn cheered our weary 
 hearts only for a moment, while winter came to disturb blissful 
 sleep, bringing hunger, cold, prison, wounds and death. 
 
 The sun, since Time began, has looked upon no nobler deeds 
 than those we witnessed between 1861 and 1865, and good old 
 Mother Earth has bred no nobler men than those who fell beside 
 us in the cause of Liberty. They died gloriously, leaving their 
 heroic deeds, their principles, and their worthy example as a 
 heritage to their country and to posterity. By that curious 
 moral consanguinity which binds together men who have stood 
 shoulder to shoulder under fire, we are their next of kin, and so 
 become trustees of this rich heritage. 
 
 We live in times abounding with evil portents. The 
 public virtue shows conspicuous evidence of decay ; the dykes 
 which protect society and the State against the turbid tide? 
 of corruption and extravagance seem to be giving way; our 
 public and private life is disclosing spectacles of rottenness 
 at which we may well stand aghast. But if we are drifting 
 from the moorings of virtue and duty toward perilous mael- 
 stroms, let us remember that it is because the ship itself is unsea- 
 worthy. 
 
 The life of this nation the quality of our law and our gov- 
 ernment, are just what the people make them nothing more 
 nothing less. They are the source of all power; with them 
 rests absolutely the determination of the national character and 
 influence. If the people lose faith in themselves, or in the 
 principles of liberty, justice, integrity and fair play ; if they neg- 
 lect the performance of individual obligations and duties ; if they 
 permit the spring to be poisoned, either through neglect or indif- 
 ference, they cannot complain if the perverted and deadly tor- 
 rent sweeps them headlong into ruin. You cannot stay the 
 Mississippi where it sweeps with majestic flow to its massage 
 with the gulf, but far away among the firm hills, where it has 
 its source, you can gather all its waters into your palms and 
 divert them as you will. 
 
 If, then, we would restore the tone of the public morals :
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 127" 
 
 if we would make our public and private life pure, upright and 
 potent in all wholesome influences; if we would make our flag 
 honorable, because it represents a people strong in all the ele- 
 ments that help constitute a perfect manhood we must carry 
 with us everywhere as individuals that reverence for principle 
 and for essential ideas of polity, that allegiance to the right in 
 all its forms which animated and controlled us when danger 
 pressed, and our nation, stripped bare to the eye of God, lay 
 smitten in the dust, supplicating that favor which alone is per- 
 fect life. 
 
 If we continue to maintain freedom for every citizen of this 
 great Republic, and transmit the institutions we fought for, and 
 my brave comrades died to save, in all their vigor and purity, to 
 those who come after us, we shall have done all that is required, 
 and so proven true to the trust which we accepted by their death, 
 Then, when the coming years have passed us by, so swiftly 
 and silently that they have had to scatter snow upon heads that 
 are now whitened, and plow our faces with yet deeper furrows 
 to let us know that they were once with us in peril, it may be 
 permitted us to see through the twilight what others may not 
 see, the mighty spirits of dead comrades rising above their 
 ashes, where they fell, standing, like tall, heroic sentinels, to 
 guard our land from ill. 
 
 Let us hope that we shall have no more to do with war ; but 
 by the hour of our grief, by the memory of our dead, by the 
 never-ending sorrow of the living, for the honor of our country 
 and our dear flag, and for the sake of American manhood, let 
 us strive to keep this land the heritage of those who love Lib- 
 erty and free institutions. 
 
 Let me add that all remaining energies, all our talents, 
 should be used to perpetuate this, the happiest model of a gov- 
 ernment which enlightened man, in the fullest fruition of his 
 most cultivated powers ever erected to the genius of civiliza- 
 tion. Let us continue it the blessed asylum to which the 
 victims of oppression, as they look up from beneath the grind- 
 ing despotism of the old world, may turn their eyes with a new 
 hope, as the one bright clime where Freedom rears her crest 
 in full and free defiance, while each clustering star shall remain 
 in full, clear and cloudless majesty, brilliant and beautiful as 
 when first they beamed their morning splendor to illuminate 
 the world with a day-dream from on high.
 
 128 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 FAST AND LOOSE IN DIXIE; OR GENERAL DRAKE'S 
 LEAP FOR LIBERTY. 
 
 "Stone walls do not a prison make, 
 Nor iron bars a cage." 
 
 N that April morn in 1861, when the dread 
 tocsin sounded in response to the first 
 proclamation of President Lincoln, calling 
 for 75,000 volunteers, with 3,000 patriotic 
 New Jerseymen, in the flush of young 
 manhood, I raised the first company in my 
 native state, and hastened to the defense 
 of the Nation's Capital, then in supreme 
 danger, and for four long years, without 
 losing a day's duty, or missing a march 
 or battle, served my country in a cheerful 
 manner to the best of my ability. 
 I will not tax the reader's patience by attempting to describe 
 the numerous battles in which my regiment, the Ninth New 
 Jersey, engaged, nor the long and fatiguing marches we made 
 during that long period of time, but give a chapter or two from 
 my experiences in various prison-pens, and a brief account of a 
 tramp I made, accompanied by three companions, through three 
 states of the Southern Confederacy, from near Charleston, South 
 Carolina, to the Union lines at Knoxville, Tennessee, a distance 
 of nearly 1,000 miles, requiring seven weeks in the accomplish- 
 ment of the self-imposed task. 
 
 Captured with most of a company I had commanded for more 
 than a year, in the terrible conflict at Drewry's Bluff, which I 
 was first to assail, at an early hour on the morning of May 16, 
 1864, by a brigade of Alabamians, led by General Archie Grade, 
 whom I had known in my boyhood, I was, with the portion of 
 my command, which had been unable to escape, promptly es- 
 corted over the gory field, to the wharf under the frowning bat- 
 tlements of impregnable Fort Darling, which grimly overlooked 
 the majestic James River, at a height of nearly two hundred feet. 
 Two hours afterwards myself and sorrowing companions 
 disembarked from a gunboat at Rockett's Wharf in Richmond, 
 where a mob had gathered to witness our arrival. The tumultu- 
 ous crowd of stay-at-homes, who had been in fear all the week, 
 had evidently gained courage on hearing no further sounds of
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 129 
 
 the battle which had been in progress since daybreak seven miles 
 below the Confederate Capital, as we were greeted with hoots, 
 jeers and cat-calls. 
 
 A short walk brought us to a large brick building, in rear 
 of which tranquilly flowed the James River and the ever placid 
 Kanawha Canal. Over a low door in the northeastern corner 
 of this carefully guarded structure I read the ominous sign: 
 ''Libby & Son, Ship Chandlers and Grocers," and my heart be- 
 came sorely disquieted, as I knew that thousands of noble and 
 patriotic Union soldiers who had entered the yawning portal 
 had left hope behind when the iron-clad door swung to with an 
 alarming clang at their heels. 
 
 I will not dwell on the wretched condition of our prisoners 
 during their captivity. Their sad fate is the theme of story and 
 of song, and none but the callous-hearted refuse to drop a tear 
 to their memory. 
 
 After registering in this uninviting hostelry, "Dick" Tur- 
 ner, the heartless keeper, unlike any hotel clerk I had ever before 
 met, relieved us of whatever valuables we had not been stripped 
 of on the battle-field, greenbacks and jewelry being especially 
 preferred. Turner, however, sought to relieve our minds by 
 giving assurance that the articles thus taken would be returned 
 on our departure. But our keeper had a bad memory, and we 
 lost our deposits. 
 
 Besides retaining our treasure, Turner showed utter unfit- 
 ness to entertain gentlemen, and one of his characteristics was 
 to serve a very poor bill of fare. It was the same menu day after 
 day, when he didn't forget his guests entirely, which he fre- 
 quently did. I might add that none of Turner's boarders were 
 afflicted with gout. 
 
 At an early hour one morning in June, when the sweet 
 music of General Grant's guns was thundering through the Wil- 
 derness, and we were confidently expecting to see our cavalry 
 dashing up and surrounding our prison-house, we were rudely 
 awakened by Turner and his unceremonious guards, hustled 
 into the street, and hurried across the Mayo Bridge to Man- 
 chester, where we embarked on a train of filthy cattle cars. 
 
 One thousand of our enlisted men, mere wrecks of them- 
 selves, scarcely able to stand, much less walk, joined us here. 
 They came from Belle Isle, a low-lying sand bar in the middle 
 of the James River, where they had nearly perished from cold 
 and hunger. Then we started on a long and fatiguing ride 
 towards the Gulf the officers for Macon, Georgia, the enlisted
 
 130 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 men for Andersonville. Five-sixths of the latter never left that 
 hell-spot. 
 
 Soon after my incarceration at Macon, plans to escape were 
 formed, the consideration of which relieved us from ennui, if 
 nothing further was gained. At Macon and Savannah tunnel- 
 ing projects requiring indomitable resolution and painful labor 
 were cheerfully entered upon, and tireless efforts put forth to 
 achieve success. Our labors proved futile. Mountains of diffi- 
 culty were overcome by men whose souls aspired to breathe the 
 air of freedom ; but treachery generally accomplished the ruin 
 of promising projects, and adverse fate paralyzed the strong 
 arms which were ever ready to execute noble purposes. If our 
 keepers failed in their vigilance to detect our enterprising exca- 
 vations, some detestible comrade (?) with a greed for Confeder- 
 ate favors would convey to them information of our operations 
 More than once during that long and never-to-be-forgotten 
 summer did I work through seemingly interminable night in 
 digging tunnels, and skulk to the space alloted me in the pen 
 just as daybreak came peeping in, with my hands bleeding and 
 my strength exhausted, only to find in the end that some con- 
 temptible poltroon had treacherously betrayed our plans. 
 
 At Macon eighteen hundred commissioned officers cele- 
 brated the Fourth of July as they had never done before. While 
 the Confederate guards were engaged in the usual morning count 
 to ascertain whether all were present my gallant comrade, Cap- 
 tain Harry H. Todd, of the Eighth New Jersey, took from his 
 pocket-book a miniature silk American flag given him by a 
 young lady of Jersey City, and holding it above his head, waved 
 it at the Confederates. The excitement following beggars des- 
 cription. The Confederate officers made attempts to capture the 
 tiny flag, but they could not force themselves to where the Cap- 
 tain stood. Then army songs were sung as never before, and 
 speeches followed. All in all, it was the most exciting Fourth I 
 ever experienced. 
 
 When the yellow-fever reached its worst stage in Septerv 
 ber, we were transported from Savannah to Charleston myself 
 and others being thrown into the jail-yard. 
 
 In the jail-yard I was afforded delectable accommodations 
 at the foot of the scaffold, with a spot of earth three feet by six. 
 and here I was compelled to remain during the long and dreary 
 days and nights, with no covering save the star-spangled firma- 
 ment. The black hole of Calcutta, or the sugar-house in New 
 York during the occupancy of that city by the British in the
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 131 
 
 War of the Revolution, could not have been more uninviting 
 places than the jail-yard at the time I occupied an infinitesimal 
 space within its high and gloomy brick walls. The almost con- 
 stantly bursting shells from the "Swamp Angel," which sent its 
 screaming compliments to us, had some terrors, but they sunk 
 into insignificance when the dangers from "Yellow-Jack" were 
 considered. The Charleston jail-yard was a noisome spot a 
 fetid place a circumscribed world. 
 
 My thoughts weighed heavily upon me during my cap- 
 tivity, but never so painfully as at Charleston, where I had no 
 diversion, even tunneling being out of the question. I had no 
 correspondence with my family or friends, and was profoundly 
 ignorant of events transpiring in the outer world. A newspaper 
 or a book would have been a friend to consult, or an adversary 
 to combat; but I was shut out from all that was light and joy 
 and brightness, and forced to live with my bitterest enemy 
 Thought. And how oppressive was that feeling which continu- 
 ally spoke to me of my desperate and forlorn condition. 
 
 Early in October rumors prevailed that we were to be 
 removed to another point, and believing an opportunity for 
 -escape would present itself I invited three friends Captain 
 Harry H. Todd, 8th New Jersey; Captain Alfred Grant, 19th 
 Wisconsin, and Captain J. E. Lewis, llth Connecticut to join 
 me in an attempt to regain the freedom we ardently coveted, 
 and for which we had repeatedly toiled. Providentially, we 
 found a portion of an old map of South Carolina, and after care- 
 fully studying it, quickly decided upon a plan of action. 
 
 Next morning, October sixth, six hundred of our number 
 were marshalled and marched to the railroad station, where we 
 took passage on dilapidated cars attached to a rickety, wheez- 
 ing, wood-burning locomotive. As our long train passed slowly 
 along the outskirts of the pestilential city, we saw a camp on 
 the old race-course, filled with the most wretched looking beings 
 it ever fell to my lot to look upon. They were Union soldiers, 
 prisoners of war. 
 
 The condition of these once bright-faced and stalwart young 
 men was pitiable in the extreme. Although we were greatly 
 distressed, many of us in rags, covered with filth and active and 
 ver-present vermin, and half starved, others unable to stand or 
 walk on account of scurvy, yet our hearts went out to those 
 brave men, thus huddled together, in the open air, with nothing 
 save the ground for a bed and the blue-vaulted canopy for a 
 covering.
 
 132 
 
 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Myself and three companions having matured plans for 
 flight, all that remained was to put them into execution. Dur- 
 ing the day I had taken the precaution to remove the percussion 
 caps from the muskets of the seven armed Confederate guards 
 who bore us company in the box-car. I did this to prevent the 
 guards from firing in the excitement attending our leap from 
 the train. 
 
 The shades of night 
 were enveloping the earth 
 as our train reached the 
 long wooden structure 
 spanning the Congaree 
 River, a short distance 
 above its confluence with 
 the swift-flowing Watteree 
 and it seemed as if it would 
 never reach the opposite 
 bank so great was our 
 anxiety to make a bold 
 stroke for Freedom and 
 "God's country," a term by 
 which all prisoners desig- 
 nated the North. It would 
 be useless to affirm that my mind at this critical moment was 
 calm and serene, or that I had no misgivings as to what the 
 result of our frightful leap might be. But the intense excite- 
 ment into which our minds had been thrown the resolve to 
 seek home and friends and liberty overcame the sense of peril, 
 and the instant Captain Todd gave the signal we each sprang 
 from the swiftly-moving car, and, for the time at least, were 
 free. 
 
 We had no leisure after reaching terra firma to reflect upon 
 the terrors of our new situation. Fortune so far had favored us 
 this was sufficient. But those rifle flashes (we could not hear 
 the reports, so distant was the train) warned us that if we would 
 have perfect freedom much remained to be done and done 
 quickly. 
 
 It was while contemplating the necessity of entering a dark 
 and forbidding-looking cypress swamp to escape our enemies 
 that we heard the rush and roar of an approaching storm. The 
 trees set up a mournful howling, while the winds shrieked as if 
 under the influence of a demon. They were merely the pre- 
 cursors of the fearful night through which we were compelled
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 133 
 
 to pass. As we dashed into the swamp, veiled with Cimmerian 
 darkness, we encountered danger from falling branches and 
 uprooted trees. While the tornado was a huge terror, it was 
 nothing compared to the dread we had for the fierce dogs now 
 on our trail, and those whose excited voices we could hear on 
 the edge of the swamp men who were seeking our recapture. 
 
 It was only after gaining the covert of the swamp which 
 lined the right bank of the Watteree River that I reflected upon 
 the manifold dangers I had just escaped, upon the many chances 
 of fortune which had turned out favorably for me, and upon the 
 liberty I had panted for and was beginning to enjoy. 
 
 The swamp we had hastily entered was not such a resort 
 as gentlemen of leisure on a pleasure excursion would have 
 selected ; on the contrary, it was a very disagreeable refuge, as 
 we could find no ground on which to tread no place to sit or 
 recline to rest our weary bodies the water and mud being quite 
 deep to say nothing about venomous reptiles we encountered 
 on every hand. 
 
 But the fierce baying of dreaded blood-hounds and the 
 hoarse voices of our excited human pursuers, which we heard 
 all through the long night, admonished us to submit to every 
 discomfort rather than endanger our highly-prized freedom. 
 
 Convinced that the water through which we waded had 
 destroyed the trail, and that so long as we remained in our 
 present position the dogs would be unable to reach our hiding- 
 place, we studiously avoided all conversation during the night 
 and following day, remaining perfectly quiet. 
 
 When the long tiresome day had drawn to a close a 
 bright new moon rose to cheer us in our loneliness, and feeling 
 our pursuers had departed from our immediate vicinity, we cau- 
 tiously made our way to the edge of the swamp, which -we found 
 to be bordered by a plantation. We held our breath as we lis- 
 tened for human sounds, and finding everything as still as a vil- 
 lage graveyard, emerged from cover, and, skirting the river's 
 bank, promptly pushed forward in our flight. 
 
 Before leaving Charleston we had taken the precaution to 
 place pieces of raw onions in our boots, having been advised so 
 to do by a Tennessee captain, who assured us it would effectually 
 destroy the scent of our footsteps, and thus deprive the dogs of 
 the agencies which nature had afforded them in hunting human 
 "beings. The moon, of tender age, was a great accommodation 
 to us in our pilgrimage, enabling us to make rapid headway, 
 and to steer clear of anything resembling a habitation. But the
 
 134 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 silvery rays disappeared before midnight, leaving the countless 
 stars to guide and cheer us on our dangerous journey. 
 
 Towards daybreak, being weary, we halted for a needed rest 
 and shortly after resuming our tramp reached a broad highway 
 where we found a mile-stone, marked "27 to C." Having no 
 desire to visit Columbia, whither our comrades had gone the 
 day before, we hastily struck off towards the river, and had pro- 
 ceeded but a short distance when a pack of ferocious dogs came 
 bounding after us. A long run enabled us to evade the savage 
 brutes, but while congratulating ourselves upon our narrow 
 escape, we suddenly ran almost directly upon three men standing 
 near a saw-mill. 
 
 Darting into an adjacent swamp, we managed to elude our 
 pursuers, despite the difficulties we encountered chief of which 
 was a swiftly-running stream of water. This we were enabled 
 to cross on a big tree that time had prostrated, and into the 
 depths of a dense jungle we plunged. Serpents of various kinds 
 finally compelled us to seek safety on the trunk of a huge 
 monarch, whose usefulness old age and infirmity had destroyed. 
 We remained on that tree trunk all day, and had great trouble 
 in finding our way out of the swamp after the sun went down. 
 That evening we had a splendid repast on sweet potatoes, a few 
 of which we found in a patch near by. 
 
 Before the lapse of a week, however, we met with a terrible 
 misfortune in the loss of our cooking utensils, knives, forks 
 spoons, towel, several boxes of matches, etc. The rations with 
 which we had provided ourselves before starting having been 
 eaten, we sought sustenance in corn-fields, swamps and woods, 
 and early one morning were enjoying a feast near a sweet potato 
 patch we had visited when a party of horsemen came galloping 
 furiously towards us. We had not anticipated danger in so 
 lonely and secluded a spot, and perhaps were a little careless in 
 our movements. But self-preservation being nature's first law. 
 and having no weapons of defense, we sprang intuitively to our 
 feet and darted in an opposite direction, leaving most of our 
 necessities behind articles that were indispensable to our needs. 
 We had some consolation for their loss in our continued safety, 
 but were greatly inconvenienced thereafter for the want of a 
 knife and a utensil in which to cook whatever we found to cook 
 
 While dangers of greater or less magnitude constantly sur- 
 rounded us from start to finish, they were as nothing compared 
 to the question of subsistence, which soon began to grow un- 
 pleasantly urgent, and at length became so desperate that it
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 135 
 
 looked as if we should be driven to seek food at the houses of 
 the planters, a proceeding we had solemnly sworn not to do 
 under any circumstances, as we knew we should receive from 
 them neither food nor mercy. 
 
 For several days we wandered along the outskirts of fields, 
 diligently seeking corn, occasionally finding a stray ear, which 
 spurned by a ravenous appetite, we managed to masticate, the 
 process ruining our teeth. In camp and on marches we had 
 many a time anathematized government hard-tack, and de- 
 claimed against contractors' beef, but now, crouching in dismal 
 swamps through the long days, we would have relished the 
 substantial fare, which, in hours of plenty, we had so execrated. 
 
 But with all our troubles and they were manifold we con- 
 tinued to press on through the dreary days and tedious nights, 
 oftentimes hiding, determined to again reach home, however 
 great the risk. 
 
 Often and again, when upon the verge of starvation, we 
 were strongly inclined to visit the cabins of negroes, in whom 
 we then had almost absolute faith, but despite this, as often beat 
 back the tempter (our stomachs), and refused to jeopardize our 
 situation until certain we could find some one in whom to repose 
 trust, and with it our lives. 
 
 We did not make a serious attempt to seek help from the 
 slaves until we reached a point two hundred and fifty miles from 
 Charleston, where, one afternoon, we found a number at work 
 in a field. We experienced no difficulty in satisfying the darkies 
 that we were Yankee officers escaping from bondage, and as 
 soon as darkness fell they hastened to our hiding-place, and 
 either brought us edibles or piloted us to their lowly cabins 
 displaying the utmost delight at our presence. After this experi- 
 ment we did not hesitate in seeking them out. 
 
 There was something almost royal in the cheerfully-ren- 
 dered services of these poor creatures, who seemed to look upon 
 us as in some way sufferers for their sake, and they fairly loaded 
 us with kindnesses oftentimes insisting upon our accepting the 
 last pound of their meal. They also gave us information as to 
 the whereabouts of Confederate soldiers, and the best route to 
 the mountains, for which we were aiming. When we parted 
 they invariably bestowed heartfelt blessings. 
 
 One beautiful moonlight night, when on the verge of star- 
 vation, being too weak to continue our journey, we determined 
 to risk a visit to some negro shanties, to obtain, if possible, palat- 
 able food, of which we stood in great need, having for a day or
 
 136 
 
 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 two past subsisted on swamp berries of insipid taste. While 
 sitting near a broad, smooth roadway, debating as to the best 
 
 and safest course to pur- 
 sue, we saw an object slow- 
 ly approaching. When di- 
 rectly opposite, we rose 
 from our hiding-place in 
 the bushes and confronted 
 the visitor, who proved to 
 be a very aged negro. On 
 his left arm was suspended 
 a large basket, which, on 
 examination, we found 
 contained an immense 
 "pone," as all Southerners 
 denominate loaves of 
 bread. The old man was 
 naturally surprised when 
 we relieved him of that 
 bread, and tearing it in 
 pieces, began to devour it in a ravenous manner. When informed 
 that we were Yankee army officers escaping from Charleston, the 
 aged midnight stroller indulged in saltation exercises that would 
 have been creditable to our modern athletes, giving vent to the 
 great joy he felt by religious exclamations, which constantly es- 
 caped him. Before we bade him farewell he supplied us with a 
 quantity of cornmeal and some salt, of which we had long stood 
 in sad need, having had no salsamentarious food since leaving the 
 prison-yard. Myself and companions regarded the appearance 
 of the white-haired old man as a Providential dispensation. 
 
 We had another remarkable adventure at a late hour one 
 night near Dallas, North Carolina. Breathless from a long 
 chase by some horsemen, we sat down in a dense woods to 
 regain strength, and while thus engaged heard a man and 
 woman approaching, both singing from the depths of their lungs. 
 Taking it for granted they were negroes, we concluded to invite 
 their assistance, and when the couple reached us we stopped 
 them. The female, with a yell of terror, ran off like a frightened 
 deer, while the man, in a voice that betrayed no nervousness, 
 asked who we were and what we wanted. His voice satisfied us 
 that he was a white man, and the click of a pistol gave evidence 
 of his ability to defend himself. 
 
 Necessarily we resorted to conventional strategy, putting
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 137 
 
 and answering questions with the utmost wariness, all the time 
 wishing we had let him alone. It required but a brief time, how- 
 ever, to discover the status of the stranger, and probably he had 
 never been embraced before with the vehement warmth we dis- 
 played when we learned that he was a Loyalist, a firm friend of 
 the American Union. He insisted upon our visiting his home, 
 two miles away, which we did by following a path in the woods, 
 thus avoiding mounted patrols which continually scoured the 
 country. 
 
 His amiable wife, who had awaited his return, speedily pre- 
 pared an excellent supper the first square meal we had had in 
 six months to which you may well imagine we each did the 
 fullest justice, the smiles and kindly words of our hostess season- 
 ing the rich repast. That night, sitting before a cheerful blaze 
 of that noble North Carolinian's great hearth, he told us the 
 story of the loyalty of the people in the western section of the 
 state, proving to us that Freedom still had brave defenders 
 among the hardy foresters of the "Old North State." 
 
 When the rising sun, dazzling and radiant, shot suddenly 
 golden beams of light, we were several miles beyond Dallas 
 our brave and genial host, C. C. Withers, an ex-member of the 
 legislature, having accompanied us some distance, and after 
 directing us to other Unionists, he disappeared in the deep sha- 
 dows of the woods which surrounded us. 
 
 We resumed our pilgrimage with lighter hearts and nimbler 
 feet, notwithstanding our boots were fast giving out, owing to 
 the hard usage to which they had been subjected. Long before 
 we reached the roaring Catawba River, at the foot of the moun- 
 tains, I was compelled to walk bare-footed, and much as I then 
 suffered, it was no comparison to what I underwent after reach- 
 ing the over-towering and cloud-reaching hills. 
 
 At sunrise one lovely morning, while making our way 
 through a pine woods, endeavoring to give a wide berth to the 
 town of Morganton, a rendezvous for Confederate conscripts, 
 we were almost paralyzed to discover, but a few yards away, and 
 directly in our course, a noble-looking Confederate officer in full 
 uniform, mounted upon a fine horse. In his saddle-holsters were 
 heavy revolvers, and at his side, a glittering sabre. A retrograde 
 movement on our part would have been useless, and we instinc- 
 tively halted as the handsome cavalier confronted us. Pity was 
 depicted in his every look. He asked no questions, but directed 
 us to the best point for crossing the river, and after handing us 
 a large-sized plug of tobacco, he sank spurs into the magnificent
 
 138 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 animal he gracefully bestrode, and in a moment had disappeared 
 from our view. That officer evidently recognized us as escap- 
 ing Union prisoners, and hadn't the heart to bar our way to lib- 
 erty. 
 
 We hastened on, and late in the afternoon stood upon a high 
 bluff overlooking the rushing waters of the mighty river, which, 
 with the means at hand, required two days' time to cross. 
 
 Discovering apple trees in a field far below, we descended 
 and picked what fruit we could find, and while thus engaged, saw 
 several men on the opposite side of the river, hastening to the 
 bank, where we had observed a small boat moored. We hurriedly 
 left that vicinity, but with the aid of dogs our presence was dis- 
 covered at midnight, and we again took to our heels and ran till 
 daybreak. 
 
 The country about there seems to have been fully aroused, as 
 early that morning and throughout the day we saw parties of 
 armed men and dogs in various directions, acting in an excited 
 manner. Towards the close of the day, however, we managed 
 to again reach the river unobserved, by crawling through high 
 dry weeds extending from the woods to the water, and were 
 made inexpressibly happy soon after by discovering a large flat- 
 boat, fastened to a tree, lying a few yards up stream. It required 
 much skill to guide and propel the unwieldy craft across the swift- 
 running current, but we successfully accomplished the task, and 
 shortly after had the satisfaction of witnessing its destruction 
 among the rocks a few hundred yards below. The Catawba was 
 the most serious obstacle in the water line we had to contend with. 
 and we were devoutly thankful in being so successful in accom- 
 plishing its passage. 
 
 We had scarcely turned our backs upon the river ere the sky 
 became overcast with dense black clouds, and early in the even- 
 ing a heavy rain-storm came up adding greatly to our discom- 
 forts. Seeing a light in a small cabin in the wilderness we 
 sought refuge from the elements. The occupant of the hut, a 
 white woman, surrounded by half-a-dozen small children, said 
 she had no accommodations, nor any food. The poor, friend- 
 less creature, however, had one solace the snuff she continually 
 rubbed on her teeth with a well-worn stick. 
 
 As we left the desolate habitation the storm increased in vio- 
 lence; the thunder broke along the luminous sky, and the light- 
 ning seemed to rent it in twain. It was mighty and beautiful; 
 a strange, rushing wind came with it, bending the trees as though 
 they were saplings. We were mute and frightened before the- 
 terrific grandeur of the warring elements.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 139 
 
 In our slow and painful progress we stumbled over fallen 
 trees, ran against obstructions, and pitched into water-filled 
 excavations. The woods being illumined by flashes of light- 
 ning, we at length discovered a number of small log houses. It 
 seemed like a village of the dead, so solemn was the silence which 
 pervaded the place. A reconnoissance satisfied us that it was 
 an old camp-meeting ground, and we immediately entered a 
 cabin, built a fire and held service by drying our apparel. Shortly 
 afterwards an old sow and a litter of pigs ran by, and half an 
 hour after three of the piggies were broiling over a blaze in the 
 chimney. Although we had no knife to sever the parts or salt 
 to season the meat, we enjoyed a hearty meal, climbed into the 
 bunks and slept serenely till late next morning. 
 
 We now entered upon that vast elevated region which forms 
 the Southern division of the Appalachian mountain system, con- 
 stituting the culminating point in the Atlantic barrier of the 
 American continent. We were at the gate of the land through 
 which runs the chain of the Roan, Bald, Mitchell and Great 
 Smoky Mountains, separating Western North Carolina from 
 Eastern Tennessee. But we little dreamed of the dangers we 
 should still meet with, or of the great distance to be traversed, 
 or of the increased hunger and terrible privations we should yet 
 suffer. 
 
 Our route lay through the mountain forest, and, conse- 
 quently, we caught, from time to time, exquisite views of the 
 lofty summits. The precipitous hills rendered traveling diffi- 
 cult and fatiguing. Still, we went on, climbing up and up 
 ever climbing the prospect growing more and more dreary 
 step by step. Great mists moved lightly overhead, and now 
 and then some monarch of the great ranges in our front had 
 his lofty brow wrapped in the delicate embrace of white clouds, 
 which trembled into fantastic shapes of smoke-wreaths and cas- 
 tles and towers, and sometimes took the contour of the moun- 
 tains themselves. There was no road or beaten path to follow. 
 But how delicious the sunlight on the tree-stems through the 
 glades of that wild forest! How delicate the green mosses 
 clothing the trunks of the fallen monarchs! How crystal and 
 sweet the water which we found and drank from the foamy 
 brooks ! 
 
 After flanking the town of Lenoir, county seat of Caldwell, 
 we accidentally and providentially fell in with a member of 
 the numerous Estes family, a stalwart Unionist, who escorted us 
 to a commodious cave between two great hills, where we found
 
 140 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 a number of deserters from the Confederate army, together with 
 several refugees. These men welcomed us with open arms, for 
 there was a sort of kinship between us which made us at once 
 the strongest friends. It was in this section that we became 
 associated with many of these brave and hardy mountaineers, 
 and had from their lips the story of their present life, which was 
 full of peril and sublime heroism. 
 
 These men were associated with another class called "lyers- 
 out," who lived in caves and other retreats, and who had resisted 
 or evaded the conscription all the years of the war a period to 
 them and their families of vicissitude and suffering. In all my 
 wanderings I never saw more determined men ; and, mingling 
 among them, I thought of the brave defenders of the Tyrol, 
 of the hardy Waldenses, fighting and dying among their native 
 hills for dear liberty's sake. Most of the noble fellows whom we 
 thus met on the mountains of Western North Carolina were, be- 
 fore the war, in comfortable circumstances, owning pleasant and 
 profitable farms, but now all were reduced to want, most of them 
 illy clad and penniless. I saw men in this region who, com- 
 pelled to abandon everything because of their devotion to the 
 government and the Union of their forefathers, had not dared 
 to cross their own door-sills, although almost daily they had seen 
 their homes from their hiding-places in the dense forests and 
 among the mountains they loved so well. 
 
 While thus exiled in enforced idleness, their brave, true- 
 hearted and devoted wives performed every drudgery, working 
 the little farms, and often at the dead hour of night, at the hazard 
 of their lives, carrying food and other necessaries to the refugees, 
 in whose well-being they were so warmly interested. A volume 
 would be needed, were I to rehearse the tales of suffering and 
 the narratives of irregular warfare practiced on these people. 
 
 The women whom I met upon the mountains of Western 
 North Carolina and Eastern Tennessee, while constantly sur- 
 rounded by terrible dangers, and often caused to suffer, were as 
 heroic as any whose deeds are recorded in our country's annals. 
 In every age and clime woman has proved herself the good angel 
 sent by Heaven to alleviate human misery. In the depths of 
 the African jungles Mungo Park would have perished but for 
 the sympathy and generous assistance of the dusky maidens who 
 ministered to his necessities. 
 
 We had but little difficulty in persuading a hundred and 
 more loyal North Carolinians to accompany us on our journey 
 to the Union lines, wherever they might be, reaching which we
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 141 
 
 promised to use our influence in procuring them arms, ammuni- 
 tion, clothing, etc., and with but little hesitation they bade their 
 wives and little ones farewell, and started. 
 
 Their wives would pray for them, they said, and if they 
 were fortunate enough to procure the needed articles, they would 
 return and be able to protect their homes, and put an end to the 
 atrocities which had been prevalent in that section for several 
 years. How the weather-beaten faces of these men glowed 
 under the inspiration of that thought! How fondly the little 
 hands of their children clung around the necks of these self-sacri- 
 ficing mountaineers in the solemn and, perchance, lasting part- 
 ing, and how anxious were their noble wives that they might 
 be successful in obtaining the ardently-desired supplies. 
 
 A fatiguing march of two days brought us to the summit 
 of Grandfather Mountain, which holds its head more than 6,000 
 feet above the sea. Here we found the family of a Baptist 
 clergyman named Prickett. These good people, despite their 
 wretchedness, extended a kindly welcome, bidding us make 
 ourselves as comfortable as the limited capacity of the rudely- 
 constructed log cabin allowed. Most of our party, however, 
 continued on to what was called the "Rock-House," simply a 
 huge boulder, under which Mr. Prickett and his two sons had 
 often found refuge when sought for by Confederates. Mrs. 
 Prickett regretted she had nothing of the meat kind with which 
 to regale us, but shortly afterwards "Sim" Philyaw, a noted 
 Union scout, arrived with a young black bear he had killed near 
 the old saw-mill below. This was a grateful surprise to all. 
 Myself and three companions ate heartily of Bruin's savory 
 parts, the first bear meat I had ever tasted, and made our way to 
 the place of refuge, where we passed a terrible night, owing to 
 a severe snow-storm, which set in early in the evening. 
 
 When day at length broke the .ground was covered with 
 fleecy flakes to the depth of several inches, and my heart almost 
 failed me as I remembered that I was without covering for my 
 feet, my boots having long since become useless ; that I had no 
 hat ; that my thin blouse was in tatters ; that my red flannel 
 shirt, which I had worn more than six months without a change, 
 was threadbare, and that my trousers reached but to my knees. 
 I feared I must now certainly perish, so intense was the cold 
 which had set in in earnest, so biting was the blast which swept 
 the mountain. 
 
 The prospect before us was not pleasant to contemplate. In 
 an inhospitable waste, thousands of feet above the sea's level,.
 
 142 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 with a tempest raging, hungry and almost naked, with three- 
 score men, comparative strangers, at one time enemies, whose 
 condition was but little better than my own, hundreds of miles 
 still to be traversed, giddy heights to be ascended, dangerous 
 rivers to be crossed, and the ever present fear of recapture, be- 
 fore we could reach the haven of our heart's fondest desires, 
 rendered our situation anything but inviting. 
 
 Our guides were not in the most amiable mood when day 
 broke, and my worst fears were realized when they informed us 
 that it would be impossible to proceed until the storm abated 
 until no trail would be left of our march. We appealed to them 
 :to make another start, and were profuse in our promises of good 
 things we would buy for them on reaching our lines, but for 
 .several hours they were obdurate, and refused to move. Mean- 
 time, they kept a huge fire blazing under the edge of the rock. 
 This was the only cheerful thing on that mountain. 
 
 After the noon hour, however, they were persuaded to 
 resume the journe'y, which increased my sufferings more than 
 tongue or pen can tell. My companions pitied me and had 
 great solicitude, but they could do nothing to ameliorate my 
 condition. Just before night we were joined by Major E. A. 
 Davis, of the Third North Carolina Mounted Infantry (Union) 
 Regiment, who was on the mountain looking for recruits. With 
 his Henry rifle, a six-shooter, and a heavy navy revolver, he was 
 a valuable acquisition to our party, as he supplied us with bear, 
 wild hogs and, occasionally, a turkey. 
 
 , It was while making our weary way across this trackless 
 waste that a desperate engagement occurred between a company 
 of Confederates, under Captain Hartley, and a small band of 
 Unionists, commanded by his brother. Lieutenant James Hart- 
 ley, of the Third North Carolina Mounted Infantry (Union) 
 Regiment. The fight lasted over an hour, several men on each 
 side being killed and wounded. A day or two after I met Lieu- 
 tenant Hartley and several of his men who had taken part in 
 the fight. 
 
 We diverged somewhat from our true course to view "Lit- 
 tle Lost Cove," a great natural curiosity. The cavern, they told 
 us, was three thousand feet deep, and a silence, not of gloom, but 
 of reverence, seemed to fall upon us as we overlooked it. Roll- 
 ing large boulders into the cavity, to listen to the awful rever- 
 berations which they made as they tumbled down its sides and 
 dashed to the bottom, gave me much pleasure, despite my desire 
 to proceed. Here were virgin rocks upon which no pestiferous
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 143 
 
 quack had painted his shameless sign, precipices which had not 
 been invaded by the grand tour, whose solitary magnificence 
 thrills and impresses you, as if in some barren land you came 
 upon the brilliant lustre of a priceless diamond. 
 
 We reached Crab Orchard, Tennessee, November 6th, and 
 owing to the cold and the slippery state of the walking, were 
 compelled to make a stop. A Mr. Buck generously gave us a 
 cow, which, being slaughtered, afforded us a change of food, 
 which was highly relished. Most of our party quartered in a 
 cave between two mountains, myself and companions stopping 
 at the comfortable home of Mr. Francis Marion Hampton, for- 
 merly a member of the Tennessee legislature, and a cousin of 
 General Wade Hampton, of South Carolina. He came down 
 from his covert on the mountain at midnight, and had a long 
 talk with us. He had inhabited a cave for more than a year. 
 
 Next day we again started, and feeling greatly refreshed, 
 marched swiftly, notwithstanding the drawbacks of a heavy rain 
 and the rough condition of the roads. Time was when all this 
 section of country was romantic ground. "The great Indian 
 war trail, along which so many scenes of violence and murder 
 were enacted, ran near this point," said Major Davis. "From 
 the time of the settlement along the beautiful Chucky River, 
 more than a hundred years ago, until early in the present cen- 
 tury," continued the Major, "the settler took his life in his hands 
 daily, and the war-cry of the Indian was a familiar sound to 
 his ever-listening ears." 
 
 We had now reached the chain of the Great Smoky Moun- 
 tain Range the very spot of all others we had been particularly 
 cautioned against visiting just before leaving Charleston, owing 
 to the presence there of Indians, acting in the interest of the 
 Confederacy. The hills everywhere rose to a height of several 
 thousand feet, and seen from a distance they seemed bathed in 
 a mellow haze, like that distinguishing the atmosphere of Indian 
 summer. We passed through a gap which had a great eleva- 
 tion; beneath us were vast canyons, from which came up the 
 angry roar of creeks, greatly swollen by the heavy rains. We 
 looked down upon the tops of mighty forests, never tiring of 
 their grandeur. 
 
 The pathways grew rockier as we clambered along, but the 
 air was pure and refreshing, and had I been comfortably clad 
 and in good condition for sight-seeing, I should have reveled 
 in the beauty of the ever-changing scenes. As far as the eye 
 could reach, on every hand, stood long lines of towering crags,
 
 144 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 from which there seemed no outlet. Once I turned on the 
 crest of a prodigious mountain, and, looking Carolinavvard, I 
 saw our old friends of the Blue Ridge and Allegheny Ranges,, 
 scattered for miles among the dark and forbidding-looking for- 
 ests. Before and behind us were deep ravines, and beyond all r 
 uncounted peaks, which the sky seemed tenderly to bend over 
 and kiss with affection. 
 
 It was while crossing the placid Indian Creek, or river, that 
 we had a startling surprise, and a tragedy was averted with 
 difficulty. The mountains through which this crystal stream 
 made its way, were mirrored in its rain-rippled breast. Upon 
 this beautiful country through which we were now fleeing for 
 life and liberty, the Indian had lavished that wealth of affection 
 he always feels for nature and never for man. He gave to the 
 multitudinous hills and streams the soft poetic names of his ex- 
 pansive language names which the white man has in many cases 
 thrown away, substituting the barbarous common-places of the 
 rude days of early settlement. 
 
 Indian Creek heads in the neighboring Smoky Mountains, 
 and swelling into volume free from countless springs of coldest, 
 purest, most transparent water, which send little torrents down 
 all the ravines, it goes foaming and dashing over myriad rocks, 
 sometimes leaping from dizzy heights into narrow and wild- 
 looking canyons, until it comes to, and is lost in the noble and 
 majestic French Broad River, which we successfully crossed a 
 few days afterwards. 
 
 It was midnight when we reached a fordable point, and 
 much difficulty was experienced in crossing. Here a mule and 
 horse, captured a few days before by our party, proved of great 
 usefulness, as we used the animals as ferry-boats. Each carried 
 two persons across the flood at a time ; then by means of a long 
 rope, the animals were guided back for other passengers. Most 
 of our party had thus been ferried to the left bank, when the 
 North Carolinians and Tennesseeans became embroiled in a 
 fierce fight, bad blood between them for the past day or two hav- 
 ing been engendered. 
 
 For a time it was a serious affair, and several were badly 
 cut in the encounter. We had much trouble in stopping the 
 fight and reconciling the combatants. A few days afterward 
 they engaged in another combat, but without serious results. 
 
 The ascent of Higgins' Ridge was both tedious and painful 
 to me, requiring five hours in its difficult accomplishment. The 
 gigantic hill, over which we made our laborious way, was clad
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 145 
 
 in the sombre garb of the balsam the sad and haughty monarch 
 of those great heights. The odorous boughs of these mighty 
 trees brushed against the clouds, while in the deep thickets, 
 where the sunbeams can hardly penetrate, safe refuges for the 
 mountain lion, wolf and bear are afforded. 
 
 It was from the summit of this hill that I for the first time 
 gazed upon and across the lovely Cumberland Valley. Far 
 below we distinctly saw the town of Greenville, the old home of 
 Andrew Johnson, who, the previous week, had been elected 
 Vice-President of the United States on the ticket with our 
 sainted Lincoln. I also saw Jonesboro' away to the right, while 
 other villages dotted the beautiful plains below. 
 
 Bull Gap, too, where a portion of the Union army was said 
 to be encamped, and our present objective point, was within 
 sight, but a long distance away, across the broad valley in our 
 immediate front. With wistful eyes I looked to the bold pro- 
 montory, and what longings I had to be at its base. Another 
 day, our guides promised, would bring us to it, and in this 
 joyous expectation I nerved myself for the final tramp. 
 
 Hastening along in gleeful mood we were suddenly thrown 
 into a state of terror and demoralization by the sudden and to- 
 tally unexpected appearance of a number of horsemen, riding 
 furiously upon an adjoining and parallel ridge, with a view of 
 intercepting our descent into the valley. By dint of great 
 effort and a long and fatiguing run we succeeded in reaching 
 the desired point, and, although a number of shots were dis- 
 charged, none of our party were injured. 
 
 A weary climb and we stood upon the crest of Big Butt 
 Mountain, from which we had a grand view of the gorgeous 
 valley. In a few hours my torn and constantly bleeding feet 
 would receive care and attention ; in a few hours I would again 
 be under the folds of the flag I had followed in the field since 
 April, 1861 ; in a few hours my fears and trials and fatigues would 
 be ended, and joy and peace reign in my mind. 
 
 Down the steep side of the great hill we went at accelerated 
 pace, when all of a sudden the gravest fears took possession of 
 our souls. A thundering reverberation which came up from 
 the hitherto quiet valley shook the grand old hills about us, 
 causing an instantaneous halt. What could have caused the 
 noise? The answer came the next instant in the unmistakable 
 report of artillery and musketry; and gazing across the plains 
 before us the smoke arising from a battle then and there in 
 progress was plainly visible. Our hearts sank within us, and
 
 146 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 sadness and fear was depicted on every face. With an army 
 across our path, and desperate bush-whackers hovering about 
 us, how should be escape capture perhaps death? 
 
 As the evening shades fell there was a lull a sudden ter- 
 mination of the conflict. What would the morrow bring forth ? 
 
 A young woman, living at the base of the great mountain, 
 solicitous for our welfare and deeply commiserating our wretch- 
 edness and forlorn condition, volunteering to make a recon- 
 noissance, mounted her "filly," a young horse, and with a bag of 
 corn before her improvised saddle, a primitive concern without 
 stirrups, rode away on the pretence of visiting a neighboring mill 
 to have the corn ground. She returned in safety at dusk, with 
 the discomforting intelligence that General Gillem, the Union 
 commander at Blue Lick Springs, had been disastrously de- 
 feated, and was precipitately falling back on the strong defences 
 at Knoxville. 
 
 Desperately in want of food, Captains Todd and Grant, who 
 had started with Captain Lewis and myself from Charleston, six 
 weeks previously, went off in search of something that would 
 afford nourishment to our weakened stomachs and give strength 
 to our tottering frames. It was during their absence that a 
 young mountaineer, who manifested deep concern in me, pleaded 
 to guide me to his cave, a refuge some miles away, where safety 
 would be assured and many comforts found. He was eloquent 
 in depicting the manifold dangers surrounding me, and declared 
 our party could not hope to reach our lines at Knoxville, now 
 that a large and active force of a vigilant and desperate enemy 
 intervened. Finally accepting his view of the situation, I re- 
 luctantly consented to accept his advice and proffered hospital- 
 ity, providing my three companions in captivity could accom- 
 pany us. This, he declared to be impossible, owing to the 
 incapacity of his accommodations, sufficient, he said, for only 
 two, and while further laboring to induce me to accept his 
 generous invitation, we were startled by the sound of heavy 
 hoof-beats, the firing of small arms, and the demoniac yells of 
 a body of horsemen, rapidly advancing up the deep and wild 
 ravine in which we thought we had immunity from danger. The 
 bush-whackers, whom we dreaded, had discovered our hiding- 
 place. 
 
 Thus aroused from a train of sad reflections, I sprang from 
 the trunk of a prostrate monarch of the forest on which I had 
 been reclining, and without taking a ceremonious leave of my 
 friend, dashed directly up the steep mountain side, lacerating
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 147 
 
 my bare feet and legs as I ran in my headlong course, among 
 the rocks and brush which lined my rough and darkened path- 
 way. My boots had long since pegged out, and the semblance 
 of a uniform which I had worn over six months, without remov- 
 ing, was much torn and in a sadly dilapidated condition. My 
 legs, from knees down, were entirely exposed. 
 
 My rapid flight up the great hill was greatly accelerated by 
 a shower of bullets which pelted the hillside. To increase my 
 discomforts an easterly wind that pierced to the marrow, and 
 which had prevailed for a day or two, brought a gale and a heavy 
 rain, intermingled with hail, thoroughly saturating what little 
 apparel remained upon my attenuated frame, down which ran 
 copious streams of icy water. The hail-stones beat upon my 
 unprotected head, arms and feet, while the cold was so intense 
 that I had but little use of my hands, my feet seeming like balls, 
 so benumbed had they become. Two weeks previously they 
 had been frozen while crossing Grandfather Mountain, in 
 wading through six inches of snow. 
 
 Finally attaining the summit of the mountain, only accom- 
 plished by laborious and painful effort, I fell exhausted and un- 
 conscious nature had run its course. How long I remained 
 in this state, I have no means of knowing, but when I at length 
 awoke and realized that I must perish unless I could get my 
 blood in circulation, I set to work by indulging in such exer- 
 cise as I was capable of. I stamped my feet upon the cold, wet 
 ground, and made an effort to run, stopping occasionally to rub 
 my limbs against logs which everywhere strewed the hillside. 
 
 The night was the longest, dreariest and most terrible of 
 any I had ever experienced, and heartily glad was I when the 
 dawn of morning approached, although it brought little cheer. 
 True, I could view the surrounding country for a long distance, 
 and in other conditions might have appreciated the grotesque 
 ridges, rocks, escarpments, undulating hillocks and meandering 
 rivers, now flooded, but I was not on an excursion of pleasure 
 bent, and the sights presented had but little charm for me. 
 
 The thought I had adopted from the first that I would 
 not perish in the wilderness, but would again reach my home, 
 often revived my sinking spirits, when, from faintness and ex- 
 haustion, I felt but little inclination for life. I must confess, 
 however, that after making my way along the dizzy mountain- 
 top through a field of tangled trunks which seemed intermina- 
 ble, at one of my compulsory stops I found myself seriously 
 considering whether, after all, it was not preferable to die there
 
 148 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 than renew the almost necessary superhuman effort to proceed. 
 
 Alone in that vast and inhospitable wilderness I sometimes 
 felt that all attempt to escape was but a bitter prolongation of 
 the agony of dissolution, but a seeming whisper in the air, 
 "while there is life there is hope," dispelled the delusion, and I 
 clambered on. 
 
 I gradually arrived at the growing consciousness that I was 
 starving, yet I did not crave food until I suddenly ran across 
 a persimmon tree, still partially bearing some of the purple- 
 covered fruit, of which I was exceeding fond when a boy. I 
 ate ravenously of the berries, and for a time my appetite was 
 fully appeased. A long period had gone since I had feasted 
 so luxuriously on this fruit. 
 
 There were thoughts and feelings and mental anguishes 
 without number that crowded through my bewildered mind that 
 I cannot describe, but bitter as had been my experiences in 
 various Confederate prison-pens and on my toilsome tramp, it 
 was not unrelieved by some of the most precious moments I 
 had ever known. 
 
 I did not suffer for want of water, as I had some days 
 before, because of the copious rain-fall, but I became very cold 
 as the storm continued to rage with increased violence. There 
 was no protection to be found, save in the poor shelter of drip- 
 ping trees, and this was poor indeed. My armless blouse ex- 
 posed my arms, and as I gazed upon them the flesh and blood 
 had apparently vanished. The skin clung to the bones like wet 
 parchment, which it resembled. A child's hand could have 
 clasped them from wrist to shoulder. I might add by way of 
 parenthesis, that a few days afterwards, on reaching home, I 
 could not turn the scales at ninety pounds. 
 
 Apparently out of immediate danger, although I could hear 
 heavy firing in the distance, convincing me a battle was in 
 progress, I sat down to extricate a piece of stick which had been 
 forced into the fleshy part of my heel, and while engaged in the 
 painful operation, and contemplating my condition and the 
 manifold dangers surrounding me, a terrible fear took possession 
 of my soul. 
 
 It is scarcely possible to conceive what difficulties I had to 
 surmount. Compelled to struggle with the most urgent neces- 
 sities, pierced by the cold, constantly tormented by hunger, a 
 prey to misgivings as to the success of my long tramp, uncer- 
 tain at the rising of the sun, whether I should see its setting 
 rays, and doubtful at night whether I should witness the morn-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 149 
 
 ing's dawn, every thought seemed concentrated in the ardent 
 desire to live. 
 
 Alone in that awful solitude, among great overtowering hills, 
 which touched the clouds; in wretchness and misery; without 
 food, almost destitute of appetite, and bare-footed, my heart fast 
 throbbing in the exciting run for life had now almost ceased to 
 pulsate. 
 
 I had no article of value about me no money, no knife or 
 other weapon, no blanket, no utensil in which to cook, noth- 
 ing to cook ; neither did I know in which direction to turn, which 
 course to pursue. 
 
 What had been the fate of my companions I knew not, nor 
 had I any means of ascertaining. Daylight came at last, bring- 
 ing some relief to my anxious mind. I was on the brink 
 of despair when sounds of an approaching party were borne 
 to my listening ears. Secreting myself I soon became con- 
 vinced that they were friends, and when near enough I recog- 
 nized Captain Lewis and a score of the refugees who had fol- 
 lowed us from North Carolina. 
 
 I cannot express the gratitude I felt as I bounded like a 
 schoolboy down the mountain's side to find the firm comrade 
 with whom I had set out on the fateful pilgrimage. I was 
 affectionately greeted, having been given up for lost. We 
 hastened away, keeping along under the heavy shadows of the 
 everlasting hills, into which we could retreat did such a step 
 become necessary, but although we constantly heard desultory 
 firing in the direction of the railroad, and occasionally saw af- 
 frighted farmers along Pigeon and French Broad Rivers fleeing 
 irom the invading army, we managed to escape observation, and 
 march between twenty and thirty miles a day. 
 
 In less than a week we were safe within the Union lines at 
 Knoxville, whose citizens we found in a high state of excite- 
 ment, consequent upon the approach of Breckinridge's half- 
 starved army. 
 
 Shall I conclude my narrative by telling you with what 
 animation Lewis and myself rehearsed to Generals Gillem, Car- 
 ter and Ammen, and a listening company of brave officers who 
 so kindly welcomed us to that heroic town the story of our suf- 
 ferings and escapes ; how they cheered us by complimentary 
 remarks upon our achievements how thoughts of an old-fash- 
 ioned Thanksgiving with the dear ones at home that night made 
 our dreams luminous as with the smiles of angels ? 
 
 No. You can imagine all this, and if you have ever been
 
 150 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 in such perils as we had escaped, you will understand what I 
 mean when I say that life seemed to us, in those first hours 
 of deliverance, like a resurrection, in which we stood with crowns 
 upon our heads, and shining pathways, leading heavenward, 
 stretching away in reaches of splendor before our weary feet. 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE GREAT REVIEW. 
 
 THE American people had no conception of the magnitude 
 of the Union armies until "the cruel war was over," and 
 the remnants of Grant's and Sherman's warriors genu- 
 ine veterans passed in glorious review over the wide avenues 
 of the National Capital forty-two years ago, the dignitaries of 
 our land, rescued and forever safe from secession, and thou- 
 sands of patriotic , citizens witnessing the greatest and noblest 
 pageant ever seen in the United States, if not in the world, and 
 surpassing in enthusiasm and patriotic fervor any "triumph" in 
 Rome's palmiest days a spectacle that can never again be anti- 
 cipated here. Of those who took part in the grand review, but 
 few remain. 
 
 The glitter of a sea of steel bayonets, the constant flashing 
 of bright sabres, the dazzling light from brass dogs of war, whose 
 fierce barkings had been heard with terror by the enemy and 
 with delight by the Unionists in hundreds of sanguinary engage- 
 ments, and the waving of bullet-ridden and battle-torn colors, 
 brilliantly floating in the soft breezes those lovely days in May, 
 1865, were most inspiring. 
 
 Was it any wonder that the greatest throng ever up to that 
 time attracted to Washington should sit or stand for many hours, 
 transfixed as it were, by the panoramic sight of moving masses 
 of blue, in all the panoply of war, passing along with rhythmic 
 motion ? 
 
 Such marching, such music, such behavior on the part of 
 those stern-featured men, had never before been seen, nor will 
 the sublime spectacle ever again be approximated. 
 
 Boys who had followed the lead of the heroic Hooker, and 
 toiled with him in climbing the rocky steeps at Lookout Moun- 
 tain till our starry banners kissed the clouds ; those who whirled 
 down the beautiful and romantic Shenandoah Valley, under the 
 plucky and intrepid Sheridan ; those who followed the ever-true 
 Burnside into the malarial swamps of Roanoke Island, and up 
 Marye's blazing heights; those who followed Sherman from
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 151 
 
 Atlanta to the sea ; those who swept grandly with Grant through 
 the Wilderness, and faced death with unblanched faces at Cold 
 Harbor, and those who pressed with exultant feet in pursuit of 
 Lee's decimated and shattered columns after Richmond's fall 
 these men, bronzed and stern-visaged. marched those two never- 
 to-be-forgotten days as mortals had never marched before, nor 
 since, nor ever will again. 
 
 Within the short space of nine months after this, nearly one 
 million American volunteers, the best soldiers the world ever 
 beheld, melted away into private life honorably discharged from 
 the service of a Nation they had unflinchingly and faithfully 
 served through four long and bitter years, and returned to their 
 homes to become better citizens this mighty task being accom- 
 plished so easily and quietly that the country scarcely realized the 
 fact. This mighty host was absorbed with scarcely a ripple irt 
 the commercial or business world. 
 
 To-day the few remaining survivors of the greatest conflict 
 recorded in history are surrounded by none of the pomp or cir- 
 cumstance of war. No shattered cannon disputes the supremacy 
 of the flag under which they marched. No rattle of musketry 
 or clang of sabre speaks of deadly conflict, no blast of bugle or 
 throb of drum summons them to ensanguined fields. There is no 
 rumble of artillery hurrying to defend an endangered battle line 
 no shell screaming in the air ; no ghastly faces turned rear- 
 ward on stretcher or litter ; no gleaming surgeon's knife, no hos- 
 pital floating its peculiar and sacred flag and beckoning wounded 
 and dying to its friendly shelter. 
 
 Peace, sweet peace, made possible by the sacrifices of the 
 stalwart men of 1861-1865, now smiles on all the land. From 
 towns and cities shattered by shot and shell time has rubbed 
 every scar. Into homes desolated, content long ago came, and 
 at broken firesides, once shrouded in gloom, the angel of peace 
 has furled her wing. Industry, commerce and all the arts of 
 peace flourish as never before. Resentments, long and bitterly 
 cherished, are hushed, and the embers of old exasperations and 
 hates have died out upon the old heart. 
 
 Fires are now burning dimly at the infrequent gatherings of 
 those who fought the battles in the war for the Union, and as 
 they look into each other's faces, once grimed and blackened 
 with the smoke of battle ; as they receive the eager grasp of hands 
 that more than four decades ago pledged that eternal brother- 
 hood which true soldiers best can feel ; as they recall the glorious 
 deeds, the thrilling events, and the bitter hours they all have
 
 152 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 seen, may the ties then formed, and renewed from time to time, 
 bind them afresh into that glorious brotherhood born of a com- 
 mon danger, a common hardship and a common patriotism. 
 
 Who among them will ever forget the friendship of those 
 cruel and never-ending days? Who among them would blot 
 from memory a single one of those hours in which hardship and 
 glory, and suffering and joy pressed close upon each other's heels 
 day by day, and year after year? 
 
 SECOND COLD HARBOR. 
 
 WHILE the minds of patriotic citizens are more or less cen- 
 tered on the services and sacrifices of the soldiers who 
 fought for and preserved the Union in the bitter contest 
 of 1861-1865, is it not well for participants in that prolonged and 
 terrible struggle to rehearse scenes in which they took part, as a 
 means of impressing upon the present money-getting generation 
 the nature of the contest in which more than half a million lives 
 and two billions in treasure were given to perpetuate the best 
 form of government ever vouchsafed to man, as well as to incul- 
 cate lessons of patriotism and wisdom for those to come after ? 
 
 Nearly half a century ago many young men who were serv- 
 ing in the Union Army participated in one of the most fiercely 
 contested battles of the war at Cold Harbor, Virginia an engage- 
 ment that raged with great fury for several days, in which scenes 
 were witnessed that have no parallel in American history, and 
 where brave and determined men grappled at each other's throats 
 in a fierce and desperate struggle for possession of a coveted 
 field. 
 
 I will not weary the reader by attempting to tell of the hasty 
 and toilsome march of the Ninth New Jersey Regiment from day- 
 break on the morning of June 3, 1864, under a scorching sun, 
 to reinforce the weakened and imperiled line of the Army of the 
 Potomac at that point, nor dwell on the gallant assault it made 
 on the enemy's works, from which it was repeatedly repelled. 
 That day Jerseymen dropped under the withering fire as grass 
 before a scythe. It caused a halt it was more than human nature 
 could withstand. But with no thought of giving way, the men, 
 with one accord, instantly and without instruction or working 
 tools, commenced the arduous task of constructing what might 
 serve as a cover and from which they could with some degree of 
 confidence and safety return the shots of the desperate and vigi-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 153 
 
 lant enemy, advantageously posted. Bayonets, knives, forks, 
 cups, tin plates and bare hands were the only utensils available 
 for the work in hand. 
 
 When the Confederate beheld the pile of earth thus suddenly 
 thrown up in their front, and but a few yards away, they made 
 repeated charges, but were as often driven back under a rain- 
 storm of shell, canister and grape, causing terrible execution. 
 When night came, long and earnestly wished for by both armies, 
 and darkness enshrouded the gloomy woods, there was a prac- 
 tical suspension of the murderous contest, and men from both 
 works attempted the rescue of the wounded, lying between. This 
 task was both difficult and dangerous. 
 
 Two days after this, during which time several charges and 
 counter-charges were made, a fearful, fever-breeding, nauseous 
 stench filled the stagnant air from the almost numberless and cor- 
 rupt bodies of the slain lying exposed between the outer works 
 of the contending forces, separated as they were only by a few 
 yards. Among the swollen and blackened corpses, a hideous spec- 
 tacle, lay many wounded, unable to move hand or foot, whose 
 mournful and pathetic cries as they lay on the parched earth 
 under a consuming sun, suffering every torment from wounds, 
 hunger and thirst, caused bitter pangs in the hearts of the living, 
 who were powerless to aid them. It was a sickening, revolting 
 sight to be compelled to endure the foul-smelling bodies, bloated 
 to the dimensions of a flour barrel, but far sadder to listen to 
 the constant and piteous appeals of the wounded and the dying, 
 totally unable to relieve their wants and necessities, or in any way 
 escape the contagion surrounding them. 
 
 No pen or brush can adequately portray the agonizing 
 scenes the men of both armies were compelled for days to wit- 
 ness at Cold Harbor in June, 1864. The ground swarmed with 
 great black beetles and huge ants, which held high carnival on 
 the putrid bodies of men, who a short time before the embodiment 
 of health and manly beauty, had been engaged in a desperate con- 
 test for supremacy. Strange to narrate, a number of the wounded 
 who had fallen helplessly between the works girdled by death, 
 survived until a truce was gained, but they were human wrecks, 
 mere shadows of themselves and scarcely recognizable, so pro- 
 longed and terrible had been their privations and so intense their 
 sufferings. 
 
 Can you, reader, imagine the agonizing torments endured by 
 these unfortunate and helpless men who thus suffered through 
 those long, scorching days and dreary, never-ending nights ? Pic-
 
 154 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 ture them, if you can, as they lie stretched in every conceivable 
 position in that pestilential swamp, writhing in agony from 
 ghastly wounds, without water to quench their consuming thirst, 
 or food to satisfy the cravings of hunger. Hear their plaintive, 
 heart-rending appeals, their deep and mournful groans, their 
 prayers for mercy, relief or death, as the field about and above 
 them is torn by hissing shot, while nerve-racking grape, canister 
 and the ever-present bullet, constantly flying about them, added 
 to their fears and bodily distresses. 
 
 Five terrible days passed ere relief came to the sufferers in 
 the shape of an armistice, finally granted by the Confederate com- 
 mander, during which both forces were allowed to recover the 
 wounded and bury the dead. 
 
 But what a task ! Long trenches were quickly excavated and 
 into their depths the decomposed and unrecognizable corpses of 
 men who a few hours previously had been so full of animation 
 and daring were hurriedly, though tenderly and devoutly lowered 
 the brief time allotted for the human purpose not permitting 
 ministerial ceremony of any nature, even had any of the so-called 
 "fighting" chaplains the temerity to venture to the place of rude 
 but necessary interment. It was nauseating to those who were 
 detailed to handle the putrefying, disfigured corpses, while those 
 to whom the duty of removing the wounded had been delegated 
 performed their task with loving hands and bleeding hearts. In 
 many instances maggots and other vermin swarmed among the 
 wounds of those who had been maimed, presenting a revolting 
 sight one that no man, made however callous-hearted by war, 
 would ever wish to behold. 
 
 Here let me draw a veil and present a scene painted in golden 
 tints by a friend who recently visited the once flame-lined and 
 gory field of Cold Harbor, where so many gallant sons of our lit- 
 tle commonwealth gave their lives that our Government might not 
 fade away, and where in now awful solitude he found a large can- 
 non partially imbedded in the ground, the brazen muzzle affording 
 a secure place for the building of nests by birds. There no more 
 the wanton ruffle of the drums, no more the ecstasy of warlike 
 bugles and no more the stirring challenge of the inspiring fife; 
 there no more that spot, once thick with blood, coagulate with 
 dead, forever gone the locking clash of arms, the shouts, the 
 grimy wind chasing the battle flags ; no more the sundering shock 
 of flame-ringed, ireful men. Out through these trees the con- 
 quered and the conquerors long have passed ; mute is the high 
 command, and mute, long mute, the answering thrill of cheer
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 155 
 
 from out the trickling rill of bayonets ; the charger is enveloped in 
 the dust, and rust has claimed both foemen's steel and brass ; long 
 faded, too, the deep, imperious tremor of huge guns, the stutter- 
 ing musket volleys, the soiled smoke and .all the rapid rifle ripple 
 in this swamp. 
 
 "In the fluted throat of a cannon sweet birds have builded, 
 and with their silken web of song, thread ever the crimson seam 
 of hates annulled and reunited arms. Full many a time and oft, 
 falcated moons here have risen, have bloomed to passion's prime, 
 have waned and slept, have seen no semblance of that horrid 
 scene, when war roared weltering in her angered hour nor is 
 there any token left, naught anywhere, naught save the fast thin- 
 ning hosts that proudly mourn in annual grief and joy, naught but 
 these graves, star-scattered on their grass-grown mounds, this 
 annual dip of bright and soft memorial flowers, this memory 
 of great deeds this memory hovering close and warm, 
 swallow-like, as when the storm is spent, and when across 
 the kindling sky is flung the jeweled bridge of Peace. 
 The circling hills alone bend in their powdering rims, 
 let glide the misty fields in limpid flow to gather in about, 
 like flocks and herds that come faltering and trooping adown to 
 sunset streams. The sun along his golden balustrade descends ; to 
 the pale cheek of night the day allies her roseal lips, and upon 
 the ear falls the least faint flutter of receding music. Cold Har- 
 bor laughs freshly and lovingly to-day, consecrated, as it is, to 
 memorable pangs and to exalted sacrifices, cradling the storied 
 tomb, the urn, the graven monuments and her dead." 
 
 INCIDENTS IN CIVIL WAR. 
 
 THE present strenuous generation, engrossed, as it is, in 
 unusual commercial activities, has but a feeble conception 
 of the magnitude of the Civil War, relentlessly waged for 
 four years. What Would to-day be thought if the old Army of 
 the Potomac, for example, against which the Confederates 
 launched their best and strongest forces, could be resuscitated 
 and again formed into column, as in 1864, when General Grant 
 directed it? In its most compact marching order that magni- 
 ficent army would extend from Jersey City to Baltimore, a dis- 
 tance of some two hundred miles. Have you, reader, any con- 
 ception of what that army cost in thought not money to con- 
 struct it ; how much energy and determination ; how much pru-
 
 156 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 dence and forethought; how much anticipation of future wants, 
 necessities and contingencies, or how much thought it would 
 require from one single mind to guide its movements where to 
 move? when? how? or what should be done if success attended 
 the plans of the commander? or what he should do if the enemy 
 made an uncertain move; or how he should recover from any 
 adverse, unforeseen circumstances? 
 
 Visitors to Washington, in these piping times of peace and 
 money-getting, may scarcely believe that the most extensive 
 bakery in the world was established in the extensive 
 vaults of the present magnificent capitol in the early part of the 
 Civil War, from the ovens of which 60.000 loaves of pure and 
 wholesome fresh white bread were turned out daily and supplied 
 to the soldiers encamped in and about the national capital. The 
 great bakery was conducted so quietly that visitors to the halls of 
 legislation would not be cognizant of the unceasing industry car- 
 ried on beneath the great marble structure if attention was not 
 called to the fact. 
 
 The Army of the Potomac, under the easy-going McClellan, 
 who never had any disposition to fight the enemy, owing to his 
 underrating the strength and ability of his own force, and over- 
 estimating the numbers of the Confederates confronting him, 
 really never fulfilled its mission until General Grant, whose ways 
 General Lee did not understand, left his ever-victorious Western 
 army and assumed control of it. Grant, with an eye single to the 
 interests of the country, and a grim determination which ever 
 characterized him, moved forward on that line, where, he said, if 
 he had to fight all summer, he would remain. He kept his word 
 and victory crowned his efforts. For the first time that splendid 
 army, which for years had repeatedly hurled itself against Con- 
 federate earthworks only to be repulsed, had a competent master. 
 With Grant everything was stern reality and the business at hand. 
 
 It was after the battle of Kinston, N. C, in December, 1862, 
 and the occupancy of that town by the Ninth New Jersey, which 
 blazed the way, when Morrison's Battery ran up and took position 
 to shell the Confederates, precipitately retreating towards Golds- 
 boro, that Dr. Salter, who with Surgeon Gillette, of the Ninth,
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 157 
 
 was very busily engaged in attending to the wounded, noticing 
 the proximity of the battery to the improvised hospital, remarked : 
 "We had better get out of this before Morrison draws the enemy's 
 fire !." "Guess there is no danger here so long as the Ninth is in 
 front of us/' responded Surgeon Gillette, who was preparing to 
 amputate the leg of William Brumstadder, of Company G, of 
 Elizabeth (still living). Bang! Boom! W-h-r-r-s-s-t-t ! And 
 pieces of shell rattled about the hospital, creating consternation 
 among the helpless men within. One of the stretcher-carriers a 
 member of Company G of Elizabeth who had just brought in a 
 bucket of water, grabbed his haversack and started out of the 
 building, saying to the surgeon in language more forcible than 
 polite: "I am going to the rear. You are a h 1 of a doctor to 
 put the hospital in front of a battle !" And out he went on a dead 
 run. 
 
 One day, as Company K was on a march, an incident oc- 
 curred that caused much merriment among the boys of that com- 
 mand. "Tom" McCormick, of Elizabeth, who enjoyed the repu- 
 tation of being one of the homeliest men in the Ninth, as well as 
 being one of the most daring, having the ill-luck to stumble, gave 
 expression to his injured feelings in language that his lieutenant 
 could find no authority for in the tactics. "You are fined, Mc- 
 Cormick," said the lieutenant, who never could condone any in- 
 fraction of army rules. "Tom" greatly respected his officer, but 
 being greatly provoked at the rebuke, uttered another unparlia- 
 mentary expression. "I shall impose another fine," said the lieu- 
 tenant. "All right, lieutenant," responded McCormick, taking a 
 wad of bills from his pocket and handing him a one-dollar bill; 
 "while at it, I may as well take a dollar's worth of army rige- 
 lashun!" And he did. 
 
 Who shall describe, with "thoughts that breathe and words 
 that burn," in language that shall compress a volume into a sen- 
 tence, a sentence into a word, the agony of mind and body which 
 is the hourly boon of the many thousands in the hospitals during 
 the great war ? Aged men and tender boys suffered alike. There 
 is no discrimination in battle. One youth, the very picture of 
 manhood's budding beauty, has lost a leg, and limps upon a crutch. 
 Another, with bandaged breast and brow, remembers the fatal 
 bravery which inspired him on the battle-field, and weeps involun- 
 tarily as he never wept before at the sweet thought of home and 
 mother. The writer, in passing through a hospital after the battle
 
 158 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 of Newbern, witnessed a touching incident one that drew tears 
 to his eyes and thrilled his form with a pang. Several charitable 
 ladies were passing along a ward, dispensing ice-cream to the 
 invalids. At the farther end lay a boy, his face pale, his eyelids 
 drooping. 
 
 "The poor little fellow is asleep; we must not disturb him," 
 said one of the ladies. 
 
 "No, ma'am, I am not asleep," he softly answered. 
 
 "My little fellow," continued the lady, "are you fond of i^c 
 cream ?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am; I dearly love it," he replied with a silvery 
 voice, as his face brightened up. 
 
 "Well, help yourself to this," saying which the angel visitor 
 placed a saucer and spoon on the little table at his bedside. 
 
 The lad burst into tears, and the ladies became very much 
 affected at his heartrending sobs. 
 
 "Why do you cry ?" asked one of them. 
 
 "Oh, madam, if you will pull down the quilt a little you will 
 see." 
 
 She did so, and found that he had no arms. 
 
 Poor boy! The sympathy of silence and tears was all that 
 could be bestowed upon his wounded spirit. The remembrance of 
 sister and brother, of father and mother, of childish frolics and 
 playmates loved of yore, was awakened to soothe the fancy of 
 the brave little sufferer, and to wreath his young brow with the 
 still tender beauty of resignation to the will of God. 
 
 A DUEL TO THE DEATH. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA rejoices in the citizenship of a gentleman 
 and soldier who greatly distinguished himself in many of 
 the battles of the war for the Union. The subject of this 
 brief sketch has his home at 2001 Diamond Street, but h's walk 
 in life is so quiet and unostentatious that but comparatively few of 
 the present generation, immersed as they are in strenuous com- 
 mercialism, with a faint memory of the greatest conflict recorded 
 in history, are cognizant of the brilliant services rendered by him 
 on numerous occasions during the long and bitter struggle. 
 
 The writer has no intention in this sketch of rehearsing the 
 valuable services performed by Brigadier-General James Stewart, 
 Jr., through the bloody conflict of 1861-1865, but simply to relate 
 a thrilling episode at the battle of Newbern, N. C, March 14,
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 159 
 
 1862, when two New Jerseymen, one attired in heaven's azure 
 blue, the other wearing the gray of early morning, fought a duel 
 to the death. 
 
 General Stewart, a captain in the famous Ninth New Jersey 
 Volunteers, at the age of eighteen years, had won a soldier's repu- 
 tation for brilliant conduct at the battle and capture of Roanoke 
 Island a month previous, the first engagement in which New 
 Jersey troops participated, and his men, young farmer boys from 
 Warren County, reposing the utmost confidence in his leadership, 
 had the greatest admiration for his skill and daring. They had 
 seen his bright blade gleaming at the fore-front in the deadly 
 swamp at Roanoke, and his Spartan-like example at Newbern, 
 really the second Union victory of the war, incited them to deeds 
 of heroism. 
 
 After the Ninth a regiment of riflemen composed of twelve 
 hundred superb young men from office, workshop and farm had 
 swung into its long double line of battle, covering a space of 
 twelve hundred feet, directly fronting elaborate earthworks, 
 mounting five guns, and defended by a strong force of Con- 
 federates, including Colonel Zebulon Vance's 26th North Caro- 
 lina mountaineers, a command that sustained during the war a 
 heavier loss in killed than any other in either army, Captain 
 Stewart and his company (H) found itself deployed on the 
 extreme left of the Union line, facing a grim Confederate re- 
 doubt, mounting two shining field pieces. 
 
 Although the writer has frequently met General Stewart 
 during all these intervening years, now nearly half a century, he 
 has never heard his gallant comrade and commander allude to 
 the particular circumstance that impels this sketch. The innate 
 modesty which has ever characterized General Stewart, as well 
 as the sad reflection of his encounter in deadly battle with a 
 former friend and townsman, have been sufficient to keep his 
 lips sealed in regard to the desperate affray, brought on through 
 no fault of his own. 
 
 Tall and of commanding mien, his stalwart form loomed 
 along his line as he passed and repassed giving directions to his 
 men, making him a conspicuous mark for the enemy's sharp- 
 shooters, occupying advantageous positions of comparative 
 safety. His face, chiseled like that of Achilles, brightened at 
 times by the gallant conduct of the brave farmer boys who de- 
 lighted in following his lead, was again overshadowed as he saw 
 his boyhood companions dropping at his feet in the heat of battle, 
 melting away, as it were, like mist before the rising sun.
 
 160 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Captain Stewart, finally finding himself as especially marked 
 for complimentary attention on the part of the Confederate 
 marksmen, a well-directed bullet having passed through his 
 high-crowned slouch hat, carrying away one of the gilt orna- 
 ments, together with a lock of his raven-colored hirsute appen- 
 dage, on which he greatly prided himself, took a rifle from the 
 death-grasp of one of the men lying at his feet, who no longer 
 had use for the weapon, and securing some cartridges, made his 
 way to a spot well adapted for the desperate purpose he had in 
 view. Using his field-glasses in surveying the enemy's works, 
 hoping thereby to locate the man who had ruined his new $18 
 hat, the captain at length discovered the object of his annoyance 
 crouching behind one of the field guns, distinctly to be seen 
 through the embrasure. Watching a favorable opportunity, the 
 intrepid Union officer, after carefully adjusting the sight on his 
 rifle, and taking deliberate aim, let drive at his antagonist, who, 
 at the moment, rifle in hand, appeared at the opening. Although 
 an expert marksman, Captain Stewart, greatly to his mortifica- 
 tion and disappointment, found his shot ineffective, as the next 
 instant a curl of white smoke and the whiz of a bullet in close 
 proximity to his left ear fully satisfied him. 
 
 Convinced he had a foeman worthy of his steel to deal with, 
 and that heroic measures or a clever ruse must be adopted to 
 circumvent his wily antagonist, Captain Stewart, recalling some 
 of Davy Crockett's devices in his warfare with Indians, finally 
 hit upon a plan that he hoped would prove successful in putting 
 hors du combat the enterprising Confederate who had bored a 
 big hole through his hat, and attempted to rob him of life and 
 further usefulness to his country. Placing his hat on the muzzle 
 of his loaded rifle he elevated the weapon a foot or two above 
 where he was lying on the ground, and the next instant, deceived 
 by the decoy, the exultant Confederate blazed away. In doing 
 so, he exposed, as Captain Stewart had supposed he would, the 
 upper portion of his body, and ere he could lower his still smok- 
 ing rifle or withdraw from the open port-hole, an unerring ball 
 from the patient Union captain's gun went crashing through the 
 confident Confederate's head, thus effectually closing one of the 
 most interesting incidents of the battle. 
 
 Captain Stewart, satisfied with the result of the encounter, 
 and feeling he had no more to apprehend from that particular 
 Confederate, rejoined his men, a few yards away, and after bid- 
 ding them closely watch the two guns pointing dangerously 'in 
 their direction, gave no further thought to the stirring incident 
 in which he had been one of the principal actors.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 161 
 
 An hour or so after this, however, when Captain Stewart, at 
 the head of his command, charged the hill occupied by the enemy, 
 and, sword in hand, leaped into the Confederate works, bristling 
 with men and bayonets, which he quickly brushed aside, he was 
 surprised to find that the man with whom he had had the deadly 
 encounter, was no less a personage than the commander of the 
 battery Captain William C. Martin, whom he had long known 
 at his boyhood home, as a resident of Washington, Warren 
 County, New Jersey. 
 
 Saddened for a moment at this recognition, Captain Stewart, 
 animated by the cheers of his men, as well as by the loud huzzas 
 of the gallant Fifty-first Pennsylvania Regiment, under the noble 
 and intrepid Hartranft, which closely followed the Ninth New 
 Jersey into the works at this point, reformed his company and 
 instantly started in pursuit of the hastily retreating foe towards 
 the city of Newbern, two miles away, and on the morrow re- 
 traced his steps to the blood-stained field, where he gave decent 
 sepulture to the brave but misguided Jerseyman, who, unlike the 
 Copperheads at home, had the courage of his convictions and 
 bravery enough to fight for a cause he had been taught to believe 
 was right. 
 
 I might add that had not Captain Stewart stopped to view 
 the body of the Confederate he could readily have secured a 
 battle-flag within his reach, belonging to the "Beaufort Plow- 
 boys," which one of his sergeants found in the grasp of the dead 
 standard-bearer the first Confederate ensign captured in battle 
 by New Jersey troops, and which, after careful preservation by 
 the state authorities, the Legislature, at my request, three years 
 ago, ordered to be returned by the survivors of the Ninth Regi- 
 ment to the patriotic governor Glenn of the Old North State, 
 which was accordingly so done during the ceremonies attending 
 the unveiling of the Ninth's monument in the National Cemetery 
 at Newbern. 
 
 General Stewart was the last colonel of the Ninth, and in 
 the last campaign of the war commanded a division in the Twen- 
 ty-third Corps, blazing the way from Newbern to Goldsboro, and 
 for distinguished gallantry, as well as in his capture of that city, 
 was promoted to brigadier-general. He is the only New Jersey 
 officer of that rank now surviving. 
 
 For some years General Stewart was chief of police of Phila- 
 delphia, and I am glad to know that to-day, with no shadow of 
 the old peril on his still handsome face, he is occupying a high 
 position on an official board in the City of Brotherly Love, and 
 enjoying the respect of his fellow-citizens.
 
 162 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 BRAVE SOLDIER WHOM LINCOLN KISSED. 
 
 COLONEL CHARLES H. HOUGHTON, past comman- 
 der of the Department of New Jersey, G. A. R., enjoys 
 the singular distinction of having, when a full grown 
 man, been affectionately kissed by President Lincoln. Colonel 
 Houghton, at an early age, raised and organized Company L. 
 Fourteenth New York Heavy Artillery. 
 
 When General Grant, in the early spring of 1864, started 
 overland for Richmond, and went thundering through the Wil- 
 derness to besiege the Confederate capital, he took with him the 
 Fourteenth Regiment and other commands of heavy artillery 
 that had had pleasant occupation for a long period in guarding 
 the fortifications about Washington. 
 
 It is not my purpose to rehearse the valuable services ren- 
 dered by Captain Houghton and his command in the arduous 
 and deadly campaign, which lasted all through 1864, only ending 
 April 9, 1865, by the triumph of the glorious Army of the Poto- 
 mac, at Appomattox, and the surrender of General Lee and the 
 immortal remnant of his gallant Army of Northern Virginia 
 to General Grant, but to recite the circumstances under which 
 the "Greatest American" bent over a lowly cot in a field hos- 
 pital, filled with dead and dying braves, and impressed his elo- 
 quent lips on the cheek of the wan and pale-faced and apparently 
 dying soldier. 
 
 For the great skill and bravery displayed by Captain Hough- 
 ton in a desperate charge he made at the time of the Mine Ex- 
 plosion, in front of Petersburg, commonly known as the "Battle 
 of the Crater," he was assigned by General Grant to the com- 
 mand of Fort Haskell, a very important and exposed position, 
 having under his charge in the works three hundred and fifty 
 men, including Captain Werner's Third New Jersey Light Bat- 
 tery, and other artillery organizations. 
 
 It was by Captain Houghton's heroic defense of Fort Has- 
 kell, early on the morning of March 25, 1865, when he admin- 
 istered a stunning defeat to General John B. Gordon's fierce 
 attempt to break through General Grant's lines, that he received 
 three ghastly wounds, one of which was produced by a shell 
 exploding at his feet, carrying away his right leg, torn off above 
 the knee. 
 
 Although I have frequently met Colonel Houghton at the 
 annual reunions of the Medal of Honor Legion (of which we
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 163 
 
 are both members), I have never heard my gallant friend allude 
 to the particular circumstance that impels this sketch. 
 
 In the unexpected and terrific onslaught which General 
 Gordon made before daylight that ever memorable March morn- 
 ing, a fortnight before Appomattox became a familiar name 
 the wide world over, Captain Houghton's bright blade, gleaming 
 amid red glare and early morning light, and his Spartan-like ex- 
 ample incited his men to deeds of as .great heroism as were 
 ever displayed on fields of carnage. His tall, lithe and manly 
 form loomed everywhere along the serried Union line, illumined 
 by the red glare of guns, both great and small, which melted the 
 charging lines as mist before the rising sun. His face, bright- 
 ened at times by the gallant conduct of his braves, many of 
 whom had been his boyhood companions, and again over- 
 shadowed with anxiety and the fearful responsibility resting 
 upon his young shoulders, lest Gordon's inspired followers 
 might yet succeed in forcing their way through his weak line, 
 thus jeopardizing the safety of the army, and again pained on 
 seeing his devoted followers fall by his side like leaves in 
 autumn. 
 
 Major William S. Greenough, of the Eighteenth New 
 Hampshire Volunteers, who was sorely wounded in front of 
 Petersburg April 2, 1865, and carried to the hospital at City 
 Point, nine miles in the rear, recently narrated the following 
 intensely interesting story, being a witness of the pretty inci- 
 dent in the official life of our sainted President. After describ- 
 ing the rude frame hospital building in which he and nearly 
 one hundred officers lay bleeding on cots, he said : 
 
 "In the first of a long row of buildings, known as the 'offi- 
 cers' ward,' there were on the afternoon of April 2, 1865, sixty 
 officers of the Ninth Corps, all of whom had been wounded in 
 the Fort Stedman fight of March 25, or in the operations on 
 the Petersburg lines of April 1 and 2. As one entered the 
 "building from the main avenue, there lay in the first cot of the 
 right-hand row a young officer in whom all the other occu- 
 pants of the building (who were not too much engrossed with 
 their own troubles) were deeply interested, Captain Charles H. 
 Houghton, of the Fourteenth New York Heavy Artillery. 
 
 "Captain Houghton had borne a highly distinguished part 
 in the daybreak fight at Fort Stedman, and later in the morn- 
 ing, in the defense of Fort Haskell, received three severe 
 wounds. Two of these wounds had been received very early in 
 the action, but the captain had resolutely refused to leave his
 
 164 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 command until Gordon's Confederates had all been killed, cap- 
 tured or driven back, Fort Stedman re-taken, and our lines re- 
 established. His splendid bravery had been highly commended 
 by his superior officers, and for it he was promoted by the 
 President to the rank of brevet-major. 
 
 "When placed in the next cot to Major Houghton's, late 
 in the afternoon of April 2, I was familiar with the story of 
 his bravery, as were most of the men of our division, and so 
 long as life lasts shall I be thankful for the privilege of a fort- 
 night's study of his patience, modesty, cheerfulness and heroism. 
 Major Houghton's age was probably about 22 or 23 years. 
 About six feet in height and slender, with classic features, very 
 black hair and full black eyes, he was a noble-looking soldier. 
 He had suffered amputation of the right leg above the knee, and 
 in consequence was extremely pale ; his life, indeed, was thought 
 to hang by a thread, and the very first inquiry in the morning 
 and throughout the day from the occupants of the cots was 
 'How is Houghton? Will he pull through?' 
 
 "It happened that my injury necessitated lying on my left 
 side, and so, separated as our cots were, by little more than an 
 arm's length, I was privileged to watch, to study, to pity and 
 to love this man. On the night of April 6 there came a seri- 
 ous crisis in Houghton's case, through a secondary hemorrhage 
 of an artery of the amputated limb. Surgeons and nurses 
 worked until daylight to assuage the flowing lifeblood. All in 
 the ward were deeply interested, and there was many a sigh of 
 relief from his companions when in the early morning word went 
 down the line of cots that the artery had been 'taken up,' and 
 there was yet ground for hope. 
 
 "About 9 o'clock of the following morning the door which 
 I lay facing opened, and from the surgeon in charge of the 
 corps hospital, Dr. McDonald, came the command 'Attention! 
 The President of the United States.' To myself, and prob- 
 ably to most of us, this was unexpected, for we had not known 
 that President Lincoln had been visiting the army. 
 
 "Raising my eyes to the doorway, I had my first sight of 
 the President, and it was not an impressive one. His clothes 
 were travel-stained, ill-fitting, and very dusty; his hat was 
 an immensely exaggerated type of the 'stovepipe' variety; his 
 neckwear was awry, and his face showed pressing need of the 
 services of a barber. In short, his whole appearance seemed 
 to justify the caricaturists of those days in their worst cartoons. 
 
 "Unescorted, except by the surgeon, the President, bowing
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 
 
 165 
 
 ihis tall form to enter the low doorway, stepped in, turned a step 
 er two to the right, and, tenderly placing his hand on Hough- 
 ton's forehead, stood for an instant looking into his face; then, 
 bending down to the low cot, as mother would to her child, he 
 kissed Houghton's white cheek. 
 
 "In voice so tender and so low that only my near proximity 
 enabled me to hear, he began to talk to him, telling him how 
 he had heard from Dr. McDonald all the story of his bravery 
 in battle, his heroic fight for life, and quiet cheerfulness in hos- 
 pital, and of the sad happening of the night. 
 
 "Poor Hou.ghton could only reply with faint smiles and 
 whispers that were too low to reach my ears, but Mr. Lincoln 
 heard, and a smile came to his grave face. Turning to the 
 surgeon, the President asked to be shown the major's wounds, 
 especially the amputated limb. Dr. McDonald tried to dissuade 
 Tiim by saying the sight, especially after what had just taken 
 place, would be too shocking. But the President insisted, 
 turned down the light covering and took a hasty look. Straight- 
 ening up with a deep groan of pain and throwing up both his 
 long arms, he cried out, 'Oh, this awful, awful war!' Then 
 bending again to Houghton, with tears cutting wide furrows 
 down his dust-stained cheeks, and with great sobs shaking him, 
 he exclaimed: 'Poor boy! Poor boy! You must live! You 
 must !' This time the major's whispered answer, 'I intend to, 
 sir,' was just audible. With a tender parting handshake and 
 a 'God bless you, my boy,' the President moved to the next 
 cot in line, and to the next, and so on down the right and back 
 on the left side of the ward, with a warm handclasp and a simple, 
 kind, fatherly word for each one. Then he passed out of the 
 same door he had entered perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes 
 before. 
 
 "But for us it was a different place. We had seen there 
 the soul of our great chief." 
 
 USES HIS FIST IN CAPTURING FLAG. 
 
 THIS book would be incomplete without a narration of a gal- 
 lant action greatly distinguishing Captain Patrick DeLacy 
 of Scranton, Pa., a sergeant of the One Hundred and 
 Forty-third Pennsylvania Infantry, in the battles in the Wilder- 
 ness in the spring of 1864. Sergeant DeLacy had shown the 
 stuff of which he is made at the battle of Gettysburg, where, dur-
 
 166 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 ing the three days' fighting, his regiment took a prominent and 
 active part, and was greatly decimated in numbers. The thrill- 
 ing episode I will attempt to describe took place on the after- 
 noon of the second day of the desperate and prolonged battle in 
 the Wilderness, where Wadsworth's Division of Hancock's 
 Corps won immortal renown by repelling fierce charges of Long- 
 street's Corps, and occupying its works, which had been gal- 
 lantly defended and tenaciously held. 
 
 It was after a brief respite that the survivors of the One 
 Hundred and Forty-third Regiment, who had occupied the time 
 at their disposal in cleaning their rifles and replenishing cartridge- 
 boxes with ammunition taken from the bodies of the dead which 
 surrounded them, were ordered by the "Superb" Hancock to ad- 
 vance and reinforce the depleted Union line at the Cross-Roads, 
 then in imminent danger of being overpowered. The One Hun- 
 dred and Forty-third, led by Company A, Sergeant DeLacy in 
 command, the commissioned officers having been rendered hors 
 du combat, dashed forward on the double-quick across an open 
 space towards the woods on the left of the plank road, Long- 
 street's advancing veterans on the Brock Road being less than 
 one hundred rods distant. 
 
 Under a terribly galling and destructive fire, a fierce storm 
 of iron and leaden hail, the impulsive and gallant Pennsylvanians, 
 who were dropping at every step, pushed on towards the objec- 
 tive point under the inspiring example and skillful leadership of 
 Sergeant DeLacy, who never quailed at any danger, nor sought 
 refuge in the red heat of battle. When the works had been 
 occupied, and the blue and gray lines grimly confronted each 
 other at a few rods' distance, a Confederate color-bearer, doubt- 
 less expecting his comrades would follow his heroic lead, leaped 
 over the works, and waved his tattered flag of rebellion in token 
 of defiance to the Unionists. The brave Southron's act, worthy of 
 all praise, was enthusiastically cheered by the Confederates, who, 
 however, seeing the utter futility of following his example, re- 
 mained behind their breastwork of heavy logs. 
 
 This act of defi on the part of the bold Confederate standard- 
 bearer had the same effect on Sergeant DeLacy that a red 
 fabric would produce if flaunted before a bovine, and so highly 
 enraged the Union sergeant that he instinctively sprang over 
 the earthwork behind which his command had taken refuge, and 
 sprinting along that narrow valley between the two lines of 
 deadly fire, with cannon thundering to his left and to his front, 
 amid a shower of leaden missiles, ran "into the jaws of Death,
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 167 
 
 into the mouth of hell," to punish an insolent foeman, and wrest 
 from him a piece of woof representing a cause abhorrent to 
 every fibre of his nature. 
 
 To the intense surprise of thousands of brave men who 
 witnessed this unparalleled act of daring, DeLacy quickly 
 reached the vaunting and unsuspecting Southerner, and dexter- 
 ously dealing him a blow with his right fist under the jaw that 
 would have reflected credit on the "champion pugilist of the 
 world," the standard-bearer and his "Bonnie Flag" went down, 
 and before the discomfitted Southron regained consciousness or 
 his comrades could intervene, DeLacy, who had seized the price- 
 less trophy, was speeding on his return to his command, running 
 the fiery gauntlet in safety, amid the hearty huzzas of the Union 
 troops, to the infinite surprise and chagrin of the Confederates, 
 who were doubtless struck with admiration at the successful 
 performance of an act that elicited the warmest commendation 
 on the part of DeLacy's companions, and secured for him the 
 Congressional Medal of Honor, the highest decoration for mili- 
 tary merit ever conferred by the United States Government to 
 its defenders. 
 
 THE GREAT RAILROAD RAID. 
 
 FEW people to-day recall the most thrilling and dramatic ad- 
 venture of the Civil War, in which some twenty patriotic 
 and self-sacrificing young Ohio soldiers engaged in the 
 early part of 1862, when they penetrated the enemy's country 
 several hundred miles to deal a severe blow to the Southern Con- 
 federacy. Had this remarkable enterprise, attended as it was 
 by deadly perils, resulted in success, the disastrous battle o 
 Shiloh (Pittsburg Landing) would not have been fought. 
 
 As it was never difficult to obtain fearless volunteers in the 
 Union army for any undertaking, however perilous, General O. 
 M. Mitchell, commanding the Union forces near Shelbyville, 
 Tenn., sent orders to the colonels of the three Ohio regiments of 
 Sill's brigade, to select a man from each company for "special 
 and hazardous service." This done, the men chosen were se- 
 cretly provided with the plain garb of every-day life, a large 
 revolver, plenty of ammunition, and a liberal supply of Confed- 
 erate notes. 
 
 The men were then quietly told to make their way to a com-
 
 168 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 mon point in Shelbyville to meet J. J. Andrews, a noted Union 
 scout, under whose orders they would act. On reaching the 
 rendezvous the volunteers were bidden by their leader, a perfect 
 stranger to the entire party, to form squads, travel east into 
 the Cumberland mountains, then southerly to the Tennessee 
 River, and from thence to Chattanooga, at that time a small 
 village occupied by a strong force of Confederates, where a train 
 would be taken for Marietta, Georgia. Despite manifold dan- 
 gers and many misgivings on the part of the bold adventurers, 
 the entire party succeeded in reaching the railroad station at 
 Chattanooga on time, and at the hour designated all embarked for 
 Marietta, arriving there at midnight and registering at the Tre- 
 mont House, where beds were occupied for the last time in many 
 weary and painful months. 
 
 Andrews, leader of the expedition, who scarcely closed his 
 eyes during the night, roused his followers before daybreak, and 
 gathering them in his room, gave the following instructions: 
 
 "When the train we are about to take stops at 'Big Shanty/ 
 (now Kenesaw) for breakfast keep your places till I tell you to 
 go. Get seats near each other in the same car and say nothing 
 about the matter on the way up. If anything unexpected occurs 
 look to me for the word. You and you (designating the men) 
 will go with me on the engine; all the rest will go to the left 
 of the train forward of where it is uncoupled, and climb on the 
 cars in the best places you can when the order is given. If any- 
 body interferes, shoot him, but don't fire until it is necessary." 
 
 Andrews, during the conference, took the precaution to keep 
 his bedroom door locked. At length, when the train came slowly 
 up to the station, the adventurers saw that three closed box-cars 
 were attached immediately behind the engine, with several pas- 
 senger cars in the rear. Andrews and his men purchased tickets to 
 various points along the line of the road to prevent suspicion, as 
 it was quite unusual for so many persons to board a train at 
 Marietta at one time. 
 
 It was a thrilling moment when the conductor. William A. 
 Fuller, comparatively a young man, and brave and active, as was 
 soon after ascertained, called: "Big Shanty! Twenty minutes 
 for breakfast !" This station had been selected for the seizure of 
 the train because it was a stopping place for breakfast and without 
 a telegraph office, although it was an important military post, 
 occupied by no less than four Confederate regiments, numbering 
 one thousand men each. 
 
 The train had scarcely stopped ere the hungry engineer, fire-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 169 
 
 man, conductor and most of the passengers, hastened to the long, 
 low shed which gave the station its name, on the side opposite the 
 encampment, for breakfast. Andrews, accompanied by Engineer 
 Knight, without turning his eyes to his anxious men, rose from 
 his seat and went out of the car with the crowd that was pouring 
 out to get something to eat. When they reached the locomotive 
 and saw at a glance that it had been deserted, the two men re- 
 traced their steps to the rear of the third box-car, from the 
 coupling of which the engineer deftly and quickly withdrew the 
 iron pin, laying it carefully on the draw-bar. 
 
 It was at this highly-exciting moment, and only then, that 
 the imperturbable Andrews mounted the platform of the car in 
 which his followers were still seated, and opening the door, said 
 in his ordinary tones: "Come, boys; it is now time to go." Can 
 you, reader, imagine the state of mind among those brave and 
 desperate men at this supreme moment of action ? They realized 
 the imminent dangers by which they were surrounded, the swiftly- 
 passing moments seeming like hours. They knew the desperate 
 work they had set out to accomplish, for which they had per- 
 formed a long and fatiguing journey through the heart of the 
 Southern Confederacy, the second act of which they were just 
 entering upon, and that but a few seconds remained in which to 
 accomplish a necessary part of their mission, or be slaughtered 
 on the spot by ready soldiers. Each man keenly realized that 
 he who failed to get within the car selected would be lost. 
 
 The instant Andrews saw his men upon the ground he 
 quietly ordered them to get into the hindmost box-car, the door 
 of which he had previously audaciously opened, so thoughtful 
 was he of every necessary movement. His followers needed no 
 urging, and although the floor of the car was breast high, and 
 armed Confederate soldiers were doing duty within a few paces 
 of the train, they all clambered in without molestation on the part 
 of the soldiers, who watched their action without interest. 
 
 When Andrews saw the last man safely aboard the car, 
 he glided swiftly forward, and Engineer Knight seeing him rap- 
 idlv approaching, sprang on the engine, cut the bell-rope, and 
 seizing the throttle-bar, stood leaning forward with tense muscles 
 and both eyes fastened on the anxious but determined face of 
 his leader. As the latter bounded upon the locomotive he gave 
 a significant nod to the waiting engineer, who, quick as a flash, 
 opened the valve that unchained the steam giant they had cap- 
 tured. 
 
 But, horror of horrors! For a single instant, a seeming
 
 170 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 eternity to Andrews, the engine failed to move forward, the engi- 
 neer in his wild excitement having too suddenly thrown on the 
 full power, thus causing the wheels to slip on the rails and 
 swiftly revolve. The engineer, however, speedily overcame the 
 inertia, and before the staring soldiers had time to raise their 
 muskets or raise an alarm, which they did not think it their 
 duty to do, the rapidly revolving wheels "bit" the iron tracks and 
 the train shot forward as if fired from a catapult. 
 
 The bold raiders, in an ecstacy of delight over their truly 
 wonderful triumph a moment of rapture that never returned 
 to any of them and with greater confidence than ever in their 
 skillful leader, were at last on the most perilous part of their 
 journey, with absolute faith in the successful accomplishment 
 of their self-imposed task. The door of the box-car, in which 
 were huddled nineteen men, instantly closed when they took pos- 
 session, was never opened when nearing or passing a station. 
 
 I cannot attempt to picture, much less describe, within the 
 limits of the space allowed me, the course of the runaway train, 
 as it dashed along upon the well-worn light iron rails, around 
 short curves and over covered frail wooden bridges spanning 
 streams, nor tell of the quick pursuit and hot chase by the con- 
 ductor who had been deprived of his train. Suffice it to say, the 
 latter, securing another train which came unexpectedly into his 
 hands, made immediate pursuit, resulting in the running down 
 of the runaway, after a most exciting chase of many miles, almost 
 to Chattanooga itself. 
 
 Rev. William Pittenger, a private in the Second Ohio Regi- 
 ment, a member of the expedition, and after the war a Methodist 
 clergyman stationed for some years in South Jersey, in his book,. 
 "Daring and Suffering," in describing the pursuit and movement 
 of the runaway train, wrote: 
 
 "There was an exultant sense of superiority while moving 
 along in the midst of our enemies in this manner, such as a man 
 in a balloon might feel while drifting over hostile camps, or over 
 the raging waves of the ocean. As long as all is well with his 
 balloon the man need not care what takes place in the world 
 below; and as long as our engine retained its power, and the 
 track was clear before us, we were in a similar state of security. 
 But a knife-blade thrust in the silk globe overhead, or the slight- 
 est tear in the delicate fabric will, in a second, take away the 
 security of the man in the clouds. So the loosening of a bolt 
 or the breaking of a wheel would leave us powerless in the midst 
 of our deadly enemies. It was such possibilities, always so near,.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 171 
 
 that imparted thrilling interest to our passage through towns and 
 fields and woods in the heart of the enemy's country." 
 
 While, from a combination of unlooked-for causes, not the 
 least of which was a raging rain-storm, insuring the safety of 
 bridges which the raiders intended to destroy by fire, the daring 
 project failed of consummation, it was not wholly without bene- 
 ficial results to our army in the southwest, owing to a diversion 
 of the enemy's forces, then on the way to attack Grant at Shiloh. 
 The raid, too, was worth a great deal, if it only dispelled the 
 delusion entertained by many both north and south before the 
 war, that "one Southern man was worth five 'Yankees !' " An- 
 drews' bold and dashing raid shook this feeling, and caused 
 Southerners thereafter to respect the possibilities of Northern 
 valor. 
 
 When within nine miles of Chattanooga, the objective point 
 of the raiders, the stolen engine, out of water and fuel, and 
 otherwise disabled, with persistent, relentless pursuers close at 
 hand, came to a full and final stop. It was alone in its glory, 
 the box-cars having, one by one, been detached along the road, 
 with the view of checking the progress of the pursuing train. 
 
 The moment of the terrible parting had arrived. The brave 
 and gallant men who had perilled everything to serve the cause 
 to which they were ardently devoted, and who had been in exult- 
 ing raptures during the day over the success attending their 
 efforts, had at last come to the parting of the ways. With many 
 armed pursuers close at hand, one by one descended to the step 
 of the still moving locomotive, swung off, and sought safety in 
 hurried flight into the adjoining woods. The greatest railroad 
 raid and chase ever conceived and carried out, was ended ! 
 
 The entire party was soon after captured among the moun- 
 tains in East Tennessee, and immediately confined in dungeons 
 at Knoxville and Chattanooga. On the eighth of June, Andrews, 
 the leader, was hung on Peachtree avenue, Atlanta (now a fash- 
 ionable thoroughfare), the heavy chains with which he had been 
 manacled, clanking harshly as he walked upright to the 
 rude gallows. A vast crowd of spectators witnessed the execu- 
 tion, a bungling affair, the cotton rope attached to his neck 
 stretching so much that after the drop the shackled feet rested 
 upon the ground. When sufficient earth had been shoveled away^ 
 the soul of the brave and uncomplaining scout was liberated. 
 
 A few days afterwards occurred on the same spot, the exe- 
 cution of seven gallant Ohio soldiers, whose only crime was 
 faithful service to their country. They died together, or rather
 
 172 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 would have done so had not the ropes to which two of their 
 number had been fastened, broken when they dropped. While 
 five corpses dangled in the sultry air of that hot June day, the 
 two heroic men thus precipitated to the ground, after recovering 
 from a state of insensibility, begged for water, and when their 
 burning thirst had been somewhat quenched, they implored for 
 an hour's time in which to pray and make peace with their Crea- 
 tor. The Confederates, not wishing to prolong the agony of 
 the spectacle, at once procured new ropes, and after adjusting 
 the broken platform, again led the two men up the steps. Once 
 more these brave Union soldiers faced the great expectant throng, 
 many of whom, including Confederate soldiers, were in tears at 
 the sad sight, and in a few minutes all was over. As no coffins 
 had been provided, the moment life was extinct the seven bodies 
 were cut down and closely deposited in a shallow trench previously 
 excavated nearby. 
 
 The other members of the unfortunate expedition were con- 
 fined in various prisons until late in the summer of 1863, when 
 the United States obtained their release. They visited the White 
 House at Washington by invitation and talked with President 
 Lincoln and Secretary Stanton, and to each was given a Con- 
 gressional Medal of Honor. 
 
 "GUS" HOPKINS' BATTLE FOR WATER. 
 
 FORTY-FOUR years may not be considered much of a 
 span in the life of a Nation, and yet they are quite long 
 enough to change the face of the world. While the Vet- 
 eran Zouaves of Elizabeth were at Gettysburg last October, 
 viewing the historic field whose precious soil was reddened by 
 the blood of some members of the command in the long ago a 
 field made glorious by American valor, a field haunted by the 
 souls of their departed comrades, hallowed by living memories, 
 and made sacred as the spot whereon was imperishably written 
 in words of living light another chapter in the gospel of freedom 
 Augustus Hopkins, a member of the command, whose soul still 
 burns with patriotism and a love for our flag, entertained his 
 fellow Zouave pilgrims by relating numerous incidents of the 
 great three days' conflict, in which he took an humble though 
 active part. 
 
 After the Zouaves had descended Cemetery Hill, and the 
 automobiles in which they were making a tour of the field had 
 stopped at what is known as "Spangler's Spring," which flows
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 173- 
 
 as freely to-day as in those terribly hot days in July, 1863, when, 
 the life of the Nation was supremely at stake, and two hundred 
 thousand men at that point were locked in deadly embrace, "Gus" 
 sprang from the vehicle, and, after quenching his thirst from a 
 gourd filled with the crystal fluid, told the following story: 
 
 "Boys," said he to the Zouaves, "to the last breath of my 
 life I shall never cease to remember an adventure I had at this 
 spring at midnight July 2, 1863. Our corps the Twelfth 
 as you know, occupied the extreme right of our army during the 
 last two days of the battle, and it was along Rock Creek here, 
 after repulsing two fierce attacks of Swell's Corps, that we 
 had a lively and interesting time with the 'Johnnies' in preventing 
 them from outflanking our corps, thus saving our army from 
 defeat, if not capture. 
 
 "It was as hot as Hades, if that place is as warm as some 
 men represent it, in these woods that second of July night. Not 
 a breath of air was stirring all was as still as death. With 
 others, I was suffering intensely for the want of water; so much 
 so, in fact, that my tongue at times cleaved to the roof of my 
 mouth. I couldn't have expectorated had I tried, so terrible 
 and burning was my thirst, so parched was my throat, and I 
 determined to procure water, however dangerous and difficult 
 the undertaking. Collecting half a dozen empty canteens belong- 
 ing to the dead and dying about me, I started down the steep hill 
 toward this spring, which I had located during the afternoon, and 
 which I had since covetously regarded. For hours it had been 
 my heart's desire to reach the spring. 
 
 "Within the deep shadows of the woods surrounding me 
 everything was as dark as Erebus, and the silence of death 
 reigned. Not a star was visible through the dense foliage above 
 me, as I cautiously pursued my way, intently listening for any 
 sound that might betoken the whereabouts of any wideawake 
 'Johnny,' and I finally succeeding in reaching the object of my 
 fondest desire this blessed spring of water without discovery 
 or molestation on the part of the exhausted and heavy-sleeping 
 Confederates whom I knew must be in close proximity. 
 
 "After filling my canteens and myself by copious draughts 
 of the cool and refreshing God-given beverage until I thought 
 my skin would explode, remembering very well what the Governor 
 of North Carolina said to the Governor of South Carolina on a 
 certain memorable occasion, and well satisfied with the success 
 that had attended my efforts, I started on my return to our lines, 
 and when about half way up the long and tiresome hill, was sud-
 
 174 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 -denly set upon by a powerfully-built man, who sprang from behind 
 a tree, and seized me with a vise-like grip at my throat, hissing, 
 'You're my prisoner!' 
 
 "In the life and death struggle which instantly followed, I 
 dropped my rifle and grappled with the fellow, whom I quickly 
 threw to the ground, and as he retained his hold I went down 
 with him. I was no slouch in those days in a rough and tumble 
 scratch, and after a desperate struggle in which I nearly squeezed 
 the life out of him, I finally put him to sleep by hitting him on 
 the head with a canteen then deeming discretion the better part 
 of valor, I took to my heels and was soon among my friends in 
 the Twentieth, who rejoiced to get the water I had procured. 
 
 "Lieutenant-Colonel Wooster, a few days after learning of 
 the matter, instead of court-martialing me for leaving camp with- 
 out permission, made me a sergeant. The next afternoon Pickett 
 made his superb charge across those deadly fields in the valley 
 against our living wall of blue on Cemetery Hill, but all I saw or 
 heard of it were the comparatively harmless shot and shell which 
 came bounding over the hill from the right of Seminary Ridge, 
 where Longstreet's Corps was posted, and on tm Fourth we 
 commenced our long chase of Lee to the left bank of the Potomac 
 River, which General Meade gave him ample time to cross with 
 what remained of his gallant but defeated army." 
 
 After Sergeant Hopkins had finished his interesting story, 
 the Zouaves refreshed themselves from the famous and ever- 
 living spring, and were rapidly whirled to their hotel in the 
 quaint old town, reaching the hostelry just as the shades of an 
 October night were veiling the grand old hills about the historic 
 place. 
 
 May not the Zouaves, while bivouacing on the sunlit and 
 ever-glorious field of Gettysburg last fall, have seen phantom 
 charges, with long lines melding away even as the snows of winter 
 under the genial sunshine of springtime ghosts in blue and gray 
 grappling at the spring and on the grassy hillsides ? 
 
 May not the bivouac of the Zouaves have been attended by 
 the spirits of their former companions in arms, who sleep the 
 sleep that knows no waking, and who there won both peace and 
 glory for themselves and our blessed land? May it not be 
 possible that our dead heroes reassemble at Gettysburg and live 
 over again those three momentous July days, when they helped 
 to decide the fate of a continent, and hewed out through the red 
 ^soil of human flesh a path that is to be followed by all mankind ? 
 
 It seemed so to the Zouaves last October.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 175 
 
 SOLDIER SAVES SHIP'S CREW. 
 
 AMONG the very gallant men who faithfully and efficiently 
 served our country during the four years of the Civil War, 
 was Corporal Samuel J. Dilks, who long since passed from 
 earth to that eternal home from whence none in all the ages past 
 and gone have ever yet returned. 
 
 The corporal, who belonged to my company, distinguished 
 himself above his fellows on numerous occasions, but more espe- 
 cially did he show the stuff of which he was made when he saved 
 an entire ship's crew from being entombed in the Atlantic Ocean 
 during a fierce storm, in which many vessels went to Davy Jones' 
 locker. 
 
 Dilks, born in Cape May, within sight of the everlasting 
 waters which constantly wash the low pebbly strand near his 
 humble habitation, whose peaceful and ever-rolling surf often 
 lulled him to sleep, as well as awakened within him a spirit of 
 unrest and ambition, joined Company K, Ninth New Jersey 
 Volunteers, in October, 1861, and after passing unscathed through 
 more than one hundred engagements, returned home at the close 
 of the conflict to shortly after surrender his spirit to its Maker, 
 and was tenderly laid away with those of his kin who had gone 
 before. 
 
 Corporal Dilks, having followed a seafaring life from boy- 
 hood, was detailed at Fortress Monroe for special service on the 
 steam transport "Pocahontas," one of the numerous craft com- 
 posing the armada which rendezvoused there in January, 1862, 
 under command of the patriotic and noble-hearted General Am- 
 brose E. Burnside. 
 
 The "Pocahontas," a worn-out screw propeller, heavily laden 
 with artillery horses and military supplies, had been chartered by 
 the Government under representations of her loyal and patriotic 
 ( ?) owners, blessed or cursed with elastic consciences, that the 
 vessel came up to all the requirements of the service, and in 
 due time the rotten old hulk, for such it proved to be, steamed 
 out of Hampton Roads on her final voyage, as my story will 
 show. 
 
 While lumbering down the treacherous coast the "Pocahon- 
 tas" was struck by a fierce gale of wind and snow, before which 
 it was driven with irresistible force. The night came on with 
 Cimmerian darkness, rendering it impossible for those on board 
 the ill-fated craft to see anything with distinctness, and despite
 
 176 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 the combined efforts of the brave soldiers and sailors, the steamer r 
 laboring hard, could not be kept head to the angry seas. The 
 increasing winds blew with hurricane force, and the white waves 
 ran mountain high, oftentimes almost burying the vessel beneath 
 tons of water covering the deck, causing all to fear that each 
 succeeding moment must be the last. 
 
 At times the "Pocahontas" lay almost becalmed between over- 
 towering waves at one moment in the deep trough of the sea, 
 at the next far up on the dissolving crest of a mighty and treach- 
 erous billow. Competent men at the wheel, to which they were 
 lashed, labored to keep the vessel's bow seaward, hoping it would 
 be able to ride out the storm in safety. The hatches had long 
 since been battened down and everything made as secure as possi- 
 ble. The officers, feeling the terrible responsibility resting upon 
 them, paced the slippery deck anxiously discussing the proba- 
 bility of saving the ship. The men, realizing the awful dangers 
 surrounding them, were quiet and obedient, acting throughout the 
 long and terrible night in a manner worthy of the highest com- 
 mendation. 
 
 When morning at last broke, the sight presented to the view 
 of the distressed mariners was awe-inspiring. To their horror 
 they beheld the low-ribbed shore but a short distance away, and 
 to it the fated craft was swiftly sweeping on the merciless flood. 
 The last hope fled when a huge, resistless wave fell like an ava- 
 lanche upon the steamer's deck, tearing therefrom the stout oaken 
 planks as if they had been paper. A flood of water at once 
 found its way below, extinguishing the furnace fires. 
 
 It was in this dire extremity, as a dernier resort, that the 
 heavy port anchor was let go with a run, in obedience to the orders 
 of the brave-hearted captain, and as the heavy chain passed 
 through the hawser-hole the friction was so great that a stream 
 of fire followed in its wake. Would the anchor hold? was the 
 anxious query of every man on board. Would it keep the now 
 helpless steamer from the drear and uninviting shore? These 
 were the all-absorbing questions of the imperiled crew. 
 
 The fatal moment, however, was not long in coming, as, with 
 a frightful thump the "Pocahontas" struck broadside on, immense 
 seas, quickly succeeding each other, sweeping completely over 
 her. Each incoming gigantic wave played with the vessel as 
 with a toy. raising the doomed craft to its summit, then hurling 
 it like a chip, to the ocean's bottom, its timbers snapping and 
 cracking with alarming distinctness, apparently ending all hope 
 for a rescue.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 177 
 
 While the anxiously looked-for day had come, it afforded but 
 little encouragement to the fatigued and distressed crew, whose 
 only instinct was self-preservation, as it soon became apparent 
 that the vessel must be quickly abandoned. But how could this 
 be done ? The two small boats that had hung on the davits when 
 the vessel left Fortress Monroe, were found, upon examination, 
 to be useless, having been stove in by rough usage of the waves; 
 Indeed, were the boats in proper condition and successfully 
 launched, they could not live an instant in the almost cloud- 
 reaching billows which constantly engulfed the vessel. 
 
 The crew, now without hope of reaching shore in safety, 
 were suddenly brought to a realizing sense of the peril surround- 
 ing them, when Corporal Dilks, who had spent the night below 
 deck caring for the affrighted and suffering horses, appeared in 
 their midst, and, taking a view of the situation, proposed to swim 
 ashore with a line. Those about him stood aghast at the propo- 
 sition. " 'Tis the only road to safety," replied Dilks to the ex- 
 postulations of his companions. "No more talk, boys," he con- 
 tinued, "bring me a long light line, and I'll try it. I have been 
 in scrapes like this before." 
 
 Although naturally surprised at the bold proposition, the 
 sailors and soldiers, from what they had seen of Dilks, believed 
 him capable of accomplishing almost anything, and some of them 
 were put to shame when they saw this Jersey volunteer soldier 
 divest himself of coat and shoes, fasten one end of the line around 
 his waist, and, mounting the gunwale, await a favorable moment 
 for making his desperate plunge into the wild and cold waters. 
 Dilks, standing there with his long mustache floating in the 
 wind, was a subject for a painter. "Keep your eyes on me," he 
 said to his terror-stricken comrades, as he sprang in among 
 the violent and angry breakers, and almost before he could again 
 be seen the brave corporal was standing upon the misty strand, 
 exposed to a pitiless wind, blowing strongly from the northeast, 
 causing the hearts of the crew to beat more wildly than before, 
 as the hour and mode of deliverance seemed at hand. 
 
 A larger-sized rope was then attached to the end of the line 
 remaining on shipboard, and this Dilks hauled to the low, sandy 
 and storm-swept beach. Then, with a mighty effort, a hawser 
 was similarly drawn from the stranded ship to the shore, through 
 the herculean efforts of the corporal. This he was able to fasten 
 securely to an old spar he providentially discovered some little 
 distance away, and which he managed to sink in the wet sand by 
 excavating with his hands. When the shore end had thus been
 
 178 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 secured, the sailors tightened the hawser on the vessel's deck, 
 and one by one they deserted the doomed craft by means of the 
 improvised rope bridge, all reaching terra firma in safety, al- 
 though the difficult passage was far from being pleasant. Each 
 man was subjected to fearful perils, fierce billows at times passing 
 completely over and momentarily hiding the aerial passengers 
 from sight. The utmost caution was observed in traversing the 
 narrow and uncertain structure, which, moved by the breakers, 
 vibrated with terrible unsteadiness. 
 
 Although the sailors and soldiers had thus safely reached 
 the bleak and barren beach, they had not been able, in their en- 
 forced and hasty flight, to save any of their effects, and all they 
 possessed, as they stood wet and shivering from the icy blasts, 
 was upon their persons. The gale continuing with unabated 
 violence, the situation of these men was anything but inviting. 
 Not a sign of civilization was anywhere visible, and not a man 
 in the sad-hearted group had any means about him by which a 
 fire could be kindled, a necessity that was pressing upon them. 
 
 As the party, suffering intensely from the cold, was about 
 starting from the scene of mishap and misery, an agonizing 
 human cry was borne to it on the wings of the howling winds. 
 The men closely scan the shore, but not a living object save 
 some of Mother Gary's chickens, can be seen. While still paus- 
 ing and wondering what the sound means, a wild, agonizing cry 
 again pierces their ears, and looking seaward, to the still pound- 
 ing vessel, all beheld in horror, the old colored female cook, 
 standing at the ship's side, frantically waving a white apron, and 
 shrieking with all the strength of her powerful lungs. She had 
 been overlooked in the general flight, the men having all they 
 could do to attend to themselves. The crew saw the futility of 
 the woman's attempting to save herself by means of the rope- 
 bridge, and felt that any effort they would be able to make to 
 rescue her would be impotent. 
 
 Meantime the ship, rapidly going to pieces, continued to 
 dash upon the angry billows, portions of it being swept to the 
 shore. At one moment the craft would be on beam ends, but 
 would speedily right itself. Again it was believed to have dis- 
 appeared, carrying the aged cook to a watery grave, but upon its 
 reappearance and a renewal of appeals for help. Corporal Dilks, 
 whose heart had never quailed with fear, stood fast in his tracks, 
 and declared he would never leave the spot until the "old gal," 
 as he familiarly called her. was ashore in safety, or he had 
 found his fate in the angry seas. The corporal's companions,
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 179 
 
 water-soaked, hungry and distressed, and anxious to find a haven 
 of comfort, made every effort to dissuade him from attempting 
 a return to the foundered vessel, declaring it was little better 
 than self-destruction. Even were he able to reach the vessel, 
 they argued, he would not be able to bear the woman through 
 the waves, owing to her great weight, something more than 
 200 pounds. 
 
 But Corporal Dilks, to his everlasting honor be it said, paid 
 no heed to the objections interposed by his comrades; on the 
 contrary, the more they remonstrated against his proposed act, 
 the more determined was his resolve to do or die, and walking 
 deliberately out into the cold and raging surf, he seized the still 
 swinging hawser with his left hand, then swam vigorously with 
 his powerful right. His movements were closely watched by 
 those on shore, and when finally they saw him reach the vessel 
 and leap agilely over its side, and received a signal from him as 
 he gained the slippery deck, they acknowledged the greeting, 
 and responded with three of the heartiest cheers ever heard on 
 -that inhospitable beach. 
 
 The cook, who in her frenzy had been calling wildly for 
 assistance, while heartily glad to see Corporal Dilks standing at 
 her side, firmly declined to take advantage of the instruction 
 and advice tendered by the brave soldier, insisting that the cor- 
 poral, who, by the way, was of spare build, would be unable to 
 carry her ashore, which he told her, he had come to do. Dilks, 
 of course, thought the obdurate woman ungrateful and unap- 
 preciative, considering the sacrifice he had made in her behalf, 
 and unwilling or not, he determined, as he had incurred personal 
 risk in her behalf, that she should go ashore with him one way 
 or another. 
 
 Procuring a piece of light rope unperceived by the cook, 
 Dilks, watching his opportunity, quickly seized her in his iron 
 grasp, and deftly enveloping her arms, bound her to his back, 
 .and despite her quite formidable resistance, succeeded in getting 
 her to the ship's battered side, from which he plunged into the 
 seething waters, and almost before those on shore realized the 
 act, they saw the corporal, with his half-unconscious burden, 
 struggling in the angry surf, not many yards away. With a 
 cheer, the crew rushed into the foaming billows, and seizing the 
 almost exhausted but lion-hearted corporal, assisted him to a 
 place of safety. The cook no sooner found herself upon terra 
 firma than she gave vent to the great joy she felt by jumping 
 about on the sodden and storm-swept beach, in her rhapsody
 
 180 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 exclaiming, "Glory, glory, Hallelujah, praise the Lawd," to the 
 no small delight of her gallant preserver and his smiling com- 
 panions. 
 
 Then commenced a long, disagreeable and fatiguing tramp 
 down the inhospitable stretch of sand to Hatteras inlet, where 
 such vessels belonging to Burnside's fleet as had not been lost 
 in the hurricane, had already arrived. 
 
 UNPARALLELED FEAT OF TUNNELING. 
 
 THE death recently at Washington of Colonel Thomas El- 
 wood Rose of the Seventy-seventh Pennsylvania Volun- 
 teers, who greatly distinguished himself in the Civil War 
 by the performance of an unparalleled feat, brings to my mind 
 an incident that made him famous and attracted great attention 
 throughout the country at the time about which much has 
 since been said and written. It was in February, 1864, shortly 
 before General Charles A. Heckman and myself, captured in 
 battle at Drewry's Bluff, just below the Confederate capital, were 
 committed to the tender mercies of "Dick" Turner, the inhos- 
 pitable and surly keeper of Libby Prison, in Richmond, that the 
 country was startled by the daring escape from that closely- 
 guarded institution of Colonel Rose, projector of the enterprise, 
 and more than one hundred of his fellow-captives. 
 
 There has ever been a great fascination in the escape of pris- 
 oners, and considerable romantic literature furnished, from De 
 Saintine's "Piccola" to Baron Trenck's memoirs, as well as from 
 Dumas's "Monte Christo" to the story of Colonel Rose, whose 
 escape from Libby prison is considered as remarkable as any 
 ever performed. 
 
 Colonel's Rose's death, a few days ago, is a forcible re- 
 minder of what large human passions are concerned in the sim- 
 ple escape from durance vile, the insatiable love of freedom and 
 liberty of action, the inherent dislike of mean and depressing 
 conditions, the spirit of action and the hope of results which are 
 involved to make men undergo dangers more terrible than those 
 encountered on the battle-field, and engage in toil of the widest 
 and most painful nature, that they may again breathe the free 
 air of Heaven. 
 
 Can the reader imagine the manifold dangers, difficulties 
 and mountain of labor that beset Colonel Rose and his fifteen
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. lol 
 
 co-laborers as they burrowed night and day for more than two 
 weeks under the gloomy and forbidding-looking structure, in 
 which more than one thousand men of intrepid minds were 
 so crowded that they were compelled to sleep spoon-fashion, 
 head to head, and feet to feet? Having had a somewhat 
 similar experience in tunnel operations in various prison- 
 pens a little later in the same year, I can readily picture Col- 
 onel Rose and his devoted followers working with fever-like 
 haste under the most unfavorable circumstances, amid foul and 
 oppressive odors, in danger of suffocation, with hands bleeding 
 and strength exhausted. 
 
 Beneath the massive brick and heavily-timbered building, 
 whose great iron-barred cellars were often flooded by the waters 
 of the Kanawha Canal, ever flowing on the south side, Colonel 
 Rose and his fellow-workers began to dig for the liberty they 
 had panted during long and dreary months. Operations were 
 commenced in the easternmost apartment of the cellar, which 
 soon became known as "Rat's hell," owing to the multitude of 
 wharf rodents of immense size that had long held high revel 
 and complete sway therein. 
 
 Before engaging in his perilous undertaking, however, Colo- 
 nel Rose, in an eloquent and impassioned speech, with his miser- 
 -able and dejected fellow-sufferers gathered closely about him, 
 begged all to be true and steadfast in keeping the faith, as on 
 the successful accomplishment of the scheme secrecy was abso- 
 lutely necessary. He concluded his stirring appeal by adminis- 
 tering a solemn obligation to all to guard well the .greatest secret 
 that could be imparted to men in their condition, whose lives, 
 I might add, hung by a thread. All solemnly swore to be faith- 
 ful to the trust so generously reposed in them. 
 
 With every plan thoroughly matured, Colonel Rose and the 
 fifteen noble fellows he had selected for the dangerous and fatigu- 
 ing duty, after procuring a stout rope to be used as a means of 
 descending and ascending from their apartment on the first 
 floor to the uninviting cellar below, with the aid of an old and 
 rusty chisel surreptitiously furnished by an old darky employed 
 in the hospital, knocked a hole in the open fire-place, removing 
 the bricks one by one with scrupulous care. When the work of 
 the day or night had ended, the bricks were replaced and dex- 
 terously covered with chimney soot, the better to hide all trace 
 of having been tampered with. Colonel Rose had rightly guessed 
 that the Confederates who made daily "rounds" of inspection 
 would never look at the breast of the chimney, in plain view,
 
 182 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 and they never did, although they sometimes stopped before the 
 fire-place to toast their feet. 
 
 Colonel Rose, who had for a long time previously studied 
 the prison and its surroundings from an iron-barred window in 
 the east room (which I shortly afterwards occupied for a fort- 
 night), planned to dig a tunnel from the building to a vacant 
 wooden shed on the left bank of the canal, which although but 
 seventy-five feet distant, yet required the performance of her- 
 culean and distressingly painful labor in the accomplishment of 
 the self-imposed task. 
 
 Colonel Rose, first to disappear through the limited space 
 in the chimney, by means of the improvised ladder of rope, had 
 no sooner landed in the cellar, veiled in Stygian darkness, 
 than he was fiercely assailed by the army of ravenous rats of 
 immense proportions that had held undisputed possession of 
 the death-looking place. The colonel had considerable difficulty 
 in defending himself from the obstinate attacks of the rodents, 
 who sprang upon his person, frequently tearing flesh from his 
 unprotected neck and face, until those who followed succeeded 
 in reaching his side, and taking part in the desperate struggle, 
 aided him in driving the voracious animals away. 
 
 It was almost a superhuman task to force a passage through 
 the heavy foundation wall with the chisel, the only means for the 
 purpose to be had for love or money, but this task having at 
 length been accomplished, much remained to be done if the 
 liberty these brave men passionately sought was 1 to be secured. 
 
 Fortunately, it was seldom, if ever, that any of the prison- 
 guards had occasion to visit or explore the hidden depths of 
 the dark and hideous cellar in which the colonel and his fellows 
 were delving to secure freedom and liberty, hence the immunity 
 felt by the diggers. The mountain of earth, removed by degrees 
 in making this underground passage to the outer and brighter 
 world to liberty or death was scattered among the filth and 
 debris in the cellar. 
 
 The tunnel having at last been finished, Rose and his fifteen 
 close friends, early in the evening of February 9, 1864, lowered 
 themselves into the cellar for the last time, and passing through 
 the narrow, damp and airless aperture, emerged from the cir- 
 cumscribed exit under the rickety shed on the canal bank, where, 
 bidding each other farewell, the party separated, each following" 
 the bent of his own inclination, as had previously been agreed 
 upon. When Aurora began to gild the following morn with 
 bright and beautiful rays of promise, Colonel Rose was far
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 183 
 
 down the York River Railroad, congratulating himself upon the 
 fulfillment of his cherished plans. Barred from crossing the 
 Chickahominy bridge, at all times strongly guarded, he plunged 
 into adjacent swamps, dodged the enemy's pickets, and after 
 many lesser adventures, fell into the hands of three Confederate 
 soldiers, wearing blue uniforms, whom he mistook for friends. 
 During the afternoon, when within sight of Richmond, he man- 
 aged to .give the slip to his captors, but before the sun went 
 down behind the great pine woods through which he was labori- 
 ously making his way, he was again captured, this time by a 
 squad of cavalry that came suddenly upon him. Two hours, 
 after Colonel Rose was returned to Libby, where he remained 
 in close confinement until July 8, when he was specially 
 exchanged. 
 
 DESPERATE BATTLE WITH AN OPHIDIAN. 
 
 1DO not propose to write anything about the terrible suffer- 
 ings endured by my comrades while confined at Anderson- 
 
 ville, as the story is too well known to require repetition, but 
 simply to narrate a snake story that had a fatal termination in 
 the foul pen, ending in a bloody tragedy. 
 
 Christian Huber, of Elizabeth, was among the unfortunate 
 members of Company G captured at Drewry's Bluff, and was a 
 passenger on the illy-provided train which conveyed six hundred 
 unfortunates from Richmond to Georgia. 
 
 Huber, after reaching the pen at Andersonville, made a bur- 
 row to protect himself from sunshine and storm, and congratu- 
 lated himself upon possessing what he considered a comfortable 
 habitation. Despite his constant lack of food, from which all of 
 his more than 30,000 wretched comrades suffered alike, Huber 
 managed to keep in comparatively cheerful spirits. 
 
 It was in the early part of August that Huber experienced 
 great difficulty in obtaining sleep, so much so that on awaking, 
 he told those about him that somebody or something annoyed 
 him nightly. The fact was, Huber really suspected some of his 
 companions with playing tricks upon him. 
 
 It was just after daybreak on the morning of August 5 that 
 Huber suddenly awoke in great distress of mind and body to 
 find himself within the tightly embracing folds of an immense 
 ophidian, which had, without awaking him, encircled his body, 
 pinioning one arm, with painful force so great, in fact, that he
 
 184 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 breathed only by the greatest effort. Hubert's first impulse was 
 that some frenzied comrade, driven insane, as many of them 
 were, by the horrors of their situation, had environed his throat 
 with strong hands. A vise could hardly have been more effec- 
 tive. Upon opening his eyes Huber saw the head of a large 
 snake poised in great agitation directly over his face, swaying 
 to and fro in angry mood, making hideous grimaces, its long 
 spear-shaped tongue working with lightning-like rapidity, and 
 its glassy, basilisk eyes shining like orbs of fire. 
 
 Huber, instantly realizing his perilous situation, used his 
 free hand in seizing his snakeship by the neck, and by an almost 
 superhuman effort, succeeded in gaining his feet, when a des- 
 perate battle for the mastery took place. The snake, finding it- 
 self in Hubers vise-like grip, struggled fiercely, now and then 
 in its writhings and painful contortions, putting one or more 
 coils about his body. The struggle and Huber's calls for help 
 instantly brought nearby comrades to his assistance, but before 
 they could do anything to aid him, Huber and the ophidian, in 
 their battle for supremacy, trespassed within the dreaded space 
 known as the "dead line," whereupon a drowsy sentinel on 
 guard on the stockade overlooking that part of the pen, with 
 visions of an emeute before his half-opened eyes, lowered his 
 ever-ready rifle, took quick but deliberate aim, and fired 
 strange as it may appear, the bullet severing the head of the 
 serpent and passing through the heart of the prisoner, robbed 
 him of life. Huber never again breathed. 
 
 The incident created intense excitement for a time, but was 
 quickly forgotten, the starving men, apparently deserted by our 
 government, having more important matters to distract their 
 attention. 
 
 STRANGE WOUNDS ON BATTLE FIELD. 
 
 AMONG the Union volunteers who distinguished them- 
 selves in the Civil War was Edward La Fuley, living in 
 Elizabeth, with no shadow of peril on his face, however 
 disfigured it may have been by a remorseless bullet which crashed 
 through his jaw, tearing away several teeth and the major por- 
 tion of his tongue. 
 
 La Fuley, when the tocsin of war sounded that April morn 
 in 1861, was a resident of New York State. Ardently desiring 
 to serve his country in its great hour of need, although but a
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 185 
 
 mere boy, he enlisted in the Eleventh New York Battery of Ar- 
 tillery, which soon after became noted for its efficiency. 
 
 A mere stripling, his intelligence, attention to duty, faith- 
 fulness and extraordinary efficiency quickly won for him a place 
 in the esteem of his officers and comrades, and he was selected 
 as a gunner, for which important duty he soon gave remarkable 
 evidence of capacity. La Fuley's brazen dog of war soon became 
 a great pet with him as well as a terror to the enemy whenever 
 its deep-toned voice sounded. La Fuley speedily became an 
 expert shot, and on several occasions, notably at Gettysburg, did 
 particularly fine and skilful work. From the start he greatly 
 distinguished himself by superior marksmanship, and when any 
 difficult shots were required, was invariably selected for the task. 
 
 The Eleventh Battery took a prominent part in the three 
 days' fight at Gettysburg, in which the subject of my sketch 
 received a ghastly wound from a Confederate sharpshooter in 
 the "Devil's Den" that kept him in the hospital for long and 
 dreary months, until tired of the doctors and medicines, and 
 still weakened by his sufferings, he obtained consent to rejoin 
 his command, and made his weary way back to the Army of 
 the Potomac, which he reached in time to engage with it in the 
 disastrous Mine Run affair, where he received a singular wound 
 one that came near ending his life, and deprived him of the 
 power of articulation for several months thereafter. 
 
 La Fuley, heartily glad to be again with his comrades, and 
 rejoicing in his restoration to the command of his gun, was in 
 the act of drawing a fine bead on a group of horsemen, one 
 thousand yards away, when a big, rough, leaden bullet, fired by 
 a Confederate marksman, crashed through his beardless face, 
 passing into one cheek and out the other, carrying away several 
 teeth and a large portion of his tongue. 
 
 While feeling a sharp pain in his face, La Fuley experienced 
 no other sensation, and did not fully realize the extent of his in- 
 jury until a powder-begrimmed gunner at his side called atten- 
 tion to it, by pointing to a stream of blood pouring down his 
 neck upon his overcoat. Opening his mouth to reply to his 
 companion, he found himself unable to speak, and while making 
 a laborious attempt to do so, wondering what it all meant, he 
 emitted a number of teeth, as well as a considerable part of his 
 tongue, which the missile had severed. 
 
 When La Fuley, now greatly troubled in mind, gazed 
 upon the ground at his feet, and discovered his loss, he picked 
 up the "unruly member" and carefully guarding it, ran to a field
 
 186 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 hospital in the rear, where he surprised the surgeons by his sin- 
 gular exhibit, and an earnest request to put it back in his mouth 
 where it rightly belonged. Some of the surgeons quit the bloody 
 but humane task in which they were busily engaged, on learning 
 La Fuley's remarkable request, and made an examination of 
 the severed and apparently still quivering piece of his tongue, 
 together with the part remaining in his mouth. They declared 
 it quite impossible to perform the operation to attach the parts. 
 
 Perhaps I should explain that La Fuley, totally without 
 power of articulation, conveyed his wishes to the surgeons by 
 signs, a system upon which he had to rely for long months after- 
 ward. For a time the doctors were unable to fathom his desire,, 
 and it was only when he seized a needle and thread, which one 
 of the doctors held in his fingers, and pretended to run the steel 
 through the dismembered part, that they comprehended his 
 idea, and before the sun went down they had successfully accom- 
 plished the difficult and hitherto unheard of task. 
 
 La Fuley, in modestly telling of the great difficulties the 
 surgeons had in splicing the piece that had been ruthlessly torn 
 from his mouth, said he didn't mind the operation as much as 
 the inconveniences he afterward suffered, in not being able to 
 speak or hold conversation with those beside him. 
 
 "You know," said he, "that I am not much of a talker at 
 any time, but it wouldn't do for me to get excited in conversa- 
 tion, as my tongue, while apparently all right, is apt to lose con- 
 trol of itself arid flop backward, as if trying to get down my 
 throat, in which event I am speechless until I can bring the 
 uncontrollable part back with my finger to its proper position, 
 which I am frequently compelled to do." 
 
 "Oh, yes," continued the gallant veteran, who still bears 
 his sufferings and years quite well, "after my tongue healed I 
 rejoined my battery, and remained in the service until my term 
 of three years expired, when I returned home, the government 
 refusing to accept my services for another period owing to my 
 disabling wounds." 
 
 While on the subject of remarkable wounds received in 
 battle it may not be uninteresting for me to relate that very few 
 people ever learned just how the gallant and ever-to-be-lamented 
 Philip Kearny received his death wound at Chantilly. It was 
 some time after the body of the chieftain had been brought into 
 our lines, under a flag of truce, escorted by a picked body of
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 187 
 
 Confederate cavalry, before our surgeons were able to ascertain 
 where the deadly missile entered his body, a thorough and 
 patient examination being necessary to unravel the mystery. 
 
 It has always been known that General Kearny, on riding 
 into the midst of a number of Confederate soldiers on picket, 
 just at dusk, and seeing his imminent danger, suddenly wheeled 
 his horse and, bending low over the faithful animal's neck, 
 dashed away, followed by a shower of bullets, the most cruel one 
 entering the rectum, passing the length of the body, leaving but 
 a slight abrasion on the exterior, only distinguishable by the 
 most rigid examination of the part. 
 
 Captain Joseph Henry, of the Ninth New Jersey, was in- 
 stantly killed at Roanoke Island, and yet no mark was discovered 
 upon his uniform or person. The cannon ball which robbed him 
 of life and a promising career of usefulness had previously 
 severed both le,gs of Corporal John Lorence and one leg of 
 Jonathan Burel, of Company K, and instantly killed Isaac V. D. 
 Blackwell, of Company F, as well as knocking a rifle out of my 
 hand and upsetting me in the water in which we were righting 
 at the moment. 
 
 HOW SAWYER AND FLYNN ESCAPED GALLOWS. 
 
 WHILE many thousands of Union soldiers ( ?) deserted 
 their colors during the Civil War, and while several 
 were sentenced to be shot for deserting their commands 
 at critical moments, it remained for one of the "bravest of the 
 brave," belonging to the superb First New Jersey Cavalry, to be 
 sentenced to execution on a rude gallows for no other crime than 
 doing his whole duty as a soldier and being an earnest and 
 faithful defender of his flag. 
 
 Among the most exciting, thrilling and pathetic incidents 
 in the great war was the case of Captain Henry Washington 
 Sawyer, of the First New Jersey Cavalry, a resident of Cape 
 May County. Captain Sawyer, grievously wounded in the terrific 
 hand-to-hand fight on the beautiful plain at Brandy Station, June 
 9, 1863, fell into the hands of the enemy, and was removed as a 
 prisoner to the notorious Libby prison, in Richmond. On the 
 morning of July 6, a short month after his incarceration, and
 
 188 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 before he had fully recovered from a desperate wound in his 
 head, Captain Sawyer and all officers of the same rank confined 
 with him, were suddenly and peremptorily summoned to appear 
 before the infamous "Dick" Turner, a Northern renegade who 
 had been entrusted with the keepership of the prison. With his 
 usual self-importance and great swagger, Turner said he had 
 received an order from the Confederate war department to select 
 by lot two captains to be executed immediately in retaliation 
 for the hanging of two Confederate captains, captured within 
 the Union lines while acting in the capacity of spies. 
 
 The captains being formed about the keeper of the prison, 
 a slip of brown paper with the name of each written upon it 
 and carefully folded was deposited in a dirty soap box. This 
 part of the sad ceremony having been accomplished, Turner in- 
 formed the captains that as they might consider the task of 
 drawing the "prizes" a delicate matter, they might select whom 
 they pleased to make the drawings the first two names taken 
 from the box to decide who should be executed. 
 
 Captain Sawyer, ever cool and calm, suggested, in obedience 
 to this delicate feeling on the part of the prisonkeeper, that one 
 -of the chaplains perform the task, whereupon three clergymen, 
 confined on an upper floor, were hastily summoned. Rev. Mr. 
 Brown, of the Sixth Maryland (Union) Regiment, accepted the 
 sad duty, and, amid death-like silence, the drawing for two gal- 
 lant human lives commenced. The first name withdrawn from 
 the fateful box was that of Captain Sawyer the second, that of 
 his friend, Captain John W. Flynn, of the Fifty-first Indiana 
 Infantry. 
 
 The Richmond Despatch, in its account of the affair, said: 
 "When the names were read out, Sawyer heard it with no ap- 
 parent emotion, remarking that as someone had to be chosen, it 
 might as well be himself, as he could stand it as well as any 
 other. Flynn was very white and greatly depressed." 
 
 After hastily penning an eloquent letter to his wife, begging 
 her to visit him, and giving minute directions how to proceed, 
 Captain Sawyer, accompanied by Flynn, was escorted to a ver- 
 min and rat-infested dungeon far under ground, closely guarded. 
 They had occupied the fetid place, however, but a few minutes 
 when "Dick" Turner, apparently with fiendish delight, appeared 
 before the dungeon door, bearing a lighted lantern, and harshly 
 announced to the two captains that they had but two hours to 
 live that they would be in another world ere the clock tolled 
 the hour of twelve.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 189 
 
 True enough ! They were shortly after manacled, placed in 
 an old and rickety tobacco cart, to which was attached two oxen, 
 and, strongly guarded, started down Mayo Street, toward a spot 
 selected for the execution on the outskirts of the city. 
 
 On the way the prisoners attracted the attention of a Roman 
 Catholic bishop passing along the street, who inquired the nature 
 of the sad procession. When Captain Flynn, a devout Catholic, 
 told the good bishop of the fate awaiting himself and companion 
 and declared he had no heart to "die without the rites of his 
 church," the latter fervently exclaimed: "This will never do," 
 and imploring the Confederate officer in charge of the detail to 
 move slowly, declared he would hasten to see President Davis, 
 who, he was sure, would grant a respite. The clergyman mounted 
 a superb horse and was away as if on the wings of the wind. 
 Meantime the procession reached a slight eminence upon which 
 was a single stalwart tree. 
 
 With but ten minutes intervening between the unhappy prison- 
 ers and an ignominous death, with stout hempen cords about 
 their necks, and the cart in which they were standing upright 
 ready to move from under their feet, hurling them into eternity, 
 they suddenly beheld coming from the city, in which direction 
 they had steadily kept their eyes, a courier enveloped in clouds 
 of flying dust, and a horse covered with foam. The priest had 
 secured a reprieve for ten days. 
 
 Upon receipt of Captain Sawyer's tender and fateful letter, 
 Mrs. Sawyer, like a brave and true-hearted wife, hastened to lay 
 the momentous matter before influential friends at her home, who 
 advised her to lose no time in going to Washington, where they 
 would aid her in appealing to President Lincoln. With several 
 prominent men Mrs. Sawyer reached the National Capital late 
 the following day, and proceeding to the White House, was 
 admitted to an audience with the great man whose big heart 
 ever went out to the sorrowing and the distressed. 
 
 Upon reading Captain Sawyer's noble letter, the President, 
 deeply affected, with great tears swimming in his sympathetic 
 eyes, assured Mrs. Sawyer he would do all in his power to save 
 her husband and his companion, and concluded the interview by 
 bidding her call on the morrow to hear what his action in the 
 premises might be. She left the executive chamber with a sor- 
 rowing heart, but greatly lightened of its burden by the result of 
 her interview with the great and good man. 
 
 President Lincoln's letter to Colonel W. H. Ludlow, agent 
 for the exchange of prisoners, saved the captain's lives. He
 
 190 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 threatened retaliation, naming General W. H. F. Lee, and an- 
 other officer to be selected. The hanging never took place. 
 
 Captain Sawyer, with whom I became well acquainted after 
 the war, and with whom I have swapped stories of life in various 
 Southern prison pens, lived but a few years after his return from 
 the army, carrying with him to the tomb the seeds of insidious 
 disease contracted in the service of his country, which he long, 
 faithfully and ardently served. 
 
 BURNING OF GOLDSBORO BRIDGE. 
 
 THE feats of valor performed by soldiers whose names are 
 unknown to fame find no place in the bulletin that recites 
 briefly the triumphs of the victor or fall of the vanquished 
 chieftain. History, which is mainly a record of the achievements 
 of men of illustrious birth or whose positions gave them rare 
 opportunities to attain distinction, is not always just in its award. 
 True, its pages are illumined by narratives of splendid deeds 
 wrought by individuals that occupied humble spheres, but com- 
 paratively few of the brave acts and generous words of noble 
 souls find a place, save in the memory of those who delight to 
 treasure up glorious recollections. Every age produces heroes 
 far more worthy of our regard than the titled personages whose 
 -services and crimes are cited by the historian. The War for the 
 Union was fruitful in incidents entitled to our warmest admira- 
 tion. 
 
 I can cite many incidents of unparalleled bravery of enlisted 
 men during the contest of 1861-1865, but will content myself with 
 narrating a story of the burning of the covered wooden railroad 
 bridge spanning the Neuse River at Goldsboro, N. C., in Decem- 
 ber, 1862, by Privates Elias C. Winans and William Lemons, of 
 the Ninth New Jersey, which elicited admiration from 30,000 
 men who witnessed the perilous act. 
 
 The expedition, in command of Major General John G. 
 Foster (a captain of artillery in Fort Sumter when that historic 
 pile was attacked in April, 1861), comprised some 30,000 men of 
 the three arms of the service. This force, after a succession of 
 battles at Southwest Creek, Kinston and Whitehall (where a 
 Confederate iron-clad gunboat was totally consumed by fire), 
 came within sight of the Neuse River at noon. The old wooden 
 structure spanning that stream was defended by a corps just 
 arrived from Lee's army, which had a day or two previously
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 191 
 
 defeated General Burnside at Fredericksburg, including an iron- 
 -clad plaftorm car (monitor) mounting several guns. The latter 
 was used in running up and down the railroad. 
 
 General Heckman, satisfied that the bridge could not be 
 captured or crossed, called for volunteers from the Ninth to 
 burn it. So many offered themselves that it became necessary 
 to make, a selection, and in another minute the colonel supplied 
 Winans and Lemons with fuses, and bade them "God speed" 
 on their perilous mission. Captain James Stewart, Jr., subse- 
 quently colonel of the Ninth and a brigadier general, was among 
 the first to respond to the call for volunteers. I saw my two 
 brave comrades depart, but had no expectation of seeing them 
 return, neither having apparently one chance in a thousand 
 from immunity from death. Running hastily, they succeeded in 
 gaining the cover of the railroad bank, along which they has- 
 tened in a stooping attitude toward the bridge, a quarter of a mile 
 away on our front. The Confederates apparently did not see 
 them until they had almost reached the haven of their desires, 
 when it seemed as if all the fires of hell had been launched 
 against them. A railroad monitor, stationed near the bridge 
 on the opposite side of the river, had in the meantime opened a 
 terrible fire, its missiles ploughing and tearing up the ground 
 over which the two men were now necessarily slowly wending 
 their difficult and dangerous way. The Confederate infantrymen 
 on the left bank of the river poured volley after volley at Green 
 ;and Winans, completely ignoring the presence of our skirmish- 
 ers, who now kept up an unremitting fire to divert their attention. 
 It appeared, at times, as if neither Winans or Lemons would be 
 able to reach the bridge, so terrible was the fusilade. On, on, 
 they ran, amid a shower of lead and iron hail, often being en- 
 veloped in smoke and dust. Ten thousand men, foe and friends 
 alike, saw the two brave and determined men in their every 
 movement, and when, at last, they finally succeeded in gaining 
 the much-coveted bridge, the Union army sent up a cheer which 
 did more to madden the Confederates and rouse our spirits than 
 anything I had ever witnessed in the army. It now looked very 
 much as if the enemy would accomplish the object for which 
 the Union commander was laboring; i. e., the destruction of the 
 bridge, for the Confederate batteries completely riddled the 
 structure, hoping, by this means, to deter the two Yankees from 
 firing it "under their very nose." 
 
 When Winans and Lemon entered the bridge they became 
 lost to our sight, and when, after anxious waiting, we failed to
 
 192 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 see any evidence of their success, we gave them up for lost none 
 of us believing it possible for either of them to escape the dan- 
 gers which surrounded them. I shall never forget my feelings 
 on this occasion. Every eye was intently fixed on the southern 
 end of the bridge. Had the two men, heretofore so miracuously 
 preserved, been killed after reaching the object of so much solici- 
 tude? What is that? Who is that emerging from the bridge? 
 A clear glass shows that Winans is returning, having failed to 
 accomplish the object for which so much blood had been shed. 
 But no. He halts, waves his old blue cap toward us, then slides 
 down the railroad embankment, crawls through a fence, enters 
 the wood which borders the river's right bank, gathers a quantity 
 of leaves and dry chips and slowly but cautiously returns to the 
 bridge the enemy increasing their fire meantime. Placing the 
 newly gathered "fuel where it would do the most good" the 
 fuses having proven worthless (as he afterward reported) he 
 struck a match, ignited the same, and the bridge was on fire. A 
 minute afterward a dense column of black smoke poured out of 
 the structure, then tongues of red flame shot out into the air 
 ascending heavenward, and the work of two humble members of 
 the Union army was accomplished. 
 
 Perhaps I should add that by this time several companies of 
 the Ninth Regiment had been able to make their way to within a 
 few yards of the bridge, where much execution was done, al- 
 though the command suffered greatly from the enemy's wither- 
 ing fire. Hastening from the burning bridge, the two heroes 
 speedily rejoined their comrades, being warmly welcomed with 
 cheers their heroism being the theme around many camp-fires 
 in after years. 
 
 THE FLYING HORSEMAN. 
 
 A RECENT cloudburst in Kentucky, by which a small town 
 was effaced and most of its inhabitants swept into eter- 
 nity by a merciless flood, forcibly reminds me of a some- 
 what similar occurrence in front of Petersburg during the sum- 
 mer of 1864, when a citizen of Elizabeth at the present time, 
 but then serving his country in the army, distinguished himself 
 by an act of great daring, enabling him to save hundreds of fel- 
 low-mortals from watery graves. The act performed by my 
 comrade in arms on this occasion should be perpetuated in- 
 bronze should be remembered by all the generations to come
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 193 
 
 as one' of the most unselfish and heroic of the great war, and 
 be an object lesson to all who admire gallantry and intrepidity. 
 
 It was on the afternoon of August 15, 1864, that the Eigh- 
 teenth Army Corps, occupying a long line of earthworks in close 
 proximity to the enemy, fronting Petersburg, with one flank rest- 
 ing on the Appomattox River, was thrown into a state of intense 
 excitement, as well as terror, by a cloudburst, which almost 
 instantly submerged the camps and poured down a wide and deep 
 ravine in the rear with all the force and power of an enraged and 
 ungovernable river. 
 
 It had been intensely hot for several days, causing great 
 discomfort to the men, but there was nothing at midday to indi- 
 cate that there would be any change in the almost stifling atmos- 
 phere. Suddenly, about 2 o'clock, a great, black, ominous- 
 looking cloud appeared directly over Petersburg and traveled 
 toward our line, close to the earth, with lightning-like speed. 
 All in that section heard its awful rush and roar. The accom- 
 panying winds set up a mournful, howling shrieking as if under 
 the influence of a powerful demon. The air was instantly filled 
 with clouds of blinding dust and flying tents of canvas torn 
 away from meagre fastenings. Consternation was depicted on 
 the faces of all, owing to the horrors of the tornado. 
 
 In a moment after it appeared as if the gates above had 
 been opened, so great was the volume of water that fell deluging 
 the earth, swamping everything. The men from the North de- 
 clared they had not before seen anything like it, and with 
 blanched faces all sought safety in the open and on the highest 
 ground to be conveniently reached. 
 
 The trenches and other excavations occupied by the men 
 for safety from the enemy's missiles were so quickly inundated 
 that many had all they could do to effect their escape, leaving 
 haversacks, blankets, etc., behind in their wild flight. While it 
 was dangerous on the plain, or more level part of the ground,, 
 it was at the rear, in the deep and wide ravine, where a number 
 of regiments were encamped, that the most damage was incurred 
 by the Union forces. Regiments, whose shelter tents were 
 pitched upon either hillside, had an exciting time in saving their 
 accoutrements from being washed into the bottom, down which 
 a fearful torrent of foaming water was rushing with irresistible 
 force to swell the usually placid Appomattox a mile or so below. 
 
 Sutlers and wagoners, together with a negro regiment or 
 two, occupying the low land, were in desperate straits, having- 
 all they could do to escape the rushing flood without seeking to>
 
 194 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 save property. In their wild and tumultuous flight up the hill- 
 side they carried nothing with them, owing to besetting dangers. 
 A hundred and more men, unable to evade the flood, were car- 
 ried away by the torrent and drowned. Many of the bodies were 
 never recovered. Several hundred horses, tethered in the ravine, 
 that could not break from their fastenings, met a similar fate. 
 
 Portable houses, used by sutlers and various departments 
 of the army, wagons, tents, furniture, barrels of whisky and 
 meats, boxes of crackers, etc., went whirling along in the resist- 
 less flood. The new-made river was two hundred feet wide 
 and nine or ten feet deep. 
 
 Charles H. Miller, at that time a member of the 139th New 
 York Volunteers, but on detached service as chief head clerk of 
 the commissary department of the Third Brigade, Third Divi- 
 sion, 18th Army Corps, had a remarkably narrow escape from 
 perishing in this flood. He was riding down the ravine on a 
 spirited horse, on his way to headquarters, when he heard alarm- 
 ing cries and fierce shouts, and, turning, saw soldiers wildly 
 fleeing. His first impression was that the army was retreating, 
 but hearing no firing and seeing no movement on the part of 
 the enemy, he halted to investigate. He stopped but an instant. 
 however, as he beheld, perhaps half a mile away, a huge wall of 
 water, rushing like an avalanche toward him. The breath nearly 
 left his body when he realized the imminence of his danger, as 
 well as that of hundreds in the ravine below him. Sinking his 
 spurs deep into the flanks of the noble animal he bestrode, and 
 tearing away like the wind, he yelled with all the strength of his 
 lungs as he went dashing down that narrow-rimmed valley of the 
 shadow of death, by this means winning the admiration of thou- 
 sands and saving numerous lives. Men, resting from fatigue 
 tinder shelter tents, seeing the "flying horseman," as he was 
 called, dashing along at a furious speed, with sparks flying from 
 the ironclad hoofs of the horse, peered out from their canvas 
 habitations with frightened faces, as they heard the fearful and 
 alarming cries ; but above all the gallant horseman's voice 
 shrilled in that lowland, as with spurs dripping red, foam and 
 blood blowing from the horse's nostrils, and hatless and white, 
 he cried as he rode on his humane errand: 
 
 "Fly! fly! Run for life! Run! run! run!' 
 
 And still on and on the apparently wild voice of my brave 
 comrade rang down that death-coursing little valley, piercing 
 every tent and nook with its awful message, as on he dashed 
 with great speed along a headlong course, until the fiercely pur-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 195 
 
 suing waters seemed about to enfold him and his faithful charger 
 and entomb both in the vortex, when, finding his self-imposed 
 task finished, having nearly reached the end of the camp, he 
 deftly guided his jaded, panting animal from impending death 
 up the steep hillside to the summit of safety. 
 
 The heroism displayed by Mr. Miller was the theme round 
 many a campfire and bivouac. 
 
 HOW SCOTT WON FIRST MEDAL. 
 
 AMONG the multitude of gallant men who sprang to arms 
 in 1861, at the call of the nation's Chief Magistrate, when 
 the starry flag that had waved over Sumter's heroic gar- 
 rison was stricken down, was Julian Scott, a native of Vermont, 
 but for many years after the war a resident of Plainfield, N. J., 
 who at the age of 15 years left school to join his country's de- 
 fenders. Enlisting in the Third Vermont infantry as a drummer, 
 his fragile form being considered too delicate to bear the burden 
 of a heavy rifle and accompanying accoutrements, and to with- 
 stand the fatigues incident to the life of an armed soldier, Julian 
 Scott found himself, with his regiment, encamped in the swamps 
 on the Virginia peninsula early in the spring of 1862. 
 
 It was on the morning of April 16 that the afterward famous 
 Vermont brigade Third, Fourth, Fifth and Sixth regiments 
 composed of sterling Green Mountain boys, whose fathers had 
 fought and suffered in establishing the flag, was ordered to make 
 an attack on a strong fortification masked in a forest near 
 Lee's Mills, or Burnt Chimneys, on the right bank of Warwick 
 River, a beautiful and meandering stream of no mean width or 
 force. 
 
 When the command reached the bank of the river, under 
 cover of an effective fire from one of our light batteries, four 
 companies of the Third Regiment, to one of which young Scott 
 was attached as a musician, promptly dashed into the flood, 
 and despite a desperate resistance on the part of the thoroughly 
 aroused enemy, hidden among trees and a thick underbrush on 
 the opposite side, effected a crossing, not, however, without sus- 
 taining considerable loss and getting a thorough wetting. The 
 water was breast high, and ruined, as was discovered when too 
 late, the paper cartridges carried in leather boxes. 
 
 The companies which thus gained the point aimed at, to 
 clear a way for the brigade that had been ordered to closely fol-
 
 196 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 low, but which for some unexplained reason failed to do so, 
 pluckily and impetuously assailed the Confederate position, driv- 
 ing the enemy from the works at the point of the bayonet, and 
 pursued the fleeing Confederates some distance, until finding 
 themselves unsupported and with worthless ammunition, owing 
 to the soaking it had undergone during the crossing, and a large 
 force of the enemy advancing upon them, the decimated force 
 was obliged to retire. The only defense it could make in this 
 extremity was with the bayonet, and when this fact was learned 
 by the closely pursuing Confederates, they poured destructive 
 volleys into the disordered ranks. 
 
 Imagine the horror of the little Vermont band on reaching 
 the ford to find, instead of the placid stream they had waded an 
 hour previously, a mighty and resistless flood of rushing waters, 
 into which it was foolhardy to enter. 
 
 While the four companies, apparently left to their fate, had 
 accomplished more than the task assigned to them, the Confeder- 
 ates had meantime opened the floodgates at the mills, a short 
 distance above, thus allowing the confined waters to escape, en- 
 veloping the invaders in a dangerous trap, death or prison pen 
 seemingly the only alternatives. Escape was impossible. A 
 terrible situation confronted them. 
 
 Driven to absolute desperation by their inability to defend 
 themselves for want of ammunition, and seeing no hopes of res- 
 cue, the gallant Vermonters turned to each other in dismay. 
 Not a ray of encouragement appeared to cheer the unfortunate 
 soldiers who thus found themselves in a perilous situation from 
 which extrication seemed impossible. Meanwhile, in the midst 
 of the wild excitement, many of the men leaped from the high 
 bank into the foaming and rushing waters, hoping thereby to 
 gain safety on the other shore, which, however, many were 
 destined never to reach. Others sought shelter from the storm 
 of bullets pouring upon them under the bank upon which they 
 stood, a poor protection, as they subsequently found it. This 
 rendered the confusion more terrible. 
 
 But it is in the midst of the most appalling dangers, how- 
 ever, that the character of the American soldier reveals itself, 
 and never did one show himself greater in heroism than Drum- 
 mer Julian Scott in the deplorable misfortunes which beset his 
 command on this fatal day. What devotion and presence of 
 mind in the midst of the imminent and manifold dangers was 
 manifested by this intrepid youth as he boldly and fearlessly 
 plunged into the seething flood amid a shower of leaden missiles
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 197 
 
 and struck through the disturbed current for the opposite bank, 
 stopping when midway to rescue a wounded comrade who was 
 shot through the neck while swimming at his side ! This gallant 
 and unselfish act, witnessed by those on either shore, elicited the 
 heartiest cheers. 
 
 Carrying the suffering soldier to a place of comparative 
 safety, Julian Scott, insensible of the dangers surrounding him, 
 again made his way to the river's edge and, with no thought of 
 the peril attending the movement, rescued another and another 
 of his drowning fellows until those thus saved by his efforts 
 numbered eleven. 
 
 Then, at last, faint and nearly exhausted and suffering in- 
 tensely from a ghastly wound on his head, my friend and com- 
 panion, against the remonstrances of those standing about him, 
 who felt he had already done enough and was unfit to further 
 jeopardize his life, again sprang into the raging torrent to rescue 
 a young man bearing his name, who, desperately wounded, had 
 finally relinquished his struggles. 
 
 This young man, not long before, had been saved from an 
 awful and ignominious death by the personal intervention of 
 President Lincoln. Shortly after enlisting, this Scott, in no way 
 related to Julian, found asleep on post in camp, had been 
 tried, convicted and sentenced to death, and a little later the 
 Army of the Potomac was drawn up on the plain near Centerville 
 to witness the execution of the beardless youth. The last scene 
 in that day's exciting drama was the hurried approach of a coach 
 and four, escorted by a small force of cavalry, enveloped in 
 clouds of blinding dust, and the halting of the party on the 
 ground as the command "Ready!" given by the lieutenant in 
 charge of the firing squad, echoed over the silent field. From 
 the dust-covered vehicle instantly emerged the tall form of Abra- 
 ham Lincoln, who promptly ordered the bandage to be removed 
 from the prisoner's eyes, the thongs which bound his hands and 
 legs to be severed, and the young man to be liberated and re- 
 stored to duty. This scene, especially as the prisoner rose from 
 the rude wooden coffin upon which he had been sitting, com- 
 placently waiting his transfer to another and brighter world, 
 profoundly affected the armed host collected to witness it as an 
 object lesson. Despite the efforts of the officers, the pent-up 
 feelings of that mighty throng gave way, and tumultuous cheers 
 broke upon the stillness, echoing from corps to corps, making 
 an occasion never to be forgotten by the witnesses. 
 
 This Scott, thus preserved from a disgraceful death, has
 
 198 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 been immortalized by Janvier in his eloquent and pathetic poem, 
 "The Sleeping Sentinel," which every young, as well as old 
 American, should read and study. Terribly wounded, he was 
 rescued from a watery grave by Julian Scott, amid the plaudits 
 of the Vermont brigade, and tenderly placed on the bank among 
 his comrades, but only to breathe his last a few moments after, 
 not, however, without blessing the noble and self-sacrificing 
 drummer boy, whose hand, as life ebbed away, he grasped with 
 gratitude, his final words being "God bless the President!" who 
 had mercifully preserved him from a dishonorable death and his 
 aged parents from everlasting dishonor. 
 
 For the bravery displayed by Julian Scott at the catastrophe 
 on Warwick River that April day in 1862, he was presented by 
 Congress with the first medal of honor struck in the Civil War, 
 a distinction he richly merited. 
 
 After life's fitful fever, Julian Scott sleeps tranquilly. The 
 turf in the beautiful cemetery at Plainfield glimmers with a lovely 
 emerald and its violets hold amid their bloom a holy incense in 
 the mound covering his mortality. A more abiding honor than 
 that of storied urn consecrates it. 
 
 EXCITING INCIDENT AT GETTYSBURG. 
 
 THE recent nauseating pose of a so-called "society woman" 
 one of New York's "smart set" at an entertainment, 
 with a hideous snake encircled about her body, neck and 
 arms, sending cold chills along the spinal cords of the spectators, 
 recalls to my mind a thrilling adventure Sergeant William 
 Eckerson, for many years the efficient overseer of the poor in 
 this city, had on the second night of the battle of Gettysburg 
 with a deadly ophidian of the largest size on its native heath. 
 
 Sergeant Eckerson, than whom the Army of the Potomac, to 
 which he belonged for nearly four years, never had a braver 
 representative, was a member of the Fourth Excelsior (73d New 
 York) Regiment. Although but a mere lad, a delicate stripling, 
 he enlisted in that command and participated with it in all the 
 battles in which it engaged. 
 
 I shall not here tell of the forced and fatiguing march, 
 through clouds of stifling dust, his command made from Taney- 
 town, in Maryland, all that terribly hot first day of July, 1863, 
 and far into the sultry night, only halting as it rushed into the 
 front line of the almost exhausted and disheartened Unionists on
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 199 
 
 the left of Cemetery Hill, to confront Longstreet's magnificent 
 veterans, old-time antagonists of the Army of Northern Vir- 
 ginia, but merely relate an extraordinary incident that has ever 
 been considered of thrilling interest to those familiar with the 
 strange circumstance. 
 
 It was on the afternoon of the second day that the five regi- 
 ments of the Excelsior Brigade lost 778 officers and men in 
 killed and wounded, nearly one-half it numbered on reaching 
 the field. As the shades of night were falling, when it was hoped 
 there would be a cessation of the bloody work in which 200,000 
 of the bravest men on earth had been remorselessly engaged 
 throughout the previous forty-eight hours, Longstreet made a 
 desperate charge to gain possession of the hill firmly held by our 
 thin line of blue, and succeeded in forcing it back some distance, 
 capturing three field pieces, which had greatly annoyed the Con- 
 federates. This so enraged Colonel Brewster, commanding the 
 brigade, that he called for volunteers to advance and retake the 
 trophies. Sergeant Eckerson was one of these volunteers. The 
 guns were quickly recaptured, and with them the tattered colors 
 and a major and some fifty men of the Eighth Florida Regiment. 
 In the fierce hand-to-hand struggle which my comrade had in 
 attempting to wrest the Florida flag from its plucky bearer, he 
 was knocked down with the butt-end of a rifle, shot in two places 
 in the lower part of his body, and left for dead beside one of the 
 big boulders deposited on the ridge in the long ago by glaciers 
 which came down from the frozen north, only to find lodgment 
 and disintegration in that sunny vale, familiarly known as the 
 "Devil's Den." 
 
 Helpless and racked by incessant and excruciating pains, 
 weakened by the loss of blood from ghastly wounds, half- 
 famished and nearly crazed for the want of water, nothing could 
 equal the anguish that absorbed the distressed mind of my com- 
 rade as he lay prostrate upon his back on the hard and stony 
 ground all through that seemingly interminable night, with 
 nerves paralyzed, unable to move hand or foot, listening, as he 
 was compelled to do, to the dreadful groans and agonizing cries 
 of the wounded surrounding him. Overpowered with intense 
 pains, as well as a sense of terror, he flattered himself that sleep, 
 if it could be obtained, would release him from the frightful 
 recollections which crowded upon him, and all the horrors of 
 the day again passed in review before his disordered mind. His 
 wearied senses at last sank into repose, but often in the stillness 
 of the night he was ruthlessly startled by the report of cannon,
 
 200 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 which, passing across the fields and over the multitudinous hills, 
 sounded in a peculiarly mournful and horrible manner. These 
 unexpected sounds, repeated by the echoes of the valley, which 
 till then had only resounded with the husbandman's call and the 
 warbling of birds, were lengthened into dismal reverberations, 
 and often when his harassed nerves were sinking into calm and 
 refreshing repose, so sorely needed by him, he was roused, fear- 
 ful that the bewildered line of gray, but a few rods away, was 
 again about to advance against the shattered line of blue. 
 
 It was only when the burning rays of that July sun were 
 disseminated over and among the grand old hills on the morn- 
 ing of that eventful day in which Pickett's immortals made a des- 
 perate but vain attempt to break through three Union lines of 
 battle, that Sergeant Eckerson, greatly weakened by the ebbing 
 of his life's blood, which all through the long night had poured 
 from awful wounds, chilled to the very marrow by exposure to 
 the night air, with no covering save the blue canopy above, and 
 who had foully dreamed of never again seeing the light of 
 another day, resuscitated by the pitiless heat, opened his weary 
 eyes, only to be stricken almost senseless with horror, on behold- 
 ing coiled upon his breast (much less capacious than at a later 
 period of his life, when it measured something less than one 
 hundred inches), a rattlesnake of the largest and most formid- 
 able species, whose hideous and fearful head, with open, gaping 
 mouth, exposing threatening fangs, from which darted, with 
 lightning rapidity, a long, forked tongue, emitting a vile, sicken- 
 ing odor, and two basilisk eyes, which he momentarily thought 
 were a reflection from his own eye-balls, gleaming terribly before 
 him. As he thus lay prostrate and helpless, he feared the pulsa- 
 tions of his heart, to him sounding like trip-hammers, produced 
 by the rapid coursing of his blood, would incite the reptile to 
 deliver the fatal blow, which he knew it was ever ready to do. A 
 spring of cold sweat trickled down his face and covered his body. 
 Profound horror and the fantasies of his awakening, combined 
 with the peculiar situation in which he found himself, froze his 
 heart, turning it into marble. He did not dare permit himself to 
 make the slightest movement of hand or body. He dreamed of 
 home, and the minutest incidents of his life passed in instantane- 
 ous review before his agonized mind. Frightful despair over- 
 whelmed his very soul, and all courage fled. 
 
 In this supreme moment of intense and bitter agony, the 
 imperilled soldier instinctively closed his eyes, utterly abandon- 
 ing all hope of rescue, and mentally appealed to his Creator, to
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 201 
 
 whom alone, like all those in awful peril, he besought preserva- 
 tion. Who can picture his despair at this horrible dis- 
 covery ? Who can tell of his sense of feeling, in thus finding him- 
 self in the coils of a monster ophidian, whom the slightest move- 
 ment on his part would incite to fatal action? How long my 
 comrade thus lay I may not tell. However disposed or able, he 
 abstained from making the slightest movement, fully aware of 
 danger in exciting the reptile. His weakened condition no way 
 qualified him for any kind of a contest with the monster, which 
 could not fail to be unequal and fatal to him in its termination. 
 
 In those moments of awful agony, during which he lived a 
 thousand years, Sergeant Eckerson, to whom all hope for rescue 
 seemed gone, and whose nerves were strung to the utmost ten- 
 sion, was startled by the discharge of a rifle, a few feet away, and 
 the sudden and altogether unlooked-for appearance of a sol- 
 dier, who, happening along in that valley of the shadow of 
 death, fortunately saw the snake coiled upon what he supposed to 
 be the body of a dead soldier. This inference was perfectly 
 natural under the circumstances. 
 
 The shot that thus preserved the life of Sergeant Eckerson 
 for further usefulness to his country had been unerring the big 
 Minnie bullet had completely severed the head of the reptile. 
 While the soldier, thus providentially sent to save the life of my 
 comrade, was admiring and removing the still wriggling snake 
 from the prostrate form of the sergeant, to whom he had given 
 no heed, believing him to be dead, he was greatly surprised to 
 hear him speak. Kneeling beside the sergeant, whose weak 
 voice sounded as if from a tomb, the new-comer speedily satis- 
 fied himself that life was not extinct, and calling some soldiers 
 who were in the vicinity gathering the dead and wounded, my 
 comrade was placed on a stretcher, and tenderly carried to a field 
 hospital, from which, after his wounds had been dressed, he was 
 with others conveyed in an improvised ambulance, a farmer's 
 wagon, to the general hospital at Baltimore, where he hovered 
 between life and death for many long months, and at length 
 recovering, was offered his discharge from the service, but with 
 a grim determination to remain until the last shot was fired, he 
 refused to return home, and was attached to the Veteran Reserve 
 Corps, in which he did duty till late in 1865.
 
 202 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 RETRIBUTIVE JUSTICE AT ANDERSONVILLE. 
 
 COMPARATIVELY few veterans of the Civil War who 
 were interested witnesses of the strangest moral, if 'not 
 strictly legal execution of six of the foulest and vilest 
 men confined within the circumscribed limits of that "hell" in 
 Georgia, known since 1864 as Confederate "Camp Sumter," at 
 Andersonville, concerning which, while much has been said by 
 the unfortunate occupants of that fetid pen, but little has ever 
 found its way into print, are living to-day. 
 
 It must not be supposed for an instant that all who wore the 
 blue during the Civil War were either brave, noble or honest, or 
 that all those captured in battle and otherwise, many purposely, 
 possessed chivalric spirit, or were guided by that sympathy 
 which the common bonds of distress and misery would naturally 
 excite under such untoward circumstances. On the contrary, 
 the pen at Andersonville, during June, 1864, when more than 
 30,000 human beings, Union prisoners of war, were huddled 
 together within the enclosure like swine, contained many des- 
 perate characters no less than a horde of robbers and mur- 
 derers, perfectly indifferent to any code of morals or chivalry, 
 who delighted nightly under the cover of darkness, in the fullest 
 enjoyment of plundering and cruelly murdering unsuspecting 
 "comrades." 
 
 While excess of misery and wretchedness debases human 
 nature, it could be no excuse for the brutes, who, lost to every 
 sense of honor, duty and manhood, were stained with the most 
 revolting crimes, committed upon defenceless and unsuspecting 
 comrades (!), and it was only when forbearance ceased to be a 
 virtue and despair had taken possession of the souls of the 
 bravest hearted, who only thought to save their wretched exist- 
 ence, owing to the constantly increasing number of heinous 
 crimes committed by the more sordid and unreasoning prisoners, 
 by friends to whom honor and duty had ever been unknown, 
 that heroic measures of defence first suggested themselves, and 
 an appeal to the Confederate prison-keeper determined upon. 
 
 This cankerous state of affairs finally ended in the formation 
 of what became known as a "Vigilance Committee," very much 
 on the western style of many years ago. This self-constituted 
 organization, composed of honest men, determined to take the 
 law into its own hands for the law's sake, and mete out swift and 
 terrible justice to the guilty ones, in the event of a declination
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 203 
 
 of the prison commandant to interpose in behalf of law and order 
 and the security of those committed to his care. 
 
 When the chairman of the delegation, a sergeant, early in 
 June, formally and eloquently reported a long list of heinous 
 crimes committed by the "bounty jumpers" and "coffee-coolers" 
 of the Union army, whom fate had thus imprisoned, General 
 Winder, the commandant, who never commiserated with the 
 unfortunates, nor sought to relieve their sufferings or ameliorate 
 their wretched and forlorn condition, gave full authority to arrest 
 and try the murderers by court-martial, and if found guilty, hang 
 them. This proceeding was immediately taken, and on the 
 Fourth of July six of the ringleaders were executed on a rude 
 scaffold within the prison enclosure, all the prisoners able to 
 raise their eyes in the direction, and several thousand Confederate 
 soldiers, guarding the pen, witnessing the singular as well as 
 awful spectacle. While the immense assemblage, with deathlike 
 stillness, was solemnly impressed by the scene of repulsive hor- 
 ror, and Catholic priests, noted for their goodnesses to the 
 prisoners whom they daily visited, uttered words of Christian 
 consolation to the six wretched culprits, standing, as it were, on 
 the brink of eternity, with stout hempen ropes dangling about 
 their necks, the fiends who had long terrorized the camp, in- 
 dulged in hilarity, bitterly cursed their fellows, and uttered male- 
 dictions against a government they had often sworn to defend, 
 after receiving large sums of money in the shape of "bounty" 
 from patriotic citizens who preferred remaining at home to jeo- 
 pardizing their precious forms on the battle-field, and who were 
 entirely willing that any one else should take the chances, no 
 matter how disreputable in character or cowardly in spirit. 
 
 These wretches had steeled their hearts against every virtue, 
 committed every crime in the calendar, and now, in their last mo- 
 ments in a world that had been entirely too good for them, they 
 reviled everybody and everything about them. After they had 
 been launched into an unknown world and their inanimate bodies 
 had become stiff and cold, the camp of misery seemed relieved 
 of an appalling incubus, and was all the brighter and happier 
 despite surrounding gloom and wretchedness, for the vindication 
 of law and justice, and the expiation of foul wrongs committed 
 on the innocent and unwary by the execution of the lawless. 
 The retribution which thus overtook these criminals ended the 
 murderous raids that had been so dreadful and frequent. 
 
 And now the "Georgia Daughters of the Southern Con- 
 federacy," apparently having no worthier object of esteem, are
 
 204 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 about to erect in a prominent spot at Andersonville a shaft to 
 the memory of the infamous Henry Wirz, a native of Switzer- 
 land, keeper of the pen, who for his inhuman cruelties to the 
 hepless unfortunates committed to his tender mercies, was tried 
 by the United States Government, found guilty, and hung, in 
 expiation of his numerous offences against common decency and 
 the rules of civilized warfare. It is lamentable that Georgia 
 women can find none among those who bravely served that com- 
 monwealth on fields of battle more worthy of such a tribute. 
 Ne vile fano. 
 
 SAD FATE OF JERSEY SOLDIERS. 
 
 MANY soldiers were unhappy witnesses of one of the most 
 appalling and mournful spectacles of the Civil War when 
 thirty-three officers and enlisted men belonging to Com- 
 panies A, B, C and L, of the Twenty-seventh New Jersey Volun- 
 teers, out of a total of fifty on board a flat-boat, while crossing 
 the Cumberland River, in Kentucky, May 6, 1863, were drowned 
 in the unruly flood by the upsetting of the unwieldy craft, in 
 which they were transporting themselves across the swift-flowing 
 stream. 
 
 Sergeant Isaac S. Connett, who belonged to Company F 
 of the Twenty-seventh, and was a spectator of the awful catas- 
 trophe, in narrating the story of the sad affair to the Veteran 
 Zouaves the other evening, said: 
 
 "Our regiment, with three others and a battery of light artil- 
 lery, after a raid in the latter part of April, 1863, and a pretty 
 stiff fight at Monticello, Kentucky, on our return, reached Sti- 
 gpld's Ferry, on the Cumberland River, where we expected to 
 find small boats in which to cross the river, but instead discov- 
 ered two large, open flat-boats, whose only means of propulsion 
 were by means of heavy rope cables, attached to trees and 
 stretched from shore to shore, worked hand over hand by human 
 power. 
 
 "The Second Tennessee and 104th Ohio Regiments, a por- 
 tion of the battery and eight companies of the Twenty-seventh, 
 had successfully effected a crossing in the two boats, when the 
 remainder of the artillery embarked in the larger flat, and three 
 companies of our regiment, in the smaller boat, started to cross. 
 All were in joyous spirits, as the term for which we had enlisted 
 was on the eve of expiration, and our hearts rejoiced at the early
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 205 
 
 prospect of reaching home. We had been kept busy since join- 
 ing Burnside's Ninth Corps, just previous to his attack on Fred- 
 ericksburg in December, 1862, and after chasing Longstreet from 
 Suffolk, accompanied Burnside to Kentucky, to clear that coun- 
 try of infesting bands of guerrillas. 
 
 "Most of those who had already crossed the river and lined 
 the high bank to witness the movements of the two boats were 
 giving exuberance to their feelings by indulging in patriotic 
 songs, little dreaming of the terrible calamity that was so soon to 
 overtake the voyagers, throw the entire command into a 
 state of the wildest excitement, and fill all hearts with the deepest 
 sorrow. 
 
 "Perhaps I ought to explain that the flatboats were pulled 
 across the stream, which had a current of six miles an hour, by 
 four men, standing in the bow of each craft, who in its manipula- 
 tion passed one hand over another on the rope. They had been 
 cautioned not to loosen the grasp of one hand until the other 
 had firmly grasped the cable. 
 
 "When the flat containing the fifty men of our regiment 
 had reached the middle of the river, the men who manned the 
 cable suddenly and unaccountably released their hold, and the 
 lumbering craft swinging instantly around, with its broadside to 
 the rapid current, drifted swiftly down the stream toward the 
 larger and lower boat in which the artillery had taken passage. 
 
 "When those of us on shore realized the situation of our 
 comrades in the ungovernable boat as extremely perilous, all 
 gaiety was instinctively hushed, and brave men held their breath 
 lest the dangers of the imperilled be increased. Had the men in 
 charge of the rope maintained their composure and raised the 
 lower rope over their heads, enabling the craft to drift under- 
 neath, danger might have been averted, but many of the men 
 became instantly excited, and as the flat neared the lower rope, 
 they leaped up and attempted to seize it, hoping thereby to stay 
 the progress of their craft. 
 
 "This sudden movement caused the boat to careen, fill with 
 water and precipitate the passengers into the flood. It was a 
 moment fraught with the utmost peril, and the scene that fol- 
 lowed beggars description. I never before, nor since, saw such 
 an exciting, painful and heart-rending spectacle, nor heard 
 wilder, more agonizing cries, nor may I ever again have my 
 soul wrenched by the sight of such a horror. The wild shrieks 
 on land, as well as in the engulfing waters, which at this instant 
 arose, still ring in my ears. Strong, brave-hearted men, inured
 
 206 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 to dangers, wrung their hands in passionate grief as they stood 
 helplessly by and saw their comrades, one after another, disappear 
 under the cruel waters, utterly unable to render the slightest 
 assistance. 
 
 "The men, struggling in the stream, heavily laden with 
 accoutrements, overcoats and blankets, were unable to swim, 
 even though they understood the natatory art, while their perils 
 were increased by many in their wild efforts to escape a watery 
 grave, instinctively grasping their comrades for support, thus 
 carrying down supporters and supported. 
 
 "Those of us on shore who were compelled to behold the 
 sad and sickening scene, were utterly powerless to render aid to 
 our drowning companions. No means were at hand to reach any 
 who were struggling fiercely in the waters, which finally en- 
 tombed thirty-three out of the fifty gallant fellows who had em- 
 barked. Nineteen of those who thus miserably perished, be- 
 longing to Company L, were from Morris County. Among 
 those who that day in that manner laid their lives upon their 
 country's altar, were Captain John T. Alexander of Company B, 
 and his first sergeant, Albert D. Wiggons, of Morris County. 
 
 "It was only after the waters had closed over the mortality 
 of my comrades and resumed their wonted calmness, that with 
 sorrowful and meditative hearts, late that beautiful afternoon in 
 May, we took up our line of march for camp at Somerset. Some 
 few of the bodies were subsequently recovered, but most of them 
 never found an earthly resting place, their bodies finally being 
 buried in the depths of unknown seas. 
 
 "My brave companions thus died, not as they could have 
 wished, in the red heat of battle, but none the less they sacrificed 
 themselves for the Nation's cause and left a martyr's heritage to 
 all who love our starry banner and cherish the priceless institu- 
 tions bequeathed by our forefathers, and preserved by the valor 
 of the volunteer army of 1861-1865. 
 
 "To-day, boys, the sun shines clear in the woods, hills and 
 rivers of old Kentucky, where I, with a thousand other Jersey- 
 men, during the war, passed pleasant as well as saddened days, 
 and the beautiful blue-grass region, through which the Zouaves 
 toured in 1890, en route to New Orleans, now a scene of peace 
 and plenty, is as lovely as ever, few, if any, of the industrious 
 and quiet denizens of the charming valley having recollection of 
 the appalling horror myself and thousands of comrades witnessed 
 there in those troublous times nearly half a century ago."
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 207 
 
 GALLANT UNION SCOUT. 
 
 CAPTAIN EDWARD S. E. NEWBURY, residing in 
 Elizabeth, although born in North Carolina, served in 
 the Third New Jersey Volunteers during the Civil War, 
 and distinguished himself on many occasions. Appointed a 
 scout by General Philip Kearny, Newbury had his first thrilling 
 adventure on the night of November 4, 1861, when, accompanied 
 by Corporal Thomas P. Edwards, of his company, he left the 
 monotonous camp of the Jersey brigade near Alexandria, and 
 keeping well within the deep shadows of the woods, reached 
 the house of D. Fitzhugh, a wealthy planter, who, with his num- 
 erous family, a day or two previously, had deserted the home- 
 stead in the hope of seeking safety elsewhere. Learning from 
 an aged negress who was nursing her son, in the last stages of 
 consumption, in a nearby cabin, that Mas'r Fitzhugh and some 
 gentlemen would arrive shortly, the two scouts, in great glee at 
 the information, secreted themselves in the garden, behind a 
 heavy row of boxwood, taking with them from the mansion a 
 feather bed, some handsome woollen blankets, a small tin cup 
 and a few trinkets as souvenirs. Wrapping themselves with the 
 heavy and comfortable bed clothes, the intrepid scouts slept 
 serenely until midnight, when their quick ears detected the 
 sound of heavy hoof beats over the frozen road leading from 
 the highway to the house, before which five men dismounted. 
 Leaving one of their number to care for the animals, the others 
 entered the mansion and kindled a fire in the large open fire- 
 place, the reflection of the blaze illumining the large apartment 
 in which they gathered. 
 
 Newbury and Edwards, feeling they could gain more infor- 
 mation and be in a better position for defense by occupying the 
 kitchen, constructed of logs, cautiously made their way thither, 
 but the movement was evidently noticed by the man who had 
 been left to care for the horses. Edwards, revolver in hand, sta- 
 tioned himself at the front door of the kitchen, Newbury taking 
 post at the rear door. By a somewhat dim reflection of the light 
 from the house, Edwards, a moment after, saw a man approach- 
 ing his post, and quietly gave a signal of danger to Newbury. 
 In another moment the fellow appeared at the door and peered 
 anxiously within. Edwards could have dropped him in his 
 tracks, but as the object of the scouts was to procure intelli- 
 gence that would be of value to General Kearny, he refrained,
 
 208 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 great as was the temptation, from taking the desperate initiative 
 and robbing the inquisitive southerner of life. But Edwards, 
 the next instant, paid dearly for his forbearance, as the man who 
 thus boldly confronted him discharged his weapon point blank 
 at his breast and fled, sounding an alarm, which brought his 
 four companions from the house on a run. The ball from the 
 Confederate's pistol entered Edwards' arm above the elbow, 
 coming out six inches above, and then, strange as it may seem, 
 again entered his body by way of the back, and found a lodg- 
 ment against the spinal column, thus causing a double wound, 
 and of the most serious and painful nature, as it afterwards 
 developed to the grief of both scouts. 
 
 Although desperately injured, Edwards, believing his cap- 
 ture imminent, rushed from the kitchen and disappeared in the 
 Stygian darkness, leaving Newbury to whatever fate might be 
 in store for him. The alarm thus created, as I have stated, 
 brought the four men from the mansion, and as they succes- 
 sively emerged therefrom, Newbury opened fire from carbine 
 and revolver, winging one of the fugitives, who insisted that the 
 house was filled with Yankees. Mounting in great haste, the 
 five men galloped rapidly away. 
 
 Fearing the Confederates would speedily return with in- 
 creased numbers, Newbury evacuated the kitchen, and made his 
 way to the gate opening into the highway, where he took posi- 
 tion and lay in wait for the return of the discomfitted party, 
 should it have the temerity to again venture on the premises, 
 determined to have another shot or two. While thus situated 
 and almost paralyzed with the cold and a disagreeable rain, just 
 set in, Newbury heard a sound as if some one was attempting 
 to climb a fence, a few yards away. His first impulse was that 
 the noise was made by the man he had wounded, so he lowered 
 his rifle and advanced in that direction. Hearing a deep groan, 
 and now suspicioning that it might be Edwards, Newbury called 
 his name, and found indeed that it was none other. 
 
 It was only at this point that Newbury's real and manifold 
 troubles commenced. He was eight or ten miles from the 
 Union lines, surrounded by active enemies, with a helpless, per- 
 haps dying comrade, depending upon him, and in absolute dark- 
 ness, with a driving storm of rain, and a biting wind from the 
 north. His brave heart almost failed at the prospect before him 
 the situation being anything but inviting. By dint of almost 
 superhuman effort, Newbury finally succeeded in getting Ed- 
 wards over the fence, which he had vainly endeavored to climb.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 209 
 
 and partially by carrying, lugging and dragging the inanimate 
 and blood-covered form of his companion, managed to gain the 
 depths of a corn-field, where he left him to seek water which 
 Edwards constantly craved to quench his insatiable and consum- 
 ing thirst, so great was the fever with which he was no afflicted. 
 Unfortunately, Newbury had left his canteen in the garden where 
 he had slept, and was therefore without any vessel in which to 
 carry water from Accotinck Creek, a quarter of a mile away, 
 save the small tin cup which Edwards had picked up in Fitz- 
 hugh's house and put in his haversack to keep as a souvenir 
 of his visit. 
 
 When, at length, daybreak came, Newbury, fairly exhausted 
 by anxiety and his numerous trips through the corn-field to pro- 
 cure water for his stricken companion, almost despaired of con- 
 tinuing the journey unless he left Edwards behind, but after a 
 brief rest while Edwards dosed, and ascertaining his location, 
 he resumed his laborious and painful journey in the direction of 
 camp, miles and miles away, with imminent and deadly perils 
 intervening. 
 
 Edwards, whose legs had become paralyzed, rendering him 
 absolutely helpless, continued to suffer intense agony. His shat- 
 tered and constantly bleeding arm, over which he had no con- 
 trol, hung limp over Newbury's shoulder, which greatly added to 
 his task in supporting his burden over the rough and uneven 
 ground. At times Newbury was strongly tempted to abandon 
 his rifle and cartridges, but feeling that two lives might depend 
 on that protection, he as often relinquished the idea, and great 
 and inconvenient as was his double burden, struggled on and on, 
 determined, if necessary, to die in defence of his suffering com- 
 panion, who, most of the time, was unconscious of the herculean 
 efforts of the brave and gallant Union Carolinian to save his life, 
 even at the risk of his own. No greater sacrifice can a man 
 make than to offer his life for a helpless comrade or for his 
 country. 
 
 When Newbury, through a cold rain-storm and angry winds 
 from the frozen north, finally reached Accotinck Creek, too deep 
 to ford, he saw no way of crossing the stream, and his strength 
 and heroic courage almost deserted him as he sadly contemplated 
 the obstruction yawning before him. He knew of a bridge, 
 several miles away, strongly guarded, and he also knew of an 
 apology for a bridge improvised by nature in the shape of a 
 monarch of the Virginia forest, prostrated by time and age. 
 Concluding that this alone would enable him to cross the flow-
 
 210 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 ing stream, Newbury again shouldered his burden and labori- 
 ously made his way thereto. The passage was made in safety, 
 and Newbury was congratulating himself upon its accomplish- 
 ment, when, in descending the trunk, somewhat elevated from 
 the wet ground, he missed his precarious footing, and fell in the 
 mud. carrying Edwards with him. A fearful and heart-rending 
 cry of pain from the sufferer awoke echoes in the deep surround- 
 ing woods, which resounded with alarming distinctness far and 
 wide. To stifle Edwards' terrible moans of agony, Newbury was 
 compelled to gag him for a time. 
 
 All through that long and fearful day, with a fierce cold wind 
 piercing the marrow of his bones, with his apparel thoroughly 
 saturated with the constantly descending rain, the gallant New- 
 bury toiled on and on towards the haven of rest and security. 
 Weak, worn and faint from the great efforts he had put forth 
 for more than sixteen hours, our hero, at seven o'clock in the 
 evening of that dark and dreary November day, wearily reached 
 a Union piquet post, falling prostrate through exhaustion, with 
 his still unconscious burden, as Union soldiers hastened to his 
 assistance, ministered to his necessities, and conveyed him and 
 his suffering comrade to the hospital. 
 
 A month later Newbury cleverly captured a private named 
 Johnson, belonging to the Lincoln Cavalry of New York, while 
 attempting to enter the Confederate lines as a deserter. John- 
 son was shortly after executed for his crime in the presence of 
 the Union army near Alexandria. 
 
 NEW JERSEY'S MEDAL WINNERS. 
 
 MORE than one million men have sought for, and less than 
 two thousand men have secured, the most coveted prize 
 offered by this country to the soldier and sailor the 
 Congressional Medal of Honor. But twenty-seven of this num- 
 ber belonged to New Jersey commands ten having member- 
 ship in the First New Jersey cavalry, which appears to have 
 been particularly fortunate in this respect. Not even a Presi- 
 dent of the United States, as Commander in Chief, nor the Ad- 
 miral of the Navy can win it, however brave they might be. 
 
 The Medal of Honor is the highest decoration for personal 
 valor awarded to soldiers and sailors of the United States. It is
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 
 
 211 
 
 to Americans what the Iron 
 Cross of Germany, the Vic- 
 toria Cross of England, or the 
 Cross of the Legion of Honor 
 of France are to those coun- 
 tries (but much harder to 
 win), the reward of the high- 
 est and most self-sacrificing 
 heroism. Every wearer of it 
 is supposed to be a hero 
 whose personal deeds in bat- 
 tle, by sea or land, have been 
 so conspicuous as to merit the 
 approval of the War Depart- 
 ment and of the President of 
 the United States, upon those 
 who staked their all for the 
 salvation of the country, but 
 it is known medals have been 
 issued to some who never had 
 a sound claim for the prize. 
 This is shown, for instance, 
 in the award of medals to four 
 
 members of the Twenty-seventh New Jersey Infantry a nine 
 months' regiment for simply "offering their services to the Gov- 
 ernment after the expiration of their term of service." If they 
 were entitled to the honor, certainly hundreds of thousands of 
 other men who re-enlisted after much longer and trying terms 
 of service were justly entitled to the distinction. 
 
 The greatest honor which the Government can bestow upon 
 its soldiers and sailors and which carries no pension or other 
 emolument with it, was conferred for conspicuous gallantry dur- 
 ing the Civil War by an act of Congress, passed March 3, 1863. 
 Recommendation for this decoration is referred to a special board 
 of regular army officers at Washington, appointed by the Secre- 
 tary of War, and approved by the President, for the purpose of 
 examining the official reports. These are judged by a standard 
 of extraordinary merit, and incontestable proof of the nature of 
 the service rendered is exacted. The medal is not granted on 
 the application of the person interested, nor upon the recom- 
 mendation and testimony of his comrades. To obtain the medal 
 a man must have a splendid record as well as a particular inci- 
 dent of conspicuous bravery.
 
 212 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 As far back as 1782 General Washington established the 
 honorary badge of military merit as a reward for men who served 
 with distinction in the Revolutionary War. Since then the 
 reward system has assumed different forms. The brevet sys- 
 tem, which was the most popular form, was started in 1776, and 
 yet at the commencement of the War of 1812 not a single army 
 officer held a brevet. The system, however, was wonderfully 
 developed in the Mexican War, and during and after the Civil 
 War brevets were handed out promiscuously. They could be 
 had for the asking. 
 
 Thousands who fell in the Civil War gloriously earned the 
 Medal of Honor, but Congress, cruel though it may seem, recog- 
 nizes only the heroes who lived. In New Jersey time has thinned 
 the ranks of the veterans of the Civil War, and now those who, 
 by deeds of valor and merit, received the Medal of Honor for 
 services rendered the United States, are few and far between. 
 So far as I am able to ascertain, but four Jerseymen holders of 
 the medal are now living. 
 
 The following is a complete list of New Jersey soldiers who 
 received the medal, with official record attached : 
 
 Sergeant John P. Beech, Company B, Fourth New Jersey 
 Infantry, Spottsylvania Court House, Va., May 12, 1864. Vol- 
 untarily worked gun of battery that had been deserted. 
 
 Lieutenant William Brant, Company B, First New Jersey 
 Veteran Battalion, Petersburg, April 3, 1865. Found flag of 
 Forty-sixth North Carolina Regiment on picket line. 
 
 Sergeant Samuel T. Clancy, Company C, First New Jersey 
 Cavalry, Vaughn Road, Va., October 1, 1864. Shot and killed 
 Confederate General Dunovant during a charge, thus confusing 
 enemy and greatly aiding in repulse. 
 
 Private Richard Conner, Company F, Sixth New Jersey In- 
 fantry, Bull Run, Va., August 30, 1862. The flag of the Sixth 
 Regiment having been abandoned during a retreat, Conner 
 voluntarily returned with a single companion under a heavy fire 
 and secured and brought off the colors, his comrade being killed. 
 
 Sergeant Major Amos J. Cummings, Twenty-sixth New 
 Jersey Infantry, Salem Heights, Va., May 4, 1863. Rendered 
 great assistance in the heat of the action in rescuing a part of 
 one of the field batteries from an extremely dangerous and 
 exposed position. 
 
 Captain J. Madison Drake, Ninth New Jersey Infantry. 
 Gallant and distinguished services in the field, 1861-1865. First 
 to enter Confederate works at the battle of Newbern, N. C.,
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 213 
 
 March 14, 1862. Commanded advance of Army of the James in 
 its attack on Drewry's Bluff, Va., May, 1861. 
 
 First Sergeant Edmund English, Company C, Second New 
 Jersey Infantry, Wilderness, Va., May 6, 1864. During a rout, 
 and while under orders to retreat, seized the colors, rallied the 
 men and drove the enemy back. 
 
 Private Frank Fesq, Company A, Fortieth New Jersey In- 
 fantry, Petersburg, Va., April 2, 1865. Captured flag of Eigh- 
 teenth North Carolina Infantry. 
 
 Corporal William B. Hooper, Company L, First New Jer- 
 sey Cavalry, Chamberlain's Creek, Va., March 31, 1865. With 
 the assistance of comrade, headed off the advance of the enemy, 
 shooting two of his color-bearers ; also posted himself between 
 the enemy and the led horses of his own command, thus saving 
 the herd from capture. 
 
 Private Charles F. Hopkins, Company I, First New Jersey 
 Infantry, Gaines's Mill, Va., June 27, 1862. Voluntarily carried 
 a wounded comrade (the late Quartermaster-General R. A. Don- 
 nelly) under a heavy fire to a place of safety; though twice 
 wounded in the act, he continued in action until again severely 
 wounded. 
 
 Private Lewis Locke, Company A, First New Jersey Cav- 
 alry, Paine's Cross Roads, Va., April 5, 1865. Captured Con- 
 federate flag. 
 
 Drummer William Megee, Company G, Thirty-third New 
 Jersey Infantry, Murfreesboro, Tenn., December 5, 1864. Among 
 first to capture two guns. 
 
 Sergeant William Porter, Company H, First New Jersey 
 Cavalry, Nashville, Tenn., December 15-16, 1864. Among the 
 first to check the enemy's countercharge. 
 
 Sergeant John C. Sagelhurst, Company C, First New Jer- 
 sey Cavalry, Hatcher's Run, Va., February 6, 1865. Under a 
 heavy fire from the enemy carried off the field a commissioned 
 officer who was severely wounded, and also led a charge on 
 enemy's rifle pits. (This medal was issued January 31, 1906.) 
 
 Colonel William J. Sewell, Fifth New Jersey Infantry, Chan- 
 cellorsville, Va., May 3, 1863. Assuming command of brigade, 
 he rallied around his colors a mass of men from other regiments 
 and fought these troops with great brilliancy through several 
 hours of desperate conflict, remaining in command though 
 wounded and inspiring them by his presence and the gallantry of 
 his personal example. 
 
 Sergeant David Southard, Company C, First New Jersey
 
 214 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Cavalry, Sailors' Creek, Va., April 6, 1865. Capture of flag, and 
 first man over in enemy's works. 
 
 First Sergeant George W. Stewart, Company E, First New 
 Jersey Cavalry, Paine's Cross Roads, April 5, 1865. Capture 
 of flag. 
 
 Private Christian Sterile, Company L, First New Jersey 
 Cavalry, Paine's Cross Roads, Va., April 5, 1865. Capture of 
 flag. 
 
 Captain Forester L. Taylor, Company H, Twenty-third New 
 Jersey Infantry, Chancellorsville, Va., May 3, 1863. At great 
 risk, voluntarily saved the lives of, and brought from battle- 
 field, two wounded comrades. 
 
 Sergeant Charles Titus, Company H, First New Jersey Cav- 
 alry, Sailors' Creek, Va., April 6, 1865. Was among the first to 
 check the enemy's countercharge. 
 
 Lieutenant John J. Toffey, Company G, Thirty-third New 
 Jersey Infantry. Although excused from duty on account of 
 sickness, he went to the front in command of a storming party 
 and with conspicuous gallantry participated in the assault on 
 Missionary Ridge. 
 
 Sergeant Aaron B. Tomkins, Company G, First New Jersey 
 Cavalry, Sailors' Creek, Va., April 6, 1865. Charged into enemy's 
 ranks and captured flag, having horse shot under him, and his 
 cheeks and shoulder cut with a sabre. 
 
 Sergeant Charles E. Wilson, Company A, First New Jersey 
 Cavalry, Sailors' Creek, Va., April 6, 1865. Charged the enemy's 
 works, colors in hand, and had two horses shot under him. 
 
 Sergeant John Wilson, Company L, First New Jersey Cav- 
 alry, Chamberlain's Creek, Va., March 31, 1865. With the 
 assistance of one comrade headed off the advance of the enemy, 
 shooting two of his color-bearers, and kept between the enemy 
 and the led hbrses of his company, thus saving the herd from 
 capture. 
 
 TRICKED BY SHARPSHOOTER. 
 
 OF the many brave and noble-hearted young men in the 
 army during the Civil War none were more daring or 
 faithful in the execution of dangerous duty than Dennis 
 McDonald, of Company K, Third New Jersey Volunteers, still 
 living at his home in Elizabeth. McDonald was but 18 years of 
 age when he responded to the call of his adopted country for 
 volunteers to defend the flag he loved. He participated with
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 215 
 
 his command in nearly all the battles in which the Army of the 
 Potomac engaged, and was noted for expertness with a rifle. 
 
 It was while pursuing General Lee's decimated, defeated 
 and demoralized army, after the sanguinary three days' battle 
 at Gettysburg that McDonald's company found itself on the 
 advancing skirmish line, close upon the heel of the swiftly retreat- 
 ing Confederates, who were taking desperate chances in reaching 
 the Potomac River. So severe and hot was one fight which the 
 Confederates put up at one particular spot, that the lieutenant, 
 to save Company K from capture, ordered a retreat. The retro- 
 gade movement was executed by all save McDonald, who, secur- 
 ing the friendly protection of a large tree conveniently at hand, 
 remained and continued firing on his own account, as oppor- 
 tunity presented itself. 
 
 After a while McDonald, peering from his covert, and see- 
 ing the Confederates disappearing from his front, stepped out 
 into the open, and was surprised when he heard the report of a 
 rifle and felt a big Minnie bullet tearing through his old blue cap r 
 which was carried from his head. A moment sufficed to regain 
 the covering he had the moment before left. He knew a Con- 
 federate sharpshooter was similarly situated a hundred or so- 
 yards in his front, and realized that one or the other must suffer 
 because of the peculiar situation in which they thus unexpectedly 
 found themselves. 
 
 McDonald, holding his very breath, waited some time to 
 hear from the Confederate, who continued to hug his tree as 
 closely as possible, and finally finding it useless to prolong the 
 agony he was suffering, resorted to the ruse of placing his cap 
 on the muzzle of his rifle, and slowly extending the weapon, ex- 
 posed the headgear. The stratagem succeeded, as the next in- 
 stant a well-aimed bullet went crashing through the cap, and 
 McDonald fell to the ground in plain view of his enemy, who- 
 instantly darted from his hiding place and advanced on a rim 
 toward the prostrate and supposedly dead wounded soldier. 
 
 McDonald, all alert, waited till the self-confident Confederate 
 reached within a few feet of where he lay, then he sprang to his 
 feet and leveling his rifle at the onrushing Confederate, bade 
 him halt, throw down his unloaded weapon and surrender. 
 
 Surprised at McDonald's return to life as well as his de- 
 mand, the plucky Confederate turned upon his heel and dashedi 
 away in the direction in which he had just come. 
 
 "Halt!" shouted McDonald, giving instant chase, "or TIE 
 blow your head off."
 
 216 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 To this peremptory summons the Confederate paid no heed, 
 but continued his flight, the Union soldier close in his rear. 
 
 McDonald, now some distance in advance of the Union 
 troops, fearful of running into a bunch of Confederates, and hav- 
 ing no desire to be killed or taken to Richmond, determined to 
 bring matters to a conclusion. He shouted loud enough to 
 awaken the "seven sleepers," but the fleeing Confederate con- 
 tinued on. Nothing but a bullet would stop his flight, and this 
 the now hard-breathing Union soldier was compelled to send. 
 
 "Halt ! or I'll shoot. Last call," said McDonald, and suiting 
 the action to the word, he discharged his trusty rifle, bringing 
 down his quarry with a bullet through one of his legs. In an- 
 other moment McDonald was at the side of the prostrate 
 Southron. 
 
 "Curse you," he bitterly ejaculated. "I hope I'll live to get 
 even with you for this." 
 
 It was thousands of instances of like character that showed 
 the stuff of which Northern and Southern soldiers in the great 
 Civil War were made. 
 
 THE "TECUMSEH'S" MOURNFUL FATE. 
 
 UNDERNEATH the ever-flowing waters of Mobile Bay, 
 near the ruins of Fort Morgan, which the Confederates 
 deemed impregnable, forever lies buried the United 
 States Monitor Tecumseh, a powerful craft with its living cargo 
 of one hundred brave souls, having been sent to its final resting- 
 place early on the morning of August 5, 1864, by a Confederate 
 torpedo. Within the iron walls of the unfortunate Tecumseh, 
 the only vessel in the great sea fight there to meet with disaster, 
 still repose the bones of one hundred of the bravest young men 
 who ever served our country one of whom, when the Civil War 
 burst forth, was a resident of Elizabeth. 
 
 It was six o'clock in the morning of that glorious and event- 
 ful day, in which American valor shone with conspicuous bril- 
 liancy, when the Union fleet, in command of Admiral David G. 
 Farragut (an ensign in the navy at the age of eleven years), who 
 first saw the light of day in a humble cabin among the mountains 
 of East Tennessee, the greatest seaman of his day, after locking 
 his vessels together, two by two, steamed from the open sea into 
 the bay, strongly guarded by forts on land and powerful ships 
 ready to dispute entrance. The Brooklyn led the column, fol-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 217 
 
 lowed by Farragut's flagship, the immortal Hartford, and in sin- 
 gle file ahead of this procession of death and destruction went 
 four iron-clad monitors, escorted by the fated Tecumseh. 
 
 The Tecumseh fired the first two shots in opening what 
 proved to be one of the fiercest naval engagements recorded in 
 history, lasting, as it did, from seven o'clock in the morning till 
 five o'clock in the afternoon, and ending in the complete triumph 
 of the Union fleet. The intrepid Farragut, lashed to the rigging, 
 close under the maintop, the better to watch the progress of the 
 battle, and give more intelligent orders, seeing the Brooklyn 
 wavering in its advance after the Tecumseh went to the bottom, 
 signaled to his commander, "What's the trouble?" On receiv- 
 ing the answer, "Torpedoes ahead !" the admiral replied, "Damn 
 the torpedoes ! Go ahead ! Four bells !" 
 
 Somewhat provoked at the slight stoppage of the Brooklyn, 
 the admiral at once ordered the Hartford to forge ahead, and in 
 a moment that noble ship passed the Brooklyn, an awful silence 
 pervading her crew as she went, full speed, straight for the line 
 of torpedoes, and in safety crossed what was considered the fatal 
 line. 
 
 A recent guest of Sergeant William Zimmerman of Eliza- 
 beth, who was a gunner on the Hartford, in telling the Zouaves 
 about the fight, said that one of the strangest fatalities he saw 
 during the whole course of the war was when a powder boy 
 named Clark, hailing from some part of New Jersey, lost both 
 legs by a round shot from the Confederate ram Tennessee, which 
 tore through both sides of the Hartford. "As Clark fell," con- 
 tinued the old sailor, "he involuntarily threw up both hands, 
 when a second but smaller missile took off both arms above the 
 elbow. He lived but a few minutes. 
 
 "Yes, I saw the Monitor Tecumseh go down. She was 
 struck forward and directly underneath by a powerful mine. I 
 was looking out of a port-hole at the moment, trying to see all I 
 could, which, I must say, was very little, owing to the small 
 opening, and it just chanced that as I looked out at one time 
 between the shots, I saw the Tecumseh raised from the water, 
 and the next instant plunge bow foremost, with her colors flying, 
 to the bottom of the deep channel. 
 
 "My heart almost failed me at this awful sight, which I was 
 attempting to describe to those about me, when an officer bade 
 me be quiet. He probably didn't want the men to get rattled 
 over the circumstance. There was a moment or two about that 
 time when we all shook in our shoes, as we knew there would be
 
 218 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 a slim chance for us to escape in case our ship should be struck 
 in a vital part, or sunk by one of the several Confederate vessels 
 which made repeated attempts to ram us. 
 
 "I saw Admiral Farragut ascend the rigging of the Hart- 
 ford to a height of some sixty feet in order to know more about 
 what was going on, and heard Captain Drayton, who feared the 
 admiral might fall, order 'Dick' Knowles to accompany the old 
 fellow and lash him to the rope ladder up which he made his way 
 with extreme agility. 
 
 "It had been the admiral's intention to occupy the top, to 
 which a rubber hose, with tin mouth-piece at each end, was hung 
 on the mast from the top to the deck, so that he could the more 
 readily communicate with our pilot, but it being found expedient 
 to mount a gun up there, the admiral took position in the rig- 
 ging underneath, and was strapped to it with a gasket. Tire- 
 some as it must have been, the admiral remained in that position 
 for several hours. None of us thought anything about the lash- 
 ing incident at the time, or dreamed that it was just the thing 
 that would catch the public fancy and make the admiral more 
 famous than any other incident of his long career. At Santiago, 
 a few years ago, a fleet captain, fifty miles away from the point 
 of danger, was made a rear-admiral, but things are far different 
 in these days." 
 
 Of the sad fate of the brave defenders of our flag, thus 
 cruelly engulfed beneath the waters of Mobile Bay that day, 
 under a terrible fire or iron hail rained from land and sea, and 
 who have since slept tranquilly in their iron tomb, I doubt not, 
 all met the last grim messenger with eye and heart uplifted, it 
 may be, but dauntless and unquailing, having commended them- 
 selves to the mercy of Heaven, their last moments doubtless be- 
 ing spent in invoking blessings on the heads of loved ones at 
 home, who grew faint while keeping weary vigils for the loved 
 and lost. 
 
 THE NOTED WAR EAGLE. 
 
 THE present busy generation knows but little, if anything, 
 concerning "Old Abe," the war eagle of the Eighth Wis- 
 consin Regiment, a bird that may be said to be immortal, 
 because of its association through the long and bitter war for 
 the Union, with the western army, whose members idolized it 
 while alive and mourned for it when dead. 
 
 "Old Abe" died at Madison, the capital of Wisconsin, in
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 219 
 
 1881, at the age of twenty years. While in attendance at the 
 National Republican Convention at Chicago in June, 1868, 
 when General Grant was first nominated for the presidency, amid 
 the greatest enthusiasm ever shown at such a gathering, I very 
 well remember the tumultuous scenes and uproarious applause 
 enacted by the immense assemblage in the most commodious 
 theatre in Chicago, when "Old Abe," perched upon the staff on 
 which he had accompanied the Eighth Regiment in all its cam- 
 paigns, was borne in upon the stage after General Grant's nomi- 
 nation had been made by acclamation. 
 
 Born in the wilds of Wisconsin just previous to the out- 
 break of the war, the chequered life of "Old Abe" was an ova- 
 tion from beginning to end. General Grant himself might have 
 envied the popularity of this noble bird, and long in vain for the 
 cheers and applause which everywhere, and upon all occasions, 
 greeted him. "Old Abe," always borne aloft beside the silken 
 colors of his regiment, and consequently a conspicuous mark in 
 the thirty-six battles through which he passed, although fre- 
 quently struck by bullets, escaped serious injury. In the battle's 
 red heat his piercing screams nerved the men of his regiment to 
 deeds of daring, and never a bird that wore plumage had experi- 
 ences or fame like "Old Abe." No other command ever had or 
 used such a mascot one so capable of exciting imagination and 
 inciting soldiery to the work before them so glorious an 
 emblem. 
 
 The golden eagle was the military emblem of the Roman 
 republic, the attachment of its troops to the standard being in- 
 spired by the united influence of religion and honor. It glittered 
 in the front of the legion, and was ever the object of fondest 
 devotion ; nor was it esteemed less impious than ignominious, 
 to abandon that sacred ensign in the hour of danger. The golden 
 eagle, too, was the treasured ensign of Napoleon and his choicest 
 followers, but the American eagle was and is the symbol of the 
 greatest and freest republic ever formed our own beloved 
 America. 
 
 "Old Abe," too, was a faithful and intelligent sentinel, as 
 on repeated occasions he sounded notes of warning of the hither- 
 to unsuspected advance of the enemy. He seemed gifted with 
 human instinct, and it was because of acts of this character that 
 "Old Abe" was regarded by the soldiers with feelings akin to 
 superstitious reverence. 
 
 Often and again did "Old Abe" play tricks on his caretaker 
 by escaping, and soaring high towards the heavens, to be out of
 
 220 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 the enemy's range, enjoy an ethereal excursion, and tiring of the 
 mid-air flight, return to his place in the marching column. At 
 the battle of Jackson, in rear of Vicksburg, during the siege of 
 that stronghold, a terrible storm of lightning and thunder added 
 clamor to the wild roar of the contest, but this merely added to 
 the joys of "Old Abe," upon whose pinions the lightning played, 
 as spreading his majestic wings he whistled in a manner peculiar 
 to himself and screamed like the true bird of Jove that he was. 
 
 "Old Abe" delighted particularly in the booming of artillery, 
 never manifesting fear in presence of the big guns that constantly 
 pounded away at Vicksburg. On the contrary, at every dis- 
 charge he would spread his wings and utter cloud-reaching 
 screams as if animated by all the enthusiasm of war, and the 
 exciting scenes about him. His conduct at such times was highly 
 inspiring. 
 
 At the final assault on Vicksburg "Old Abe" firmly gripped 
 his perch, as he was borne along and aloft, craned his beautiful 
 and graceful neck to watch the movements of the troops, his 
 eyes blazing and seeming in a frenzy of rage. While the colors 
 of the Eighth Regiment, ever at his side, were riddled, "Old 
 Abe," although hit several times, escaped injury. 
 
 Upon the return home of the Eighth Regiment, and its 
 muster-out of the service, "Old Abe" was presented to the state, 
 the governor accepting the old warrior in an eloquent speech, 
 promising that the commonwealth should care for him till 
 the end, which was religiously done the bird having a com- 
 fortable home in the basement of the capital, where, until his 
 death, he was an object of especial interest to all visitors. 
 
 Smoke at a fire in an adjoining apartment caused the death 
 of "Old Abe" by asphyxiation, and he was made a subject of 
 the taxidermist's art, and to-day his stuffed effigy, gracefully 
 placed upon his old perch, attracts all visitors to the state house 
 at Madison. 
 
 REGULARS AND VOLUNTEERS COMPARED. 
 
 IN times of war the American nation has always relied upon 
 the people for volunteers to defend its institutions, and the 
 people of the United States owe their present marvelous 
 prosperity, their peace at home and world-wide influence to the 
 single fact that the Union was preserved by the self-sacrifices, 
 patriotism, valor, and fortitude of the volunteers. In respect to
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 221 
 
 the interests of the entire human race, the preservation of the 
 Union was the most important political event in the tide of time, 
 and the victory achieved by American volunteers, after a des- 
 perate struggle for four years, kept in the political firmament of 
 the world, as a beacon light, the republican principle of self- 
 government. The repose, progress and prosperity, to say noth- 
 ing about the very existence of the United States as a nation, was 
 involved in that sanguinary struggle. 
 
 The regular army of the United States has ever been a neg- 
 ligible quantity. When the war of 1812 began we had but 6,686 
 officers and men, all told, in the regular establishment. In 1814 
 the number was temporarily increased to 38,186. During the 
 war the country raised 31,210 officers and 440,412 enlisted men, 
 making a total of 471,622. 
 
 When war was declared against Mexico the regular army 
 numbered 637 officers and 5,925 enlisted men a total of 6,562. 
 By July, 1814, we had 1,016 officers and 35,009 enlisted men a 
 total of 42,587. A volunteer force of 3,131 officers and 70,129 
 enlisted men, a total of 73,260, was raised for that war. 
 
 When the Civil War came the regular army consisted of but 
 15,215 officers and men, scattered throughout our broad land. In 
 June, 1862, the regular army numbered 1,720 officers and 23,761 
 enlisted men total, 25,480. In June, 1863, there were 1,844 
 officers and 22,915 men total, 24,759. In June, 1864, there were 
 1,813 officers and 19,791 men total, 21,604. In April, 1865, 
 when General Lee surrendered his Army of Northern Virginia 
 to General Grant at Appomattox, the regular army consisted of 
 1,606 officers and 20,705 men, a total of 22,311 of all arms. 
 
 The volunteer enlistments of all lengths of service during 
 the four years of the Civil War numbered 2,763,670. These re- 
 duced to a three years' standard of enlistment numbered 2,324,- 
 516. 
 
 The regular army lost but 122 officers and 1,519 enlisted 
 men killed in action, and 452 officers and 6,663 enlisted men 
 wounded. Of the volunteers, 4,142 officers and 62,916 enlisted 
 men were killed in action, and 2,223 officers and 40,787 enlisted 
 men died of wounds, making a total of 110,065 officers and en- 
 listed men who lost their lives in action. This shows with ter- 
 rible distinctness the difference in casualties between the regulars 
 and volunteers. This does not include the 248,000 volunteers 
 who died of diseases and casualties incident to the service, and 
 hundreds of thousands of volunteers who were wounded and 
 recovered.
 
 222 HISTORICAL SKETCHES- OF THE 
 
 While all regular army officers, many of whom secured snug 
 berths in Washington and other cities while the fighting was 
 going on, on retirement received three-fourths' pay for life, not a 
 volunteer officer, save a few of high rank who had political influ- 
 ence in congress, ever received that recognition. 
 
 Will any one say this is just ? 
 
 NEW JERSEY'S FORCE IN THE FIELD. 
 
 IN its efforts to sustain the Government and aid in the preser- 
 vation of the American Union in the fratricidal conflict of 
 
 1861-1865, New Jersey, true to its traditions, gave freely of 
 its treasure, and its best blood crimsoned nearly every battle- 
 field of the republic. 
 
 The defiant shouts of New Jersey soldiers were first heard 
 in the swamps of Roanoke Island, and these were echoed on the 
 heights of Fredericksburg, in the Shenandoah valley, at Gettys- 
 burg, in the impenetrable thickets of the Wilderness, on the 
 banks of the majestic James River, at Missionary Ridge, among 
 the clouds at Lookout Mountain and other sanguinary fields. 
 
 I have compiled the following from the official records of the 
 rebellion, as published by the state of New Jersey, and the facts 
 given may not be wholly uninteresting to readers of the present 
 day. 
 
 New Jersey is credited with having furnished about 80,000 
 men for the army and navy during the Civil War, but probably 
 one-fourth of this aggregate enlisted two or three times. Thou- 
 sands, however, who "jumped the bounty" at every opportunity 
 and never gave a "quid pro quo" for the money expended upon 
 them, enlisted more frequently. 
 
 First Regiment Officers, 38; enlisted men, 996. Gained 
 Officers, 61 ; enlisted men, 302. Died Officers, 10 ; enlisted 
 men, 224. Deserted 124. 
 
 Second Regiment Officers, 38; enlisted men, 1,006. Gained 
 Officers, 79; enlisted men, 1,075. Died Officers, 9; enlisted 
 men, 151. Deserted 204. 
 
 Third Regiment Officers, 38; enlisted men, 1,013. Gained 
 Officers, 76; enlisted men, 148. Died Officers, 10; enlisted 
 men, 203. Deserted 111. 
 
 Fourth Regiment Officers, 38 ; enlisted men, 871. Gained 
 Officers, 99; enlisted men, 1,028. Died Officers, 7; enlisted 
 men, 250. Deserted 371.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 223 
 
 Fifth Regiment Officers, 38 ; enlisted men, 823. Gained 
 Officers, 66; enlisted men, 845. Died Officers, 13; enlisted 
 men, 201. Deserted 251. 
 
 Sixth Regiment Officers, 38 ; enlisted men, 860. Gained 
 Officers, 50 ; enlisted men, 537. Died Officers, 4 ; enlisted men, 
 176. Deserted 209. 
 
 Seventh Regiment Officers, 38 ; enlisted men, 882. Gained 
 Officers, 108; enlisted men, 1,078. Died Officers, 13 ; enlisted 
 men, 247. Deserted, 656. 
 
 Eighth Regiment Officers, 38; enlisted men, 851. Gained 
 Officers, 87; enlisted men, 1,819. Died Officers, 10; enlisted 
 men, 274. Deserted 416. 
 
 Ninth Regiment Officers, 42; enlisted men, 1,115. Gained 
 Officers, 85; enlisted men, 1,459. Died Officers, 11; enlisted 
 men, 243. Deserted 167. 
 
 Tenth Regiment Officers, 35 ; enlisted men, 883. Gained 
 Officers, 69. Died Officers, 5 ; enlisted men, 269. Deserted 
 748. 
 
 Eleventh Regiment Officers, 39 ; enlisted men, 940. Gained 
 Officers, 57 ; enlisted men, 804. Died Officers, 1 1 ; enlisted 
 men, 222. Deserted 451. 
 
 Twelfth Regiment Officers, 39; enlisted men, 953. Gained 
 Officers, 37; enlisted men, 850. Died Officers, 9; enlisted 
 men, 252. Deserted 216. 
 
 Thirteenth Regiment Officers, 38; enlisted men, 899. 
 Gained Officers, 57 ; enlisted men, 444. Died Officers, 3 ; en- 
 listed men, 103. Deserted 178. 
 
 Fourteenth Regiment Officers, 39; enlisted men, 968. 
 Gained Officers, 47 ; enlisted men, 330. Died Officers, 8 ; en- 
 listed men, 240. Deserted 97. 
 
 Fifteenth Regiment Officers, 38 ; enlisted men, 909. Gained 
 Officers, 72; enlisted men, 852. Died Officers, 9; enlisted 
 men, 352. Deserted 108. 
 
 Sixteenth Regiment (First Cavalry) Officers, 44; enlisted 
 men, 998. Gained Officers, 150; enlisted men, 2,125. Died 
 Officers, 16 ; enlisted men, 282. Deserted 452. 
 
 (The First New Jersey Cavalry was the Sixteenth Regiment, 
 and the four regiments of militia, "First Defenders," which an- 
 swered President Lincoln's first call, in April, 1861, were num- 
 bered Seventeenth, Eighteenth, Nineteenth and Twentieth Regi- 
 ments, respectively.) 
 
 The Twenty-first, Twenty-second, Twenty-third, Twenty- 
 fourth, Twenty-fifth, Twenty-sixth, Twenty-seventh, Twenty-
 
 224 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 eighth, Twenty-ninth, Thirtieth and Thirty-first Regiments were 
 called out for nine months in 1862. 
 
 Twenty-first Regiment: Died Officers, 2; enlisted men, 
 49. Deserted 44. 
 
 Twenty-second Regiment : Died Officers, 1 ; enlisted men, 
 37. Deserted 12. 
 
 Twenty-third Regiment : Died Officers, 5 ; enlisted men, 
 79. Deserted 10. 
 
 Twenty-fourth Regiment : Died Officers, 3 ; enlisted men, 
 89. Deserted 8. 
 
 Twenty-fifth Regiment : Died Officers, 1 ; enlisted men, 
 56. Deserted 18. 
 
 Twenty-sixth Regiment : Died Officers, 1 ; enlisted men, 
 35. Deserted 26. 
 
 Twenty-seventh Regiment : Died Officers, 1 ; enlisted 
 men, 85. Deserted 44. 
 
 Twenty-eighth Regiment: Died Officers, 2; enlisted men, 
 79. Deserted 15. 
 
 Twenty-ninth Regiment: Died Officers, 0; enlisted men, 
 4. Deserted 17. 
 
 Thirtieth Regiment : Died Officers, 2 ; enlisted men, 62. 
 Deserted 14. 
 
 Thirty-first Regiment : Died Officers, ; enlisted men, 39. 
 Deserted 2. 
 
 Thirty-second Regiment (Second Cavalry) Officers, 44 ; en- 
 listed men, 1,105. Gained Officers, 36; enlisted men, 1,715. 
 Died Officers, 3; enlisted men, 231. Deserted 724. 
 
 Thirty-third Regiment Officers, 39; enlisted men, 902. 
 Gained Officers, 36; enlisted men, 1,207. Died Officers, 6; 
 enlisted men, 141. Deserted 502. 
 
 Thirty-fourth Regiment Officers, 35 ; enlisted men, 830. 
 Gained Officers, 27; enlisted men, 1,401. Died Officers, 3; 
 enlisted men. 152. Deserted 728. 
 
 Thirty-fifth Regiment Officers, 37; enlisted men, 865. 
 Gained Officers, 37 ; enlisted men, 967. Died Officers, 3 ; en- 
 listed men, 144. Deserted 430. 
 
 Thirty-sixth Regiment (Third Cavalry) Officers, 47; en- 
 listed men, 1,131. Gained Officers, 59; enlisted men, 997. 
 Died Officers, 5 ; enlisted men, 140. Deserted 439. 
 
 Thirty-seventh Regiment (100 days) Officers, 35 ; enlisted 
 men, 743. Gained Officers, 2; enlisted men, 1. Died Officers, 
 1 ; enlisted men, 18. Deserted 36. 
 
 Thirty-eighth Regiment (one year) Officers, 58; enlisted
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. * 225 
 
 men, 944. Gained Officers, 7; enlisted men, 59. Died Offi- 
 cers, 0; enlisted men, 11. Deserted 59. 
 
 Thirty-ninth Regiment (one year) Officers, 39; enlisted 
 men, 977. Gained Enlisted men, 112. Died Officers, 3; en- 
 listed men, 36. Deserted 53. 
 
 Fortieth Regiment (one year) Officers, 37; enlisted men, 
 984. Gained Officers, 9; enlisted men 379. Died Officers, 
 0; enlisted men, 19. Deserted 399. 
 
 The four regiments of New Jersey Militia (really volun- 
 teers) was the first brigade to reach the National Capital under 
 President Lincoln's first call for 75,000 men. The brigade, in 
 command of Major General Theodore Runyon, after crossing 
 the Long Bridge over the Potomac, on May 24, 1861, led the 
 advance of the grand army in the direction of Alexandria, and 
 for two months performed the hardest kind of service in guard- 
 ing outposts and in constructing Fort Runyon, the most exten- 
 sive earthwork put up for the defense of Washington on the right 
 bank of the river. The men of the brigade, although performing 
 "extra duty" most of the time of their enlistment, never received 
 any pay for their herculean labor, save the munificent salary of 
 $11 per month. Most of the men, on their return home after 
 the battle of Bull Run, enlisted in three-year regiments. 
 
 The Ninth was the first New Jersey Regiment to engage in 
 battle with the enemy, participating, as it did, with great bril- 
 liancy at Roanoke Island, on February 8 ; Newbern, on March 
 14, and the siege and capture of Fort Macon, in April, 1862. 
 This was anterior to any general engagement of the Army of 
 the Potomac, to which all the eight regiments that preceded the 
 Ninth to the field belonged. It was the only New Jersey Regi- 
 ment to lose two colonels, Allen and Zabriskie. The Ninth 
 served a longer period than any other New Jersey Regiment 
 nearly four years. 
 
 The Fifteenth Regiment, one of the immortal commands of 
 the Republic, was the only New Jersey command that lost more 
 than 300 men, the First New Jersey Cavalry being a close second. 
 
 From the forty regiments New Jersey sent into the field 
 there were 7,637 desertions, exclusive of 1,041 "not accounted 
 for." The Tenth Regiment led this list, with a total of 748, the 
 Thirty-fourth being second, with 728. 
 
 New Jersey, during the Civil War, lost on fields of battle 
 218 commissioned officers and 6,082 enlisted men, nearly as 
 many, in the aggregate, as the state furnished the Continental 
 army during the Revolutionary War.
 
 226 
 
 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 DARING FEATS OF UNION SCOUTS. 
 
 INHERE were thousands of instances during the Civil War 
 where both officers and enlisted men vied in tendering 
 their services for perilous enterprises in aid of their coun- 
 try's cause. When volunteers were called for to render services 
 of a peculiarly dangerous character outside the line of regular 
 duty, enlisted men were invariably selected for the task, not that 
 they were any better qualified, perhaps, for the dangerous under- 
 taking, but rather because commissioned officers, sometimes but 
 one with a company, could ill be spared from their command. 
 
 I have in mind two instances of enlisted men being called 
 upon to volunteer upon a mission of imminent danger no less 
 an undertaking than to enter the enemy's lines to obtain infor- 
 mation greatly desired by the commanding general. If captured 
 they knew the penalty would be a disgraceful death by a short 
 piece of hemp. 
 
 It was while the Ninth New Jersey Regiment, which had 
 been particularly active in the spring campaign of 1864, but ter- 
 ribly decimated in numbers in the series of battles in front of 
 Drewry's Bluff, seven miles below Richmond, that General But- 
 ler, commanding the Army of the James, asked for four enlisted 
 men from that command to enter the Confederate lines in front 
 of Petersburg, and act as scouts, or more properly speaking, as 
 "spies," on the enemy's movements. 
 
 Notwithstanding the desperate and dangerous character of 
 the service to be performed, a score of bright, brave, young fel- 
 lows promptly stepped forward with the same disposition and 
 devotion to country as actuated the gallant Captain Nathan 
 Hale, of blessed Revolutionary memory, to do the general's 
 bidding, or die, if need be, in the attempt. As but four men 
 were required, the following were selected: 
 
 Privates Marshall Howell and Daniel Johnson, of Company 
 H, and Privates James Van Buskirk and Robert H. White, of 
 Company B. 
 
 It was early in the evening of May 22 that these four hardy, 
 brave and venturesome young men quietly made their way out 
 of the Union works to enter, as it were, the open jaws of death. 
 Howell and Johnson traveled in one direction Van Buskirk 
 and White in another. The two former had proceeded but a 
 short distance, however, when they suddenly ran afoul of a 
 strong Confederate picket, and were fired upon, a volley of bul-
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 227 
 
 lets whistling about them, fairly taking away their breath. John- 
 son received a slight wound in one of his feet, Howell escaping 
 with the loss of his canteen, which was riddled and emptied of 
 its contents, causing him great suffering from thirst before he 
 succeeded in regaining the Union lines, which he did some thirty 
 hours afterward. Johnson, finding himself no longer able to 
 pursue his researches owing to his wound, crept into the trunk 
 of a hollow tree, fortunately near at hand, and, watching a favor- 
 able opportunity, succeeded in making his way back to camp, 
 reaching it just as day was breaking. 
 
 Howell, however, had better luck, and being anxious to 
 secure the reward the liberal-minded general was in the habit of 
 bestowing upon those who rendered especially valuable services, 
 hid in a heavy thicket until things became quiet, when he cau- 
 tiously continued on the course he had mapped out. This, of 
 course, was attended by the most imminent danger, as he was 
 likely to meet an armed Confederate at almost every step. Final- 
 ly gaining a position affording him excellent facilities for ob- 
 serving the enemy, he climbed a stout tree adorned with luxur- 
 iant foliage, and there ensconced himself. 
 
 During the long day that followed, Howell, from his covert, 
 saw a large force of men busily engaged in repairing the railroad, 
 recently torn up by our troops, and witnessed the moving forces 
 beyond Walthall, as well as the erection of new earthworks. 
 Making notes and rough sketches of what he saw and heard, 
 Howell, suffering intensely from thirst, owing to the loss of 
 water from his perforated canteen, when the shades of evening 
 fell, descended from his perch, his limbs being so stiffened that 
 he could hardly stand upon his feet, and started on his return 
 for camp, which he safely reached without further adventure wor- 
 thy of note, as the scorching sun came peeping over the bluffs 
 along the James River. 
 
 Howell promptly reported to General Butler, who warmly 
 greeted him, and commended his action by presenting him with 
 $500 in beautiful, crisp greenbacks, as a partial return for the 
 important service rendered. General Butler, always good to 
 those who were faithful, further rewarded Howell with a fur- 
 lough for a week, and promised to attend his wedding and dance 
 at it. 
 
 Howell is still living at his home in Pen Argyl, Pa. 
 
 James Van Buskirk, for many years, and at present, a resi- 
 dent of Bayonne, recently furnished me with the following inter- 
 esting narrative of the adventure he and White had on this 
 occasion :
 
 228 
 
 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 "White and I, who left the Union outpost together quite 
 early in the evening, heard nothing of the enemy until we had 
 traveled some considerable distance, when we became cognizant 
 of the near presence of Confederate pickets along the line of the 
 railroad near Port Walthall, with which ground I was quite 
 familiar, our regiment having fought there on the 6th and 7th 
 of May. The discovery of the enemy's pickets, who proved to 
 be cavalrymen, necessarily made us wary of our movements. 
 White and I crawled along upon the ground, foot by foot, and 
 succeeded, after considerable delay, in passing the first line. 
 Then we turned our course to the right, keeping about midway 
 between this line and a second one a few hundred yards in rear. 
 We traveled in this way, slowly and cautiously, for some three 
 miles, before we were able to pass around the left flank of the 
 position, to get in the rear of the Confederate battle line, 
 stretched out for a long distance. In the course of our difficult 
 peregrinations we ran suddenly upon General Beauregard's 
 headquarters, near which we lingered for some time, Micawber- 
 like, waiting for something to turn up that might prove of value 
 to General Butler. 
 
 "We had been ordered to return to camp before daylight, 
 and, finding that nothing more was likely to be gained by re- 
 maining where we were, we set out upon our return, making a 
 circuit farther to the rear, in the direction of Petersburg, whose 
 lights we could plainly distinguish. We gained the right bank 
 of the Appomattox before daylight, and secreted ourselves in 
 the woods to await the darkness of the following night, when 
 we hoped to cross and make our report. We were congratulat- 
 ing ourselves upon the good fortune attending our adventure, 
 when we were startled by the approach and entrance of a strong 
 regiment of North Carolina cavalry into the woods in which we 
 had sought refuge. When the command halted and the men dis- 
 mounted, our hopes were blasted, as we saw no way of evading 
 them. As the men quickly overran the woods, they espied us, 
 when we sprang up and sought safety in headlong flight. The 
 Confederates fired upon us and started in pursuit, speedily over- 
 taking us. We surrendered as gracefully as possible. 
 
 " 'What are you uns doin' heah ?' asked a young officer, 
 who had by this time reached us. 'We were out foraging and 
 became separated from our command,' I replied. 'I guess you 
 lie !' hissed the officer. 'Come, boys, let's hang the Yan- 
 kees.' Our situation now looked serious not at all rosy as in 
 a twinkling two or three cavalrymen came running up with ropes,
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 
 
 229 
 
 taken from their saddles. Quite a crowd had gathered by this 
 time, and 'Bob' and I began to feel nervous, especially as the 
 gang led us under a tree they considered well adapted to the 
 purpose they had in view, and put ropes about our necks. 
 
 " 'Hold on there !' shouted a man on the outskirts of the 
 crowd, and the next moment the colonel of the regiment I 
 think his name was Kennedy stood at our side. He ordered 
 the ropes taken from our necks, and questioned us sharply, but 
 I guess he didn't believe what we told him, as he placed us in 
 charge of four of his men, armed with sabre and carbine. Soon 
 after the surgeon of the regiment engaged us in conversation, 
 and ordered his servant to serve us with a repast, for which hos- 
 pitable act we thanked him. He inquired concerning some 
 friends in New Jersey whom 'Bob' happened to know, and said 
 he regretted it was not within his power to restore us our liberty. 
 About noon a three-hundred pound shell from one of our gun- 
 boats, exploding over our heads, so demoralized the cavalrymen 
 that they had no appetite for dinner, ready to be served. On the 
 contrary, they obeyed with alacrity the call of 'Boots and Sad- 
 dles,' and hastily fell back a mile or so, when our guard escorted 
 us over to Beauregard's headquarters, where we were thoroughly 
 searched, and, I might add, robbed, as they relieved us of 
 watches, caps, boots and haversacks. General Beauregard came 
 out of his tent and looked us over, questioning us sharply. He 
 was surrounded by his staff. He talked nice and sweet to us at 
 first, but, failing to get the information he earnestly sought, he 
 gave vent to his disappointment and anger by using a good many 
 cuss words, in French and English, at the same time. 'Bob' 
 had to laugh on hearing the general talk so fast, which increased 
 his rage. 'You were foraging, ah ! ah ! Veil, you can forage in 
 Petersburg!' whither we were at once sent. But the general 
 forgot to restore our boots and other things he had allowed his 
 guards to strip us of. We had to walk in our stockings. After 
 being confined in Petersburg seven days we were sent to Ander- 
 sonville, whose horrors we endured for many long and dreary 
 months."
 
 230 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 "TOM" McCORMICK'S CLEVER CAPTURE. 
 
 THOMAS McCORMICK, a private in my company, still 
 living, had many exciting experiences during his four 
 years' service. "Tom," as he was and is still familiarly 
 called, never shirked any kind of duty; in fact, his love of ad- 
 venture often impelled him to volunteer for the most dangerous 
 work. "Tom" wasn't by any means the handsomest man in the 
 regiment, General "Ben" Butler, our department commander, 
 being a beauty in comparison, but he always contrived to have 
 his clothing, accoutrements and rifle as clean and as bright as 
 they could be made. For this he was more frequently rewarded 
 with passes than any other man in our command. 
 
 The night of July 8, 1864, was serene, and along the long 
 line of earthworks in front of Petersburg scarcely a sound dis- 
 turbed the stillness, although 200,000 of the bravest men in the 
 world lay crouching behind the banks of dirt. This was owing 
 to a truce that had been declared in the afternoon by the men 
 who did the fighting, of which they were heartily tired. Whether 
 it was sanctioned by those higher up was not known. Suffice it 
 to say the murderous work was stopped in the afternoon when a 
 Christian-spirited "Johnny" raised a portion of his once white 
 shirt over the Confederate works, in front of the Second Corps, 
 and, finding it respected, sprang upon the embankment and 
 shouted to us: "We uns won't fire, if you uns won't!" Then he 
 bobbed down into his hole. Word was quickly passed along the 
 line to the three corps Second, Fifth and Eighteenth and for 
 the time being peace reigned. 
 
 There was no doubt about the honesty of purpose on the 
 part of the Confederates, as the moment firing stopped they 
 stacked their rifles, removed their equipments and stretched their 
 weary frames upon the ground to obtain sleep, of which all stood 
 much in need. There was now absolute, even painful quiet, and 
 some were silly enough to imagine the millenium had arrived ; 
 that the time had come when the lion and the lamb could lie 
 together in loving embrace. 
 
 A single shot, however, and how changed the scene ! All 
 was animation and intense excitement. In a moment the uner- 
 ring rifles were again leveled, the two opposing hosts a moment 
 ago so peaceful and happy now glaring in fierceness upon 
 each other. But, hold ! What is that ? A white flag borne along 
 upon the enemy's breastworks, followed by the challenge :
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 231 
 
 "Was anyone hurt by that shot?" 
 
 "No !" replied a score of Union soldiers ; "the bullet struck 
 this rail." 
 
 "Throw that rail this way !" shouted the gallant Confederate, 
 
 "and I'll make the fool who fired the shot carry it till 
 
 dark. You Yanks kept the bargain that was made, and we shall 
 do the same thing." 
 
 Uttering these brave words he emerged from his works, 
 approached our line, picked up the rail, and, returning with it to 
 his own line, compelled the unfortunate fellow to shoulder it 
 and march along on the breastworks till dark, he being the 
 cynosure of all eyes. 
 
 It was after the shades of night had fallen on this memor- 
 able day that "Tom" McCormick, with two companions, was 
 ordered to go out of our works to a point about midway between 
 the two lines. Reaching the coveted spot, which they did by 
 crawling upon the ground to escape the attention of the enemy, 
 the three men halted, examined the surroundings as well as 
 they were able by the pale and uncertain light of the stars, and 
 secreted themselves behind a huge stump, whose conformation 
 was admirably adapted for the purpose they had in view. It 
 gave them comparative security and afforded the three courage- 
 ous Union soldiers opportunities for listening to the "Johnnies,"' 
 as well as to make timely discovery of any movement on the 
 part of the Confederates. 
 
 McCormick and his companions frequently came near be- 
 traying themselves, owing to a disposition to laugh at the wit- 
 ticisms of the unsuspecting Confederates. But midnight came 
 at length, and with it all sounds ceased the stillness that fol- 
 lowed being painful. This caused McCormick to increase his 
 vigilance, which was at length rewarded by the discovery of 
 certain signs which pointed to some movement on the part of 
 the enemy. With his foresight, sharpened by years of war and 
 constant active service, he enjoined his companions not to move 
 nor fire a rifle without his command. The sky, thickly studded 1 
 with bright and beaming stars, rendered objects more or less 
 distinct, according to distance. 
 
 Hark ! Discovering three figures emerging silently and 
 cautiously from a Confederate embrasure, McCormick's heart 
 pulsates quickly as he sees them stealthily advancing toward 
 his covert. Keeping his two blue criss-cross eyes intently fas- 
 tened upon the party, slowly yet not the less surely approach- 
 ing, "Tom" and his tried companions clasped their trusty rifles
 
 232 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 more firmly, if possible, determined to thwart the designs of the 
 trio, or die in the attempt. As "Tom," actuated by motives of 
 self-preservation, thinking the party had advanced quite far 
 enough, was about to halt the Confederates, and demand their 
 surrender, they stopped of their own accord, and talked in low 
 monotones so long that the three Union pickets began to imag- 
 ine that the stump behind which they were crouching was their 
 objective point. "Tom" was at a loss for a plan of procedure. 
 It would have been easy for him and his comrades to drop the 
 unsuspecting Confederates in their tracks, but a disposition 
 which ever characterized McCormick to show fair play, saved 
 their lives. 
 
 The anxiety of the Union soldiers is only relieved when one 
 of the Southerners is seen to move off to the right his two 
 companions remaining where they had halted. Bidding his 
 "bunkies" to remain and watch the two Confederates, "Tom," 
 with the eye of an eagle, and the step of the feline creation, fol- 
 lowed the one who was making his way to the works of the 
 Union army, keeping as close as was consistent with the plan 
 he had in view. 
 
 He was familiar with every inch of the ground, which was 
 of immeasurable advantage to him. The "Johnny Reb," with the 
 utmost wariness, halted frequently to satisfy himself that his path 
 was clear, as well as to more clearly scan our works, which he 
 did with a large glass. This action convinced McCormick that 
 the game he was trailing was of no mean quality. Perhaps it 
 was Longstreet; maybe it was General Lee himself. Whoever 
 he should prove to be it was worth risking much to capture or 
 kill, and one or the other of these alternatives "Tom" was 
 now fully determined upon. 
 
 Without really knowing it, McCormick at length found him- 
 self almost beside the object of his solicitude and attention, and 
 on seeing the Confederate gazing upon him with basilisk eyes 
 (so they appeared to my friend), he felt that the tug-of-war was 
 at hand. 
 
 "Didn't I tell you not to follow me?" asked the Confederate. 
 "Go back to your post and wait as I ordered." These orders 
 convinced McCormick that he had been mistaken for one of the 
 Confederates who had come out of the works. The brave Yan- 
 kee picket regarded this revelation as a timely interposition of 
 Providence, and governed himself accordingly, but he paid no 
 heed to the command given him. This disobedience enraged 
 the Confederate, who came near betraying himself as he fairly
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 233 
 
 hissed with his closed teeth : "You hound ! Go back, 
 
 or I'll put a bullet through your thick skull." 
 
 McCormick, with imperturbability, and supreme indiffer- 
 ence to the formidable injunction, merely took an erect attitude 
 and placing the muzzle of his faithful Springfield rifle within a 
 yard of the Southerner's body, ordered him to face about and 
 march straight for the Union works. The Confederate's revolver 
 dropped from his nervous hand, his face turning pale as death. 
 A green and ashy hue, something beyond the tint of death itself, 
 seemed to spread over his apparently handsome features. His 
 eyes opened wide, and his jaw dropped, and for a moment 
 "Tom" thought he must have fallen to the ground, so terrible 
 was his agony of mind. 
 
 Seeing his utter helplessness, he accepted "Tom's" invita- 
 tion, and preceded him into our works, soon after being intro- 
 duced to Colonel James Stewart, Jr., of the Ninth. 
 
 Next morning "Tom" took his prisoner over to General 
 Butler's headquarters. He proved to be a major of engineers on 
 General Lee's staff. McCormick was warmly praised by the 
 general for his clever bit of work, and rewarded with a ten-dollar 
 greenback and a furlough for a week. The story of the capture 
 went quickly through our corps, "Tom" being regarded by all 
 as a brave and worthy soldier of the Union, in defense of which 
 he gave four of the best years of his life. 
 
 WAR RELICS GIVEN TO UNION COUNTY. 
 
 UPON the completion of Union County's half-million dol- 
 lar court house in 1906, the board of chosen freeholders 
 
 expressed a desire to possess and care for the many 
 Civil War relics gathered by the Elizabeth Veteran 
 Zouaves during the conflict. The Zouaves, desiring their preser- 
 vation, together with a beautiful silken banner given them in 
 San Francisco, gladly complied with the courteous request, and 
 the articles were deposited within handsome oak cases in the 
 rotunda of the magnificent building. In April, 1906, General 
 Drake, in presenting four flags to the county, said to the free- 
 holders, assembled in the court room : 
 Mr. Director and Gentlemen of the Board of Chosen 
 
 Freeholders : 
 
 To-day, on the eve of the forty-sixth anniversary of the 
 bursting forth of a fierce internecine war that lasted four terrible
 
 234 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 years, I have great satisfaction in delivering into your keeping 
 for preservation by Union County, whose official representatives 
 you are, these sheaves of the triumph of the Union cause. 
 
 These flags, now mere fragments, torn and battle-stained, 
 speak more eloquently than any words I am able to command. 
 
 When these precious relics were presented to me in the long 
 ago, while then somewhat torn and tattered, they were more 
 perfect in shape and brighter in color, but their display in the 
 streets of nearly every prominent American city, whither they 
 have been proudly borne by the Veteran Zouaves of this cityv 
 in whose custody I had temporarily placed them, and the desire 
 of many persons to secure pieces of the sacred woof, has reduced 
 their once splendid proportions to their present fragmentary 
 condition. 
 
 The shred of once white bunting, upon which is woven 
 "Kearny's Patch," as it was called (afterwards adopted as the 
 badge of the Sixth Army Corps), the first distinguishing emblem 
 ever designed or recognized by the gallant men of the Army of 
 the Potomac, described by an eminent writer as an organization 
 "inflexible of purpose, insensible to suffering, inured to fatigue, 
 and reckless of danger," was ever where the intrepid General 
 Philip Kearny's plume beckoned the way from Williamsburg to 
 Chantilly, where the precious life's blood of that hero of two 
 wars crimsoned the ground within the lines of a courageous and 
 generous-hearted enemy. 
 
 These remnants of the colors of the Fourth United States 
 Infantry waved in the forefront at Fredericksburg, Antietam, 
 Chancellorville, Gettysburg, and were with Grant when he swept 
 through the Wilderness. 
 
 The silken banner, a beautiful work of Oriental art, costing 
 more than one thousand dollars, was presented to the Veteran 
 Zouaves of this city by the George H. Thomas Veteran Guard 
 of San Francisco, California, while guests of that famous com- 
 mand in 1886. 
 
 These relics of the greatest fratricidal conflict the world 
 has ever known, beside which all other contests were pigmies 
 in comparison, which I to-day deliver into your custody, lent the 
 luster of their stars to the gloom of despair, as well as to joy in 
 the hour of victory, grandly borne as they were by brave hands 
 forward through smoke and carnage, planting them at last, after 
 four long and terrible years, on the edge of the spring line at 
 Appomattox. 
 
 Four years of the lives of our country's defenders are
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 235 
 
 wrought into their faded woof. These flags are the bond be- 
 tween the great army of the dead and the army of the living; 
 and they are precious to you, as to us, because they thus remind 
 us and reunite us with the named and unnamed heroes who fell 
 fighting under them for the humane principle of all right gov- 
 ernment that the will of the majority shall be supreme. 
 
 Before the Civil War, through which these shreds were car- 
 ried aloft to victory through bellowing cannon fire, few of our 
 people really realized the significance of our country's standard. 
 Yet every soldier who volunteered to uphold and defend it 
 knew full well its meaning. There was to them in the flag some- 
 thing more eloquent than the orator's tongue, more beautiful 
 than the painter's brush. Some present here this afternoon can 
 recall the time when the flag of this now bright and prosperous 
 land was not spoken of with the reverence which is now ac- 
 corded to it. But by and by that flag did come to mean some- 
 thing, and if to-day another struggle should come in which its 
 honor was threatened, hundreds of thousands of patriotic citizens 
 would rally to its support just as they did forty-six years ago, 
 when, assailed at Sumter, after passing through a fearful baptism 
 of fire for thirty-six hours, it went down in glory, its captors 
 reverently saluting it. 
 
 Our glorious banner signifies that there were thousands of 
 fathers and mothers, sisters and sweethearts, who were willing 
 to sacrifice everything that the heart holds dear to them for 
 that one symbol. Not only does it represent the sentiment of 
 patriotism, but it signifies liberty, equality and freedom to all. 
 And if the time should ever come when new enemies shall spring 
 up and try to overthrow it, then there will be people who will 
 stand in the breach ready to follow it and fight for it just as they 
 did in the awful days of 1861-1865. 
 
 I recall instances of unparalleled bravery exhibited in the 
 war for the Union, where no less than five men in one regiment, 
 who loved our flag above all things else, sacrificed their lives, 
 one after another, in defending our beautiful and priceless 
 standard from the foe. It was instances of this character that 
 added luster to the American soldier, and established for him a 
 reputation for courage and intrepidity never attained by any 
 other. It was because of this inborn heroism that our unsullied 
 flag now floats upon honestly-gained but useless and costly pos- 
 sessions in a far-off land, however much we may lament the fact, 
 and it is because of this that America's glorious sun of peace is 
 now in the zenith, high up under the dome of the Union, pre-
 
 236 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 served by the sacrifices of its gallant defenders, its refulgent rays 
 illuminating a happy and prosperous land, with but one flag, 
 from whose ethereal blue no star was lost in Disunion's eternal 
 night of political darkness. 
 
 These bullet-scarred and stained shreds of silk and bunting 
 in themselves are of little intrinsic worth. They are now so frail 
 that if unfolded the gentlest breeze would scatter their frag- 
 ments. What gives them a priceless value is because of the 
 sacrifices and associations that cluster around them. But chiefly 
 are they precious to you and to all of us because they are the 
 emblems of nationality the symbols of governmental power. 
 Mute though they be, they appeal to us in language more forci- 
 ble than human utterance. 
 
 Each rent and shred of these banners has a voice which 
 to-day says to us, and to all men, although it cost privation and 
 suffering, exposure and even death itself, come what may, this 
 government must be maintained in its integrity, whether its 
 assailants come from without or within, though millions of lives 
 and billions of treasure be the sacrifice, the Union shall be 
 preserved. 
 
 An ancient history relates that the Romans erected monu- 
 ments upon hills to celebrate the deeds of their heroes, and that 
 the parents of Roman youth, in bidding them study the inscrip- 
 tions carved in enduring marble, told that they, too, would have 
 monuments erected to their memory, and the records of their 
 lives carved upon them if they emulated the virtues and practices 
 of those who have gone before. 
 
 And so, Mr. Director and gentlemen, I trust will these tat- 
 tered flags, now nearly half a century old, be an inspiration to 
 those who come after us an incentive for all to love our coun- 
 try, and manfully defend its beneficent institutions. 
 
 UNDER TWO FLAGS. 
 
 ON a farm near Castile San Juan, Italy, early in the year 
 1835, Camilla Bragga, for many years a highly respected 
 citizen of Elizabeth, first saw the light of day. For 
 more than thirty years he has been a faithful and popular mem- 
 ber of the Veteran Zouaves, and the other evening at a gather- 
 ing of the command, he was induced to tell some of his experi- 
 ences in the Italian (or Sardinian) and American volunteer 
 armies.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 237 
 
 With a spirit for adventure rather than any desire to take 
 part in the Crimean war against the Russians, at the age of 
 twenty years he enlisted in the tenth company, Third Regi- 
 ment, Italian Legion, under the gallant General Delia Mar- 
 mora, and took part in all the operations of that command about 
 Sebastopol. 
 
 "It was on a beautiful Sunday in 1855, after a terrific bom- 
 bardment of three days and nights," said Sergeant Bragga, 
 "that we discovered Sebastopol to be on fire, and the Russians in 
 full retreat. The tremendous explosions which shook the earth 
 were like so many earthquakes. Wandering fires gleamed 
 through the streets and outskirts of the town, point after point 
 becoming alight, making a wierd spectacle; the flames shone 
 out of the windows of the houses ; rows of mansions caught and 
 were rapidly consumed, and ere daybreak next morning the town 
 of Sebastopol, the fine and stately mistress of the Euxine, on 
 which we had so long and often turned wistful and longing 
 eyes, was in a consuming blaze from the glittering sea to the 
 dockyard. During the night Fort Alexander blew up with a 
 stupendous crash that made the very earth reel. Numerous 
 explosions followed in quick succession at sunrise, including that 
 of the Redan, under whose debris was buried many of both 
 armies. 
 
 "When Fort Alexander and the grand magazine blew up 
 the rush of black smoke, of gray and white vapor, of masses of 
 stone, beams, timber, masonry, into the air was appalling, be- 
 side which, I might say, the mine explosion in front of Peters- 
 burg in the summer of 1864, which many of us saw, was insigni- 
 ficant. Following came an awful roar of a great bombardment ; 
 it was a magazine of shells blown high in the air, and exploding 
 like some gigantic pyrotechnic display in the sky, the effect of 
 the innumerable flashes of fire twirling high up in the column of 
 dark smoke over the long-doomed town, and then changing as 
 rapidly into as many balls of white smoke like little clouds. 
 
 "All this time the Russians were marching with sullen tramp 
 across the bridge, and boats were carrying off materials from 
 the town, or bearing men to the south side to complete the work 
 of destruction and renew the fires of hidden mines, or light up 
 untouched houses. The Russians had the same determination 
 to destroy Sebastopol as their fathers had when they applied 
 the torch to Moscow, which ruined Napoleon and ultimately 
 destroyed his great army. 
 
 "As soon as it became light we began to steal from our
 
 238 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 trenches into the burning town, undismayed by the roaring 
 flames, by the fire of a lurking enemy, or the shots which now 
 and then came from their cannon, to prevent straggling and 
 prevent us from extinguishing the flames. But little things like 
 that didn't disturb us or stop our advance, as on we went 
 French and Italians, red breeches and blue breeches, fez and kepi, 
 side by side until finally reaching the houses, we entered to 
 secure plunder the Russian relics we were fortunate enough to 
 obtain finding a ready and profitable market in camp. 
 
 "The scenes I beheld after entering the Malakoff were awful, 
 beyond my powers to describe, and my heart sank as I gazed 
 upon the devastation and resulting carnage. I shall never recall 
 the memory of Malakoff with any but feelings of loathing and 
 horror; for round about me lay thousands of dead Russians. 
 Many of the wounded lay there, and their low, dull moans of 
 mortal agony struck with terrible distinctness upon my young 
 years ; or, worse still, the hoarse, gurgling cry and vehement 
 struggles of those who were convulsed before death relieved 
 them of suffering. With the fall of the Malakoff fell Sebastopol. 
 In a bomb proof I saw a music book with a woman's name in it, 
 and a canary bird and a vase of flowers outside the entrance." 
 
 After relighting a cigar, Sergeant Bragga told of his com- 
 ing to this country, of his settlement in Elizabeth immediately 
 after his discharge from the Italian army, of his enlistment in the 
 Forty-eighth New York Volunteers, and of his three years' ser- 
 vice in the Union army. At the battle of Deep Bottom, Va., 
 August 16, 1864, Sergeant Bragga fell desperately wounded, 
 shot through the side and arm, and, unable to escape, became 
 a prisoner of war, and was conveyed to Libby Prison in Rich- 
 mond. 
 
 As he was being borne in a semi-conscious state into the 
 dingy-looking building he overheard a Confederate soldier, 
 standing guard at the door of the hospital, remark in the Italian 
 
 language: "Here's another Yankee for us to plant!" 
 
 Bragga, weak from the loss of blood, suffering intense pains, 
 and half asleep, opened his weary eyes on hearing the rude 
 words, and retorted hotly in the same language: "You'll be 
 planted first if you go to the front, where you ought to be, you 
 coward !" 
 
 During the evening, the Italian Confederate, having been 
 relieved from duty, with a view of learning more about his plucky 
 fellow-countryman, entered the hospital and making his way to 
 the spot where Bragga was lying uncomfortably on the floor, he
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 239 
 
 kneeled down and peering intently into his face, suddenly over- 
 come by emotion, became violently agitated. Seizing Bragga's 
 hand he pathetically exclaimed : "Bragga, my dear Camilla, don't 
 you remember me Guiseppe Montazzi your bunkie in the 
 Sardinian Legion ? Speak, I adjure you, and forgive me for not 
 recognizing you as you were brought in here!" 
 
 The agitated Italian Confederate, on finding himself recog- 
 nized by his former companion-in-arms, gave vent to the great 
 joy he felt, copious tears coursing down his cheeks, attesting 
 relief of mind for the insult he had given a helpless and suffering 
 prisoner of war. 
 
 The friendship that had existed between these two soldiers, 
 now bitterly arrayed against each other, since early boyhood, 
 thus bloomed anew in a vile prison far from the land of their 
 nativity. No surveyed chart, no national boundary line, no 
 rugged mountain, no wide sea put a limit to the growth of 
 friendship. Wherever it is watered by the dews of affection 
 and kindness, there you may be sure to find it. Its all-powerful 
 influence hovers o'er contending armies and unites the deadliest 
 foes in the closest bonds of sympathy. Friendship and comrade- 
 ship can only be found to bloom in the soil of a noble and self- 
 sacrificing heart ; there it has a perennial summer, a never-ending 
 season of felicity and joy to its happy possessor, casting a thou- 
 sand rays of love and hope to all around, as it did in the case of 
 my imprisoned comrade. 
 
 And thus, in the United States, during a fearful internecine 
 war, these two Italian soldiers, serving under different flags, and 
 who, side by side, had stormed Russian embattlements, after 
 years of separation, found themselves reunited under strange 
 and painful circumstances. 
 
 I will leave the reader to imagine, if possible, the joy these 
 two warriors experienced on this occasion, and will bring my 
 story to a close by stating that the Italian-Confederate did much 
 to alleviate his former comrade's condition, relieving his dis- 
 tresses by many kind acts, and finally induced the Confederate 
 surgeon in charge of the hospital to secure a speedy special 
 exchange for his comrade of old.
 
 240 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 JERSEY BATTERY PREVENTED RIOT. 
 
 DURING the war for the Union the young men of the 
 North, serving in the army and navy, had two deter- 
 mined foes one constantly in their front, the brave 
 Southern soldier the other nestled at home among their friends, 
 ever ready to use the assassin's knife in the dark. The latter, 
 too cowardly to prove their convictions on the battle-field, re- 
 mained at home or jumped over into Canada to escape military 
 service. They were of the snake species, and commonly called 
 "Copperheads." Often and again have I heard my comrades 
 express the fervent wish that they might be ordered North to 
 wipe out the nest of venomous creatures who annoyed our 
 friends by giving utterance to Southern sentiments. 
 
 During the great struggle for the preservation of the Union 
 many incidents relating to army life never "got into the papers," 
 and that part of our country's history is only treasured by the 
 boys who took an active part in the contest. As it is not gener- 
 ally known that the Fourth New Jersey Battery of Light Artil- 
 lery, commanded at the time by Lieutenant James B. Morris, a 
 Trenton compositor, and one of the most promising and brilliant 
 young soldiers in the army, was detached from the Army of the 
 James early in November, 1864, and despatched on a steamer to 
 New York City, to be in readiness to assist in quelling any dis- 
 order that the adherents of the South and their political ally, 
 George B. McClellan, Democratic candidate for President 
 against Abraham Lincoln, might cause on election day, in order 
 to show their sympathy for the Southern cause, I will relate the 
 circumstance, as told by one of the boys, and show that to this 
 gallant body of men much credit is due for the services rendered 
 by the artillerymen on that occasion. 
 
 "It was about 10 o'clock on the night of November 2, 1864, 
 while occupying a dangerous position near Fort Harrison, that 
 Lieutenant Morris roused us from the first sleep we had had in 
 several nights, and ordered us to pack up quickly, and be very 
 quiet about it. In less than two hours afterward we were on 
 the move in Egyptian darkness, no lights being allowed, and 
 not a star shining owing to a heavy rainstorm which prevailed. 
 
 "Daylight found us about a mile from Bermuda Hundred 
 our clothing saturated and our stomachs empty. Just how we 
 managed to reach that point was a mystery to all except the gal- 
 lant Morris, who rode at our head. In the Stygian darkness
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 241 
 
 we were compelled to make our way through many rough places, 
 and through timber sections where the axles of our guns and 
 caissons blazed the trees on either side. The elements rain 
 and wind facilitated our march ; that is, prevented the enemy 
 from hearing the movement, which, under other conditions of 
 atmosphere, might have been revealed to them, and made things 
 more unpleasant for us. 
 
 "Exposed to all the fury of the storm we were compelled to 
 remain in the woods until 12 o'clock the following night, when 
 we marched to the dock at Bermuda Hundred and soon stowed 
 ourselves and traps on a transport, falling asleep at once. We 
 had a pleasant sail, but no knowledge of our destination until 
 we passed through the Narrows, and entered New York Bay, 
 soon after tying up at the Atlantic docks at Brooklyn. We won- 
 dered what it all meant, and then we learned that we were likely 
 to have a chance at the same fellows who rioted in New York 
 City the previous year those same fellows whom Governor 
 Horatio Seymour called his 'friends.' 
 
 "During the night of November 7 our battery was put on 
 board the ferryboat Peconic, and bright and early the next 
 morning we were ready to land anywhere in the city of New 
 York and open fire in just one minute, which we would very 
 much have liked to do had there been any disorder among those 
 Democratic patriots. We remained on the Peconic for ninety-six 
 hours, with no chance to show Horatio's 'friends' what Jersey 
 artillerists could do in the way of handling the iron dogs of war. 
 
 "Bluff old General 'Ben' Butler was with us, too, and 15,000 
 brave boys in blue to back him. He wouldn't have hesitated an 
 instant about sweeping New York's streets if occasion had 
 arisen. Our presence saved the town from terrible punishment. 
 The would-be rioters knew we were there for business, and that 
 we would have performed in a manner creditable to our com- 
 mand." 
 
 YOUNG LIEUTENANT SAVED THE ARMY. 
 
 THE state of New Jersey was never represented on the battle- 
 fields of the American republic more worthily, or by a 
 more intelligent, skilful or brilliant soldier than Major 
 Rufus King. 
 
 It was during the inglorious retreat of the Army of the 
 Potomac from in front of Richmond to Harrison's Landing on 
 the James River, in 1862, that Major King, then a first lieu-
 
 242 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 tenant in the Fourth United States Artillery, had an opportunity 
 to show the stuff of which heroes are made. 
 
 It was solely through Lieutenant King's well-directed and 
 herculean efforts that the Army of the Potomac, sorely pressed 
 by a jubilant and aggressive enemy, was saved from the gravest 
 disaster, if not capture, and for his brilliant services on this occa- 
 sion, meriting the highest commendation of his superior officers, 
 I subsequently had the pleasure and honor of securing for him a 
 Congressional Medal of Honor, through the courtesy of my old 
 companion-in-arms, the late United States Senator William J. 
 Sewell, who was familiar with Lieutenant King's military history. 
 
 The retreat of the Army of the Potomac from the very door 
 of the Confederate capital, to which it had been successfully led 
 by Hooker, Kearny and Hancock, only to be turned back by Mc- 
 Clellan, always in a place of safety in the rear, was covered by 
 Batteries A and C, Fourth United States Artillery, commanded 
 by Captain George Hazard, a gallant veteran of the Mexican War, 
 and Richardson's division of Sumner's Corps. This small force 
 was closely and fiercely pursued from Savage Station to White 
 Oak Swamp, where it narrowly escaped capture by Stonewall 
 Jackson's famous and ever-dreaded command. The fighting be- 
 tween these points had been constant, terrible, and with unexam- 
 pled implacability. 
 
 When the division and batteries reached the river running 
 through the swamp early on the morning of June 30, it was dis- 
 covered with dismay that the bridge over which the commands 
 expected to pass had been burned during the night by our own 
 army after gaining the other side, the commander of the last 
 corps crossing the structure being under the impression that his 
 was the last force in the disordered column. 
 
 General Richardson, on finally effecting a crossing of his 
 command to the opposite side of the stream, a task of great diffi- 
 culty, owing to the deadly fire of the exultant Confederates, who 
 had been confident of capturing the force, ordered Captain 
 Hazard's two batteries, consisting of eight guns and about 175 
 men, to take position on the brow of a hill overlooking the 
 swamp, and to prevent the enemy from crossing. Ten minutes 
 after this the noble Hazard, mortally wounded, after telling Lieu- 
 tenant King to take command of the artillery, and "fight for- 
 ever," was carried from the field. 
 
 Lieutenant King, appointed to the regular artillery from 
 civil life shortly after the outbreak of the war, had thoroughly 
 mastered his new profession, and was abundantly qualified for
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 243 
 
 the responsible duties thus suddenly thrown upon him, and he 
 more than fulfilled the expectations of his men, all of whom had, 
 long since, learned to love him for his noble qualities of heart 
 and mind. 
 
 Lieutenant King had scarcely assumed command when he 
 found himself ruthlessly and violently assailed by some thirty 
 pieces of artillery which Stonewall Jackson had concentrated in 
 an advantageous position, and from which he felt sure he would 
 be able to dislodge the small band of Unionists, and enable him 
 to build a bridge, effect a crossing, render more complete the 
 defeat of McClellan's illy-managed forces, and secure immense 
 stores on the opposite bank, which he believed had been aban- 
 doned by the Union army in its flight. 
 
 The unremitting fire from the Confederate batteries was 
 frightful, but King's guns were so accurate in their range and 
 so destructive in their operation that it soon became impossible 
 for the enemy's engineers and bridge builders to further pursue 
 their dangerous calling, which they reluctantly abandoned. The 
 fire from Jackson's artillery at one time was so heavy and 
 destructive that King's cannoneers and drivers were shot down, 
 and horses killed in such numbers that some of the non-com- 
 missioned officers, fearing to lose one of their pet pieces, took it 
 upon themselves to withdraw it. Lieutenant King, although 
 very busy in looking after his guns, men and horses, happening 
 to see the men going to the rear with the piece, madly galloped 
 in pursuit, and in a towering rage, compelled the men to return 
 the gun to the firing line, which they immediately did. Had they 
 hesitated an instant, King would have emptied his big seven- 
 shooter into as many breasts. 
 
 Throughout that terribly hot and live-long day, and far into 
 the sultry night, Lieutenant King and his brave fellows, keenly 
 feeling their awful responsibility, a matter wherein the safety of 
 the Army of the Potomac, perhaps of the Nation itself, was at 
 stake, although greatly fatigued by exhausting labors, continued 
 to work their death-dealing instruments, pouring destruction 
 into the ranks of the foe, thus keeping it well at bay. 
 
 It was only when darkness robed the earth that they were 
 enabled to rest from their awful work. They were worn out with 
 fatigue; they were hungry, and greatly felt the want of sleep. 
 While some were enamored of glory, and so flushed with the 
 hope of continued success, they were absolutely incapable of 
 repose. As they passed the wakeful hours, and the silence and 
 darkness of midnight stole upon them, they gave themselves up
 
 244 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 to profound meditation. They reflected on the intense excite- 
 ments and manifold dangers through which they had passed, and 
 mused on the result achieved in checking the onward course of 
 the invincible Stonewall Jackson, who had caused fearful havoc 
 in the Union ranks. They compared the stillness of the night 
 with the tumult of the previous days and what might follow on 
 the morrow. They fancied that Death was still hovering over 
 their decimated command, but the Cimmerian hue prevented 
 them from distinguishing who would be the unhappy victims. 
 They then thought of their parents and other loved ones at 
 home, and the uncertainty whether they would ever see these 
 beloved ones again plunged the brave artillerymen and their 
 heroic, intrepid commander into the deepest melancholy. 
 
 Frequently in the silence of that long and never-to-be-for- 
 gotten night, Lieutenant King and his men were startled by the 
 report of cannon, which, passing over the thick surrounding for- 
 ests, sounded in a peculiarly mournful and horrible manner. The 
 unexpected sound, repeated by the echoes of the valley, was 
 lengthened into dismal reverberations, and often, when the 
 harassed powers of my gallant friend and his men were sinking 
 into calm and refreshing repose, suddenly roused them, causing 
 them to hastily and fearfully run to the guns, with no other 
 thought than that "Old Jack," who, when not praying, was al- 
 ways fighting, was making another attempt to cross the stream. 
 
 In the midst of all these dangers and excitements Lieu- 
 tenant King, in battle ubiquitous, preserved a calm and unruf- 
 fled countenance. Keenly sensible of the great responsibility 
 placed upon his young but broad shoulders, he was always where 
 danger was thickest, but cheerful in disposition, he retained his 
 presence of mind though surrounded by the most urgent dangers, 
 offering in his own handsome and soldierly person the most 
 perfect model of military discipline. 
 
 But suddenly, in the early hours of the morning, Lieutenant 
 King, who had passed the long and dreary hours of the night in 
 ministering to his wounded, and in burying his dead braves, 
 received orders to retire and follow in the footsteps of the army, 
 which, by this time, had reached a place of comparative safety. 
 His signal to limber up was instantly obeyed, his men eagerly 
 rushing to their different sections. All passed in order noise- 
 lessly to the rear, the equally jaded and exhausted Confederates, 
 now wrapped in sleep, being none the wiser for the clever move- 
 ment for several hours afterward. Major King had performed 
 his task. He had saved the Army of the Potomac.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 245 
 
 But there will be no more pomp and circumstance of war 
 for Major King. Never again will loud-mouthed cannon con- 
 front or speak to him no blast of bugle or drum-beat summon 
 him to ensanguined fields. No more will he hear the screaming 
 shell no more feel the surgeon's knife. Enshrined in the hearts 
 of his countrymen the memory of Major King will ever be 
 cherished, and around the festive boards of his companions-in- 
 arms will be recalled his excellencies, with sighs that he has 
 crossed the Silent River. 
 
 FEARFUL SCENES AT HATTERAS. 
 
 WHILE aware that soldiers are ill qualified to narrate 
 stories of the seas, a province more properly belonging 
 to those who have a fondness for going down in ships 
 that pass in the day as well as by night, I hesitate in attempting 
 to tell of exciting experiences myself and 1,200 comrades had 
 on shipboard during a fierce gale at Hatteras, the most treacher- 
 ous and dangerous part of our coast, in January, 1862. 
 
 The Ninth New Jersey Regiment formed a part of the 
 Burnside expedition seven companies embarking on the ship 
 Ann E. Thompson, and five on the brig Dragoon. Our fleet, 
 the largest up to this time that had ever been assembled in 
 American waters, after leaving Fortress Monroe, had a rough 
 time in going down the coast in the face of a stout gale and 
 adverse winds. We had a disagreeable time all the afternoon, 
 and during the night, the storm raging with increasing violence, 
 the cold winds howling fiercely as they hurled the tempestuous 
 waters mountain high, tossing our vessels in a manner adapted 
 to excite the fears of the most intrepid. Many of the men, by 
 the violent motion of the ships, were thrown out of their bunks, 
 some sustaining bodily injury. Sleep was impossible, but the 
 men of the Ninth survived the manifold horrors of the night, 
 hailing with joy the dawn of another day. 
 
 Shortly after noon we saw a long, low, narrow strip of white 
 sand over our starboard bow, and an hour or two after anchored 
 a mile or so this side of the inlet to Pamlico Sound. The two 
 vessels bearing the Ninth Regiment anchored near each other, 
 both displaying signals of distress by floating flags with the 
 Union down. Near us was a large side-wheel steamer immersed 
 in the constantly rolling breakers, fast going to pieces. The 
 angry waves dashed completely over it with terrific force. While
 
 246 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 we knew it had been wrecked, we were in ignorance of the fate 
 of those who, a few hours previous, had guided the stately vessel 
 within sight of its destination, only to witness its destruction on a 
 bleak and inhospitable coast. 
 
 On the following day, the winds having moderated, and the 
 sea somewhat calmed, Colonel Allen, Lieutenant-Colonel Heck- 
 man, Surgeon Weller and Adjutant Zabriskie proceeded in a 
 small boat from the ship Ann E. Thompson to General Burn- 
 side's headquarter boat in the harbor, to report the arrival of 
 the command, and to ask assistance in getting our two vessels 
 into the haven of security. Concluding their business, the 
 colonel and his staff started upon the return trip, being speedily 
 and skilfully rowed by a vigorous crew, commanded by the 
 second mate. 
 
 All went as desired until the heavy breakers were reached 
 at the outlet to the inlet, when suddenly, without a moment's 
 warning, a huge wave rose out of the sea, bursting over the bow, 
 sweeping to the stern, unshipping the oars, and nearly swamp- 
 ing the staunch little craft. Despite the unlooked-for mishap, 
 officers and crew retained presence of mind, maintaining the 
 uprightness of the boat, nearly half filled with water. But while 
 congratulating themselves on their good luck, a second and 
 larger breaker overwhelmed them, instantly swamping the heavi- 
 ly-laden boat, and precipitating the occupants into the foaming 
 sea. An agonizing scene followed. 
 
 Colonel Heckman and Adjutant Zabriskie, powerful and 
 expert swimmers, with a reckless disregard for their own preser- 
 vation, nobly went to the assistance of Colonel Allen and Sur- 
 geon Weller, who were battling in the angry surf, but owing to 
 the exceeding roughness of the waters and their own exhaustion 
 were compelled to leave them to their fate. The white foam 
 surged about them, while the spray often engulfed them, the 
 thunder of the dashing surge constantly sounding to them like 
 the awful knell that the enraged ocean was singing for the vic- 
 tims it was seeking to entomb. Colonel Allen, although weigh- 
 ing nearly three hundred pounds, with much of life's span already 
 behind him, was a good swimmer, but being encumbered with 
 a heavy rubber coat over a tight-fitting uniform, soon be- 
 came exhausted by the great efforts he made to save himself, 
 and finding it hopeless to further contend with the wild and over- 
 powering waves, being completely exhausted with his prolonged 
 efforts, and nature fast sinking in the useless conflict, said to the 
 ever-intrepid Heckman and gallant Zabriskie, "I can not stand
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 247. 
 
 this much longer take care of yourselves ; may heaven bless you 
 both !" abandoned himself to a cruel fate and was seen no more 
 by his still struggling companions, who, although ready to meet 
 death, felt it hard to die without a determined struggle. 
 
 Meantime the sailors had made strenuous efforts to right the 
 up-turned boat, but this they failed to accomplish, the heavy 
 swells bobbing it about like a cork. Colonel Heckman and the 
 adjutant, by dint of great exertion, finally succeeded in reaching; 
 the over-turned boat, which was fast drifting to sea on an out- 
 going tide, and managing to raise a piece of apparel tied to an 
 oar they had succeeded in securing, soon after attracted attention 
 from the crew of the steamer Patuxent, which went promptly to 
 their rescue. Thus were saved these two from entombment at 
 the ocean's bottom. They were preserved for years of gallant 
 service to the country for which they were willing, and in which 
 they did suffer much e'er the great war ended the former en- 
 during months of captivity at my side in various prison pens, 
 the latter giving his noble and promising young life while fiercely 
 battling to enter Richmond, seven miles below that stronghold, 
 in May, 1864. 
 
 The bodies of Colonel Allen, Surgeon Weller, and the mate 
 of the ship (who was also drowned), fortunately were recovered 
 late in the afternoon, and next day, enwrapped in canvas, com- 
 pletely covered with tar and sand, temporarily interred on Hat- 
 teras' cheerless bank, where the wild waves chanted solemn re- 
 quiems, Company B being entrusted with paying the last sad 
 rites to the memory of departed worth. 
 
 Two weeks later the remains of our officers were exhumed 
 and placed on the steamer Suwanee in charge of the Ninth's 
 chaplain, who was detailed to accompany the bodies to New 
 Jersey. Had not the regiment been on the eve of battle, in 
 which every man would be needed, it is probable a suitable de- 
 tachment would have been sent along. A few days afterward the 
 remains of Colonel Allen and Surgeon Weller, encased in hand- 
 some caskets, reached Trenton, and were escorted to the State- 
 House. State Street, through which the mournful cortege a; 
 regiment of militia passed with measured tread and saddening 
 strains, was lined with people. The caskets, draped with Ameri- 
 can flags, were carried into the Senate Chamber, where they 
 were viewed by thousands of sorrowing citizens.
 
 248 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 THE YOUNGEST SOLDIER. 
 
 FOR many years past, among survivors of the Civil War, the 
 question as to who was the youngest soldier in the Union 
 Army has been mooted, but it seems no more clearly set- 
 tled than before. I have always believed, however, that "Gus" 
 Schurman, who blacked boots at three cents a shine in the City 
 Hall Park, New York, just before the war broke out, was the 
 youngest member of the great Union Army. 
 
 In June, 1861, burning with a desire to serve his country, 
 although but ten years old, he enlisted in the Fortieth New York 
 (Mozart) Regiment as a drummer, in which line of music he 
 was considered a prodigy. His father, a German, was a bugler 
 in this command, and through his influence "Gus" was mustered 
 into the service. 
 
 At Harrison's Landing, after the disastrous campaign in the 
 early summer of 1862, General McClellan, who had a greater 
 partiality for "reviews" than fighting the enemy, set a day for 
 an elaborate ceremony, and General Philip Kearny called for a 
 drummer boy to serve as his orderly. Young Schurman was for- 
 tunate in securing the coveted detail, and never regretted the 
 honor conferred upon him. When the general (Kearny) pre- 
 sented him with a silver-plated bugle, and bade him mount a large 
 white mare, known as "Babe," over whose broad back he could 
 scarcely stretch his short legs, the breath nearly left his body. 
 His previous horse-exercise had been limited to riding a sutler's 
 horse to water. During the manoeuvres, General Kearny, a superb 
 horseman, and always seated as firmly as a centaur, followed by 
 his staff, galloped over a rough field broken by a formidable 
 ravine. The general, mounted as usual on his powerful gray 
 charger "Moscow," after taking this with a mighty bound, looked 
 around with a merry twinkle to see if his aides could do likewise, 
 but dismayed at the jump which "Moscow" had made, they 
 hunted for an easier and safer crossing. The little drummer alone 
 followed the intrepid general. "Babe," a stable mate of Kearny's 
 horse, which he bestrode, was coming like a whirlwind, and his 
 diminutive rider might as well have attempted to stop a railroad 
 train as to check the headlong course of the excited animal. On, 
 on came the great white charger, ears back, red nostrils all wide, 
 and eyes like coals of fire, to the edge of the precipice, when, ris- 
 ing on her powerful haunches, as if shot from a catapault, she
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 249 
 
 leaped high into the air as though to leave the earth forever, and 
 safely landed on the other side, her light burden pale and almost 
 senseless with the sensation. 
 
 The chivalric Kearny, delighted with the clever act of his 
 subordinate, commended him, and declared he must consider 
 himself as his permanent orderly. From that hour until the 
 lamented but glorious death of the general at Chantilly, young 
 Schurman was ever at his side. Often in battle General Kearny 
 used the back of his little bugler as a writing desk, and if at any 
 time he trembled at the surrounding dangers, the general was 
 sure to roundly curse him. 
 
 One day the president, Mrs. Lincoln" and "Tad," their 
 youngest son, then ten years old, visited the army at Belle 
 Plains, and when "Tad" saw the little bugler he found his 
 "affinity." "As I look back," said Mr. Schurman to the writer 
 a few years ago, "I can see that I must have been an object of 
 envy to 'Tad,' as by that time I had become quite a horseman, 
 could blow a bugle, beat a drum, and swagger about like the 
 bigger ones. The men, with whom I was somewhat of a favorite, 
 had presented me with a mustang that had formerly been rid- 
 den by General Mosby, the guerrilla chieftain, and on him I 
 cavorted about the field until 'Tad' could stand it no longer, 
 and persuaded a cavalryman to lend him his horse to ride. Final- 
 ly, the president and Mrs. Lincoln being ready to return to 
 Washington, called 'Tad,' and bade him take leave of me. 
 
 " 'Mother/ says 'Tad/ 'I won't go home unless 'Gus' (as 
 he already called me) can go along.' 
 
 " 'Oh, no/ interposed the president ; 'that won't do. This 
 lad is a soldier, and must remain here and attend to his duties.' 
 
 " 'I don't care, pop/ responded 'Tad' ; 'I want him to 
 go home with me and teach me to ride and blow the bugle.' 
 
 "This appeal, and the tears which suffused his eyes, was too 
 much for the tender heart of our president, who ever loved 
 ^Tad' as the apple of his eye, and to relieve the great and good 
 man from embarrassment General Kearny said: 'Mr. Presi- 
 dent, if you desire, the bugler may accompany you. I will give 
 "him a furlough.' 
 
 " 'Tad, greatly overjoyed, thanked the general, while I re- 
 turned to my tent and secured my knapsack. I rode to Wash- 
 ington in the president's carriage, and that night slept serenely 
 in the guests' chamber at the White House. 'Tad' slept in a 
 crib alongside his parents' bed. The contrast of my new quar- 
 ters with my humble and sometimes uncomfortable lodgings of
 
 250 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 the past year was so overwhelming that even now the thought 
 of the beautiful chamber I occupied awes me. 
 
 " 'Tad' was a generous-hearted, sweet-tempered lad, with 
 an adventurous and inventive turn of mind. I well remember 
 one Sunday afternoon when the rain kept us in doors, that 
 'Tad's' budding genius took a particularly distinctive turn, when, 
 with his little hatchet perhaps the same one used by young 
 George Washington he hacked at various pieces of furniture, 
 and finally sawed away the banisters of the main stairway. 
 When this was reported to the president, he called 'Tad' and my- 
 self into his room and entertained us with a story about the 
 Black Hawk war, and showed us the sword he carried in that 
 campaign as captain of a company of volunteers. He did not 
 allude to our vandalism. 
 
 ' 'Tad' and I owned Washington for several weeks, doing 
 pretty much as we pleased. We frequently attended theatres, 
 having carte blanche, and many a time he and I sat in the theatre 
 box in which the president in 1865 lost his life. 
 
 "One night at Grove's Theatre there was a play called the 
 'Marble Heart,' in which a dark, handsome man, with brilliant 
 eyes, took the leading part. Spellbound with the acting, 'Tad' 
 and I looked up his name on the program. 'I'd like to meet that 
 actor/ said 'Tad.' 'He makes you thrill.' So, after the second 
 act, we went back of the stage, and were taken to the dressing- 
 room of J. Wilkes Booth. 
 
 " 'This is President Lincoln's son,' said the stage manager, 
 and the actor gave us each a hand with a captivating smile. He 
 continued his make-up, asking us how we liked the play, and 
 we telling him the parts we most admired. On leaving he handed 
 us each a rose from a bunch that had been presented him over 
 the footlights." 
 
 My comrade's life at the White House ended as abruptly as 
 it began. With the aid of Mrs. Lincoln the two boys arranged 
 an entertainment for the benefit of the hospitals, the price of 
 admission being fixed at ten cents. The audience was chiefly 
 composed of soldiers. Early in the evening, just after the presi- 
 dent had entered the hall, a mud-stained courier arrived from 
 the front, telling of General Lee's invasion of Pennsylvania, and 
 in a moment all was confusion. Next day Schurman received 
 an order to return to his command, and he hurried to Gettys- 
 burg, reaching it with the Third Corps. 
 
 For many years after the war, Mr. Schurman was an officer 
 of customs in New York. He frequently visited me at my home. 
 A decade ago he crossed the Silent River.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 251 
 
 HOW TRENTON HEARD OF SUMTER'S FALL. 
 
 TRENTON enjoys the proud distinction of having raised and 
 equipped the first three companies of volunteers in the 
 War for the Union Companies A, C and D, Third Regi- 
 ment and New Jersey has the honor of having sent the first 
 brigade four full regiments to the national capital. 
 
 General Beauregard, commanding Confederate forces in 
 Charleston Harbor, at 4.30 a. m., Friday, April 12, 1861 (47 
 years ago) opened his bombardment of Fort Sumter from 
 Morris Island, and next day at 1.10 p. m., Major Robert Ander- 
 son, commanding at the fort (a resident of Trenton in 1860), 
 signified his readiness to surrender by raising a white flag on 
 the broken staff from which the Stars and Stripes had floated 
 mid the storm of shell with which it had for more than thirty 
 hours been assailed. The formal surrender took place at nine 
 o'clock on the following morning Sunday and a few minutes 
 later the direful news reached New Jersey's capital city. 
 
 Few Trentonians, however religiously inclined, attended di- 
 vine service on that beautiful morning, owing to the intense 
 excitement which pervaded the community. Warren Street, 
 from State Street nearly to Front Street, was packed by a fren- 
 zied multitude, anxious to hear the latest from the seat of war, 
 as given out by Mr. Wright, the only telegraph operator in 
 town. Never since Washington victoriously entered the city on 
 that ever-memorable Christmas night in 1776, had its people 
 been so profoundly stirred. 
 
 At noon that day members of the America Hose Company 
 announced their willingness to form a nucleus for a company, 
 and before the sun went down behind the hills on the western 
 side of the Delaware, I had leased a vacant store on the south 
 side of State Street, and opened the same that evening as a 
 recruiting station for volunteers, intelligence having reached 
 Trenton that President Lincoln would on the morrow call for 
 75,000 men to defend the national capital. 
 
 Next day, Monday, April 15, my company (C, Wilkinson 
 Guards), without doubt the first volunteers to enroll in the 
 state, if not in the country, was fully recruited 77 members in 
 all. The quartermaster general (Perrine) at once purchased a 
 quantity of gray cloth, and distributed the material among the 
 patriotic women of the city to be made into so-called uniforms.
 
 252 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 I recall that an old lady, living on Warren Street, near the Bel- 
 videre Railroad bridge, had the making of my jacket, and that 
 I impatiently waited in her house several hours to see her finish 
 it, so anxious was I to don soldier's apparel, and I remember 
 how vain I felt as I walked down Warren street to the recruiting 
 station, wearing the little gray blouse. It was probably the first 
 uniform made and worn in Trenton's streets after the issuance 
 of the president's proclamation. Whether I removed the jacket 
 on retiring that night I have no recollection, but I vividly recall 
 sleeping in it from that time on for three long months. 
 
 Eight days afterwards we were mustered into Uncle Sam's 
 military service by Lieutenant A. T. A. Torbert, U. S. A. (after- 
 wards a famous general), and at noon on the fourth of May left 
 for Washington on steam propellers, going by way of inland 
 waters owing to the impossibility of traveling by rail, the "Plug 
 Uglies" of Baltimore having control of the Monumental City, 
 and interdicting communication with the national capital. 
 
 The three Trenton companies, without overcoats, despite 
 the chilly weather, embarked on the first propeller in line. It 
 occupied the lock at State Street, where an immense crowd had 
 assembled to witness the embarkation and departure. The scene 
 pictured there that day and its memories will abide so long as 
 life lasts. Very few, however, of those who witnessed the leave- 
 taking are now living. The roar of cannon, the waving of flags, 
 the fluent cheers did not move us as did the parting kiss, the hot 
 tear, the tender farewell, the admonition to remember the holy 
 cause in which we had embarked, and the lavish distribution of 
 beautiful flowers in every form of graceful bouquet, brought by 
 father, mother, sister and sweetheart. 
 
 The Trenton Gazette, next day, in describing the departure of 
 the Third Regiment, said: 
 
 "As the Trenton companies sailed away ladies waved their 
 handkerchiefs, cheer after cheer was given and returned, and the 
 drums beat. The mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends and 
 even sweethearts of many of the soldiers were there to bid them 
 adieu, it may be for the last time. Mothers whose sons were 
 going to the wars ; wives who parted with loving husbands, bit- 
 terly wept, and in that large crowd there was not a man who did 
 not feel his heart beat in sympathy with the solemn and affecting 
 scene.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 253 
 
 "The soldiers, although sad and sorrowful, as men would 
 be in taking leave of relatives and friends, appeared nevertheless, 
 firm and determined ; and we have no doubt that when they meet 
 the Southern traitors in the shock of battle, they will render a 
 good account of themselves. After many anxious days of sus- 
 pense, part of our gallant soldiery have gone forth to battle for 
 the right, and hundreds more are ready to leave our city, and 
 thousands to leave our state, to follow them. May God go with 
 them ! May victory perch upon their standards ! May rebellion 
 be crushed, and the Union be maintained, and the Jersey Blues 
 come home covered with glory !" 
 
 The voyage to Annapolis was attended by many discom- 
 forts, a fierce northeasterly storm prevailing. On the way down 
 the Delaware River, the propeller "Farmer," on which the Tren- 
 ton companies had taken passage, was blown upon a bar, but 
 not the kind most of the boys would liked to have visited at 
 that particular time, causing considerable excitement. The old 
 hulk was finally gotten off, but only with great difficulty, and 
 we were heartily grateful when we landed at Annapolis, although 
 we did so in the midst of a pelting hail-storm. We were very 
 hungry, an incompetent and ignorant quartermaster having 
 failed to provide sufficient rations for the trip. 
 
 The arrival of the Jersey brigade at the National capital sent 
 a thrill of great joy through the great heart of our noble and 
 patriotic president, and gave him the first assurance that the 
 capital was safe by our presence. We took possession of unoccu- 
 pied buildings on Pennsylvania Avenue, holding evening parades 
 on that broad but then alternately dusty and muddy thorough- 
 fare, until we received tents and went under canvass on Meridian 
 Hill, a couple of miles outside the city, where we had our first 
 drills. 
 
 At midnight, May 24, under a full moon, our brigade 
 marched silently down Fourteenth Street to the Long Bridge 
 spanning the Potomac River, passing en route long lines of 
 waiting troops. No sounds, save the measured tread of the 
 marching columns, the hoof-beats of horses, and the rumbling 
 of artillery wheels, disturbed the serenity of the beautiful night, 
 the people of Washington being in blissful ignorance of the 
 movement. 
 
 The Jersey Brigade was preceded across the river by Dis- 
 trict of Columbia volunteers, and two New York Regiments.
 
 254 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Turning to the left, after marching a few hundred yards, we 
 found ourselves on the main road leading to Alexandria, while 
 the column which led us across the bridge secured Arlington 
 Heights, and with it the home of General Robert E. Lee, now 
 overlooking the National Cemetery. We had probably reached 
 half the distance to Alexandria, when we learned that Ellsworth's 
 Zouaves and a Michigan regiment had landed in the ancient city, 
 and that the gallant Ellsworth had been killed by Jackson, pro- 
 prietor of the Marshall House. 
 
 When day came our brigade was set to work throwing up 
 entrenchments (subsequently well known as Fort Runyon). We 
 were kept at this laborious work, besides doing picket duty, for 
 several weeks, receiving no extra compensation, save in the 
 issue each day of whiskey, in which a generous quantity of 
 quinine had been mixed, thus doubtless saving many from chills 
 and fever. 
 
 While not active participants in battle in this the first cam- 
 paign of the war, we cheerfully performed manifold duties for 
 meagre pay $11 a month and without hope of reward for 
 sacrifices made, other than enjoying the satisfaction that we 
 were engaged in a righteous cause, and doing all in our, power 
 to uphold a government established by our forefathers. 
 
 Who can cease remembering the privations to which the 
 men of the Jersey (three months') brigade were subjected in the 
 earlier part of the campaign ? Whether this state of affairs was 
 due to incompetent and inexperienced men in charge of the com- 
 missariat, or the inability of the government to provide the 
 necessary supplies, none have ever been able to satisfactorily 
 explain, but we do know that for weeks after our arrival in 
 Washington, like a half-famished crew of a dismantled ship 
 which has been buffeted by storms, we availed ourselves of every 
 opportunity to eke our scanty supplies by catching fish in the 
 Potomac River, flowing tranquilly beside our camps. The cap- 
 ture of a catfish, with which the placid waters abounded, was 
 regarded with livelier joy than California miner ever manifested 
 when his diligent search and severe toil were rewarded with the 
 discovery of a nugget of fabulous value. 
 
 As a result of the heroic sacrifices made by the three months' 
 men, who left home and all that was dear at a moment's notice, 
 without previous preparation, and without the stimulus of any 
 bounty (such a thing not being dreamed of at that time), the 
 national capital was saved.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 255 
 
 To-day peace smiles on all our land. Over all the fields 
 torn by battle kindly nature has strewn a robe of emerald, 
 flecked here and there with buttercup and daisy. 
 
 From towns and cities' shattered by shot and shell, gentle 
 time has rubbed every scar. Into homes desolated, content long 
 ago came, and at broken firesides, long shrouded in gloom, the 
 Angel of Peace has furled her wing. Industry, commerce, and 
 all the arts flourish as never before. Resentments long and bit- 
 terly cherished are hushed ; the embers of old exasperations and 
 hate have died out upon the hearth. 
 
 While thanking God that He has thus delivered us out of 
 all our troubles, let us not forget the heroic dead who died that 
 the nation might live, and let patriotic people continue to fling 
 sprigs of rosemary on every loyal soldier's grave, keeping it for- 
 ever green in grateful memory. 
 
 REUNION OF EIGHTH NEW JERSEY. 
 
 FOR many years past General Drake has been an honored 
 guest at the annual reunions of the Eighth New Jersey 
 Regiment. At the reunion in 1907, he said: 
 
 "Mr. President: In attempting a response to your cour- 
 teous request and introduction, I again realize the swiftness of 
 the flight of time, as apparently it were but yesterday on a sim- 
 ilar occasion when you extended the same compliment to me. 
 
 "I always experience great delight in attending the annual 
 reunions of the survivors of the Eighth New Jersey Volunteers, 
 in which organization I long ago found my "affinity, as you 
 know, with one of your most gallant members, with whom I had 
 peculiar and thrilling experiences in the darkest days of the long 
 and bitter struggle of 1861-1865, and it gives me no less pleasure 
 in being present to-night at your symposium. The genuine com- 
 radeshipe ever shown me by Captain Harry H. Todd, of your 
 regiment, my companion in captivity in various Confederate 
 prison-houses, as well as in the longest and most perilous jour- 
 ney made by escaping prisoners of war, has been to me a price- 
 less recollection through all the intervening forty-three years, a 
 longer period of life than is allotted the most of mankind, and 
 I may add that as time passes, imposing languor and age, our 
 affection, brought into being under dangerous, painful and dis- 
 tressing circumstances, increases day by day. 'Tis this unalter- 
 able love that binds me closely to you, his comrades, and gives
 
 256 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 me intense pleasure in greeting year after year as time rolls on. 
 
 "This evening, as we come to this delightful and hallowed 
 hour, you men of the Eighth recall the many battles in which you 
 were permitted to take an active part in defence of the flag 
 you cherished. None forget those terrible days of 1861-1865, 
 when passion embittered the hearts of the people throughout this 
 land, but to-night we sit here with gratitude to God because of a 
 united country because of one flag, which your devotion and 
 sacrifices did so much to preserve. 
 
 "The time will never come when your patriotism shall be 
 forgotten, for your love of country and the principles underlying 
 that awful struggle did more to inspire and bless this land with a 
 true idea of the dedication of heart and life to our country's 
 future and destiny than all things else. 
 
 "The history of the nations of the earth, as they have striven 
 for a higher civilization, is replete with tales of brilliant daring, 
 of mighty valor, and of victories won through the baptism of 
 blood and fire, but nowhere and by no people have those qualities 
 shown to greater advantage than in our own dear land. 
 
 "One hundred and thirty-two years ago our forefathers sev- 
 ered the shackles that bound them hand and foot to England, 
 whose king and nobles laughed scornfully when they heard the 
 bell of Liberty in Philadelphia proclaim the establishment of a 
 Republic, whose flag was soon to float on merchant vessels in 
 every port of the world and become a symbol of power and 
 protection to the lowliest person who could claim the proud title 
 of American citizen. 
 
 "Strong and great America stands to-day because of the 
 patriotism and heroic sacrifices of the volunteers of 1861-1865. 
 Our country no longer has the dew of youth upon its brow ; it is 
 a giant, sturdy and strong. It has faced the chilling blasts of 
 adversity and successfully climbed the proud heights of fame; it 
 is rich in agricultural and mineral wealth, and strong in citizen 
 soldiery, who need but the sound of fife and drum, as in 1861, 
 to call them from the farm, desk and factory, to defend the 
 honor of the flag, for which you men of the Eighth did so much 
 and suffered so greatly. 
 
 "And if I correctly understand the portent of the present 
 time, I may say the day is not far distant when our youth will 
 be called upon to rally in defence of the flag we carried to glory. 
 For months past mutterings of war have been heard on the Pacific 
 coast, and a single breath may fan a great flame and let loose 
 the dogs of war. It is well, therefore, that America to-day has
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 257 
 
 a navy second to none in the world ships and men capable of 
 successfully engaging any foe that may appear on the seas. Let 
 us be thankful, too, that at the head of our nation stands a man,, 
 who, seeing the great dangers threatening our possessions, has 
 wisely taken timely measures to thwart Asiatic pretensions 
 at least for the time being. 
 
 "May the young men of to-day, as well as those to follow, 
 continue to draw inspiration and lessons of patriotism and devo- 
 tion from the noble example, you, my comrades, set when, without 
 a moment's warning or preparation for the sacrifice, you left all 
 that was near and dear to hazard everything in defence of the 
 best form of government ever vouchsafed to man. 
 
 "And now, my comrades, when our Union exists in abso- 
 lute integrity and our Republic is in complete and triumphant 
 development, may the young men of this God-given land, whether 
 their fathers or grand-sires wore the color that suggests the gray 
 of the morning sky or the beautiful blue of the full noon, feel, 
 proud of our blended battle-fields, radiant with the common glo- 
 ries of our companions-in-arms, and bind themselves together 
 with the same sacred bonds of friendship and brotherly love that 
 so happily and firmly exists between the comrades of the Eighth- 
 New Jersey." 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF CIVIL WAR. 
 
 SOME may wonder why those who served long years in 
 the Union and Confederate armies during the Civil War 
 delight at this late day in recalling recollections of the 
 campaigns in which they took part, but when one has partici- 
 pated in toilsome marches, faced dangers on field and flood, 
 been weakened by the loss of life's blood and suffered the hor- 
 rors of starvation in prison pens, it cannot be considered strange 
 that he should remember the fatigue, hunger, thirst and agony 
 of mind which made impressions that will last as long as life 
 itself, or tell of exciting scenes he witnessed or of the sufferings 
 he and his comrades underwent. 
 
 When war's dread alarm sounded in Charleston Harbor in 
 April, 1861, the people of the north and south, devoted for 
 many years to industry, knew so little about warfare that none 
 in this broad land had the faintest conception the struggle 
 would be Titanic in character, and continue with unabated fierce- 
 ness for four long years.
 
 258 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 The first campaign, ending with the miserably-managed bat- 
 tle of Bull Run, has long been regarded as but little better than 
 a costly picnic or pleasure excursion. The men who first re- 
 sponded to the call of the respective Governments, left home 
 carrying luggage enough to burden a small mule, the superfluous 
 articles pressed upon them by fond parents, affectionate brothers 
 and sisters, sweethearts and friends, including almost everything 
 from a Bible to a dirk-knife. 
 
 It was very hard at first for the volunteer soldier to acquire 
 the habit of military discipline, so necessary to a proper perform- 
 ance of duty. Particularly hard, almost debasing, the thought, 
 was it for a young man, perhaps the son of a rich, indulgent 
 father, to take arbitrary orders from the newly-fledged officer, 
 who had but lately been in his father's employ. It required 
 months for the American volunteer to overcome this fe,eling of 
 superiority. 
 
 Americans living to-day have but little conception of the 
 fatigues and dangers incurred by the gallant defenders of the 
 Union in 1861-1865. In the long marches the volunteer, some- 
 times a bare stripling of 16 and under, was compelled to be his 
 own master of transportation, keeping pace with older and 
 sturdier ones during the long hours of the day, and often far 
 into the night, with his great burden enough to stagger a mule 
 of an eleven-pound rifle, canteen of water, forty or sixty 
 rounds of ball cartridges, three or more days' cold rations, to 
 say nothing about heavy leather belts supporting cartridge box, 
 cap pouch and bayonet scabbard, together with overcoat, rub- 
 ber and woolen blankets, shelter tent, and often a change of 
 underwear. 
 
 This burden was uncomplainingly borne by boys who never 
 "heeded weather conditions. They tramped along the weary 
 way in clouds of stifling dust, under a burning sun, and fre- 
 quently in storm and mud half ankle deep 
 
 If depressed in spirit, or feeling as if they could no longer 
 place one foot before the other, so great was their exhaustion 
 and desire for rest and sleep, the sound of a cannot shot or the 
 sudden rattle of a volley of musketry, instantly revived their 
 hopes for battle and victory, and in a moment, relieved from 
 ennui, fatigue was forgotten under the stimulus of battle forma- 
 tion and the excitement attending the opening of a contest. 
 
 While the American volunteer soldier had tribulations, he 
 "had also well-springs of pleasure moments of joy and gladness. 
 In camp, when not on duty, he indulged in various exercises,
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 259 
 
 and improved his mind by reading, writing and innocent amuse- 
 ments to relieve him from ennui. Some vocalists in our great 
 army would have graced any public entertainment at home. 
 Among the most noted singers I ever heard in the service were 
 the famous Lombard brothers, of Illinois. Adjutant Lombard, 
 prince of good fellows, while a prisoner of war, did much to 
 enliven the spirits of his forlorn and unhappy companions in 
 misery, and I doubt not his melodies and rich, musical voice 
 saved many from despair and relinquishing hope of exchange. 
 Of one solace the American Volunteers could not be de- 
 prived. Amid all the excitements of camp, march, bivouac and 
 battle, thoughts of loved ones at home restrained them from 
 yielding to temptation, and inspired them with fortitude to en- 
 dure privations as good soldiers. Letters from dearest kindred, 
 descriptive of scenes at their old homesteads, and making in- 
 quiry concerning their welfare, when received, greatly delighted 
 and comforted them. The father who left an affectionate family 
 to take up arms in their defense was constantly reminded that 
 he was the object of tenderest sympathy, and his heart dilated 
 with pleasure and his sinewy arms acquired additional vigor 
 when he received this proof that his toils and sacrifices were 
 appreciated by those dearer to him than his own existence. 
 
 There was always something picturesque and sublime in a 
 night bivouac of any army. The long lines of fires flickering 
 and glowing in the darkness ; the groups of weary soldiers, their 
 free and easy attitudes, their arms at their sides, ready to be 
 caught up at any instant ; the simple fare, exhausted men cook- 
 ing their own supper ; the long-stretching shadows and the back- 
 ground of Cimmerian blackness. Can you, reader, imagine all 
 this? Then the vast multitude slumbers as one man only the 
 sentinels keeping .watch and ward. The trees shelter some, 
 and some lie in blankets under stars illumining the ethereal blue. 
 And thousands of that tired and sleeping host are dreaming 
 some of home, some of partings that were painful, or of future 
 meetings that shall be full of joy till suddenly the trumpets 
 sound, and all that host rises from the earth, and the stern reali- 
 ties of the toilsome march, the fight, the terrible roar and whistle 
 of death take the place of dreams.
 
 260 HISTORICAL. SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 THE FIRST STARS AND STRIPES. 
 
 DID the Psalmist of old prophesy the eventual coming of 
 the stars and stripes when he wrote the fourth verse of 
 the sixtieth psalm, which reads: "Thou hast given a 
 banner to them that fear Thee, that it may be displayed because 
 of the truth?" 
 
 Is it not true that our starry banner has ever been raised 
 "because of the truth?" 
 
 Mankind has ever loved symbols and emblems, for they 
 speak a higher, finer language than the human tongue can 
 frame. 
 
 The higher a nation stands the more of a halo will there 
 be about its flag. The patriotism of its people is measured by 
 their devotion to their national emblem. 
 
 The white plume of the Knight of Navarre inspired his 
 followers to deeds of desperate valor; the sacred raven of the 
 Danes led them to merciless defeat ; the passion red cross of the 
 Crusaders was an inspiration as they advanced chanting prayers 
 across trackless and burning wastes to battle with the Saracen ; 
 Roman soldiers defended their eagles as their most precious 
 inheritance ; while it was under the banner of St. George (not an 
 Englishman) that Briton purchased Hessians to fight against 
 American liberty. 
 
 The war for American independence had progressed more 
 than two years ere any step leading to the adoption of a National 
 flag was taken by Congress. Up to that time the colonies had 
 had no less than sixty-four different flags on land and sea. 
 
 Who designed our starry banner may never be known, but 
 it is commonly believed that Washington's coat-of-arms sug- 
 gested the design. 
 
 It goes without saying that women of English ancestry 
 made the first American flag, using English bunting and Eng- 
 lish thread, and, furthermore, that they presented the emblem 
 to an English-bred Scotchman, shortly after the action of Con- 
 gress in ordering the manufacture of a flag with thirteen stripes, 
 alternating red and white, the union of states to be thirteen 
 white stars on a blue field, representing the new constellation. 
 
 John Paul Jones was first to fling the political firmament 
 from his vessel, the "Ranger," then lying in New Jersey waters, 
 a flag that has since astonished the world with its beauty, and 
 delighted lovers of liberty with its symbolism.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 261 
 
 Jones's flag, made in Philadelphia by two sisters Mary 
 and Jane Austin after going the wide-world o'er, finally fell 
 into the possession of James B. Stafford, a lieutenant on the 
 "Ranger" and "Bon Homme Richard," an uncle of Miss Sally 
 Stafford, of Trenton, N. J., with whom the writer was well ac- 
 quainted. Miss Stafford religiously cared for the sacred relic 
 until her death. 
 
 I had the honor of displaying this flag in a political proces- 
 sion in Trenton in 1854, and find it pleasant to recall the ap- 
 plause accorded the emblem as it was proudly borne aloft from 
 the bow of a large boat in which myself and other boy members 
 of the "Stockton Sailor Club" rode through streets lined with 
 patriotic 
 
 THE BATTLE. 
 
 THE grouping of falling men and horses; the many heaped 
 up masses of dead moved strangely by the living maimed 
 among them, showing the points where the deadly strife 
 had been most severe; the commingling of uniforms of friends 
 and foes, as both lie scattered on the ground on which they fell ; 
 the groups surrounding this and that individual sufferer, hearing 
 his last words, giving to him the last drops of water which will 
 ever moisten his lips upon earth ; the stretchers borne from 
 various points, each carrying some officer or enlisted man, who 
 has now the startling feeling forced upon him, "it has come to 
 this, and yet there may be hope of life ;" his excited overworn 
 spirit, half fainting as it is, yet dreaming a mixed feverish dream 
 of the charge in which he met his wound, and the thoughts of 
 home that flashed upon the heart as it seemed to commit that 
 heart to a moment's oblivion of all else. 
 
 Then comes the first dawn of the hope that life may be 
 spared; the view of horrid objects passed, seen with a dimmed 
 eye; hope of life growing stronger, but with it now a dread of 
 some operation to be undergone ; the sound of guns still heard, 
 begetting a feverish, impatient desire to know the result of the 
 battle. Again, a partial waking up at the voice of the surgeon ; 
 he and his assistants seen as through a mist; the deafened feel- 
 ings of utter weakness causing all to seem as though they spoke 
 in whispers; the still further rousing of the mind as the cordial 
 administered begins to take effect; the voice of a comrade or 
 friend lying close by, himself wounded, yet speaking to cheer;
 
 262 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 the operation borne bravely, and felt the less as it gives promise 
 of a life just now seemingly lost to hope; through it all fresh 
 news ever arriving from amidst the din of the strife yet raging. 
 All this has a life and motion and spirit in it which mocks the 
 real grave horror of the scene. 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 
 GENERAL JAMES MADISON DRAKE. 
 
 WRITTEN BY His FATHER IN 
 
 subject of this sketch was born near Washington Rock, 
 Somerset County, New Jersey, March 25, 1837, and very 
 early gave indication of the enterprising spirit which has 
 incited him to noble efforts during a busy life. 
 
 As soon as he began to toddle, our hero accompanied his 
 parents on holy days to the neighboring church; but instead of 
 employing sacred hours in listening reverently to expositions of 
 Scripture, and joining in the ascriptions of praise, it was his 
 custom to wander from the maternal knee into the adjacent aisles, 
 cultivating the acquaintance of sociable worshipers, and, occa- 
 sionally, climb the pulpit steps to gaze upon a congregation of 
 familiar faces. 
 
 It was natural that a child manifesting such amiable traits 
 should early desire to see something of the bright world into 
 which he had been introduced. Accordingly, when he attained 
 the age of two years, he contrived to climb into a wagon and 
 conceal his tiny form behind the articles with which it was partly 
 laden. Directly his father attached the horses, and, walking 
 beside them, proceeded on his way over the mountain, little sus- 
 pecting that the wee one, who was his mother's constant com- 
 panion, was being jolted over the rugged road. Home was left 
 far behind before the truant was discovered, and great was his 
 joy when the astonished father consented that he might accom- 
 pany him to his journey's end. On the young traveler's return 
 to his anxious mother he related marvelous stories of hair- 
 breadth escapes from imminent dangers ; and described in glowing 
 sentences the wonderful objects that had delighted his vision. 
 
 When Drake was about six years old, his father established 
 a printing office in Elizabeth, and introduced him to a busy 
 scene. Here the lad acquired much useful knowledge, and be- 
 came a proficient in the "Art preservative of all Arts." At the
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 263 
 
 age of twelve years, he was a rapid and correct compositor. 
 When about fifteen, he held a situation on a Trenton morning 
 newspaper, and was noted for skill and diligence. The year fol- 
 lowing (1854) he began the publication of the "Mercer Stand- 
 ard," a literary paper of acknowledged excellence. Later, he 
 started a daily newspaper, entitled the "Evening Express," which 
 was continued by an association of journeymen printers under 
 the title of the "True Democrat." 
 
 For some time the energetic youth was a reporter on "The 
 State Gazette," and his talents and industry won for him the 
 esteem of Trenton's most eminent citizens. In 1860 he was 
 induced to again engage in the newspaper business, and issued 
 a campaign sheet entitled "The Wide-Awake," which did good 
 service in the Republican cause, adding largely to Lincoln's vote 
 in Mercer County. 
 
 At the age of 23 years, Drake was elected an Alderman of 
 Trenton, the Republicans giving him a handsome majority; and, 
 at the expiration of his term, he was re-elected. In a community 
 noted for its choice of good men for positions of trust, the election 
 of the young publisher was justly regarded by his friends as an 
 honorable recognition of his virtues and services. 
 
 In 1859, Drake organized the "America Hose Company of 
 Trenton," then, as now, one of the most efficient associations for 
 the extinguishing of fires within our knowledge. He was four 
 times elected an Engineer of the Trenton Fire Department, and 
 widely known as an efficient officer. 
 
 When news of the fall of Sumter reached Trenton on a 
 bright Sunday morning, its citizens quickly engaged in consul- 
 tation how best to aid in averting perils that threatened the na- 
 tion's life. In this emergency many energetic firemen and others 
 urged Drake to organize, drill and lead them to the defence of 
 the national capital. He left press and type forthwith, and 
 devoted all his energies to drilling those who were eager to serve 
 an imperilled country. A vacant store on State street was 
 secured, the Stars and Stripes were displayed, and fife and drum 
 made things lively where Silence had long brooded. Here was 
 organized the first company of "Minute Men" in our patriotic 
 commonwealth. This command, attached to the Third Regi- 
 ment, was one of the first military organizations in Washington 
 going by way of the Chesapeake, via Annapolis. 
 
 With characteristic modesty, Drake refused to take com- 
 mand of the company which he speedily organized, believing that 
 a man of military knowledge should be appointed. He accepted
 
 264 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 the post of Ensign of the regiment, and during the campaign 
 gallantly carried the colors, being the first to unfurl our flag 
 (at the head of the army of invasion), on Virginia soil, the Third 
 New Jersey regiment being the third to cross the Long Bridge 
 the night the lamented Ellsworth was killed. 
 
 At the expiration of their term of service, shortly after the 
 battle of Bull Run, Drake and his comrades returned to their 
 homes. But the patriotism of the Trenton boys would not allow 
 them to be idle when bleeding countrymen called for aid to 
 resist the foe on ensanguined fields, and Drake hastened to join 
 the Ninth New Jersey Regiment, deservedly celebrated as sharp- 
 shooters. 
 
 Whilst serving as first sergeant of Company K, and receiv- 
 ing only a sergeant's pay, Drake for a long time was in com- 
 mand. His knowledge of military matters enabled him to be 
 decidedly useful, while his acknowledged bravery inspired his 
 comrades with courage. He participated in every engagement 
 in which this famous regiment took part, displaying great gal- 
 lantry and skill in leading his company. 
 
 In the terrible battle of Drury's Bluff, Va., May 16, 1864, in 
 which but four out of nineteen officers attached to his regiment 
 escaped unhurt, Drake was taken prisoner and speedily intro- 
 duced to the "Libby," where he had little to do except fast and 
 reflect on the vicissitudes of a soldier's life. In common with 
 hundreds of heroic men, he endured hunger with fortitude, slept 
 the sleep of the just on the soft side of a plank, and laughed to 
 scorn the efforts of brutal jailors to disturb his tranquility. True, 
 thoughts of anxious kindred would intrude into his dreams, and 
 were ever present in his waking hours. He was eager to regain 
 his freedom that he might hear tidings of the dear ones at home, 
 and again engage in his country's service. 
 
 After enduring sore discomfort for a few weeks in Libby 
 prison, Drake accompanied some hundreds of his fellow captives 
 to Danville, that, in the language of a Confederate officer, he 
 might have an opportunity of observing the picturesque scenery 
 of that portion of the country and partake of the elegant hospitali- 
 ties dispensed at the military prison at that salubrious spot. 
 
 Fearing, however, that the captives were enjoying too much 
 happiness here, and desirous also that they should visit other 
 interesting points in the sunny South, they were removed to 
 Augusta, to Macon, to Savannah, to Charleston. On their ar- 
 rival at Charleston things were decidedly lively in the beleaguered 
 city. With a patience that never wearied, and a skill that excited
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 265 
 
 marvel, Foster rained shot and shell on the foe within reach of 
 his batteries. While the heavens were lurid with fires of hell, 
 the yellow fever seized on the vitals of many whom bomb and 
 ball failed to injure. In this delectable spot, hundreds of men, 
 whose only crime was that they loved their country, were sent 
 to languish. Thanks to the protection of a gracious Providence, 
 Drake suffered no harm in this hideous prison-house. 
 
 Having passed a portion of the dog-days in the Charleston 
 jail-yard, exposed to imminent peril, Drake was admitted for a 
 brief season to the Marine Hospital. But the Confederate author- 
 ities, deciding to remove six hundred Union officers from the 
 "accursed city of the sea" to Columbia, Drake was among the 
 number ordered on the pleasant excursion. 
 
 In the various military prisons in which he had endured mis- 
 ery in varied forms, he was indefatigable in- planning means of 
 escape. Taking his life in his hands, he was ever ready to en- 
 gage in desperate undertakings to regain liberty. Powerless, 
 however, to successfully engage their jailors in a hand to hand 
 struggle, the captive officers sought to baffle their vigilance. 
 What they could not hope to effect by force they resolved to 
 accomplish by stratagem. To this end they organized a corps 
 of sappers and miners, and attempted to dig their way to a change 
 of scene. Tunnels requiring immense labor were excavated by 
 men whose energies were taxed to the limits of human endurance. 
 But when their freedom seemed well nigh assured, trifling acci- 
 dents or accursed treachery baffled every effort. Watched with 
 sleepless vigilance, the prospect of escaping from an intolerable 
 captivity seemed hopeless to the great majority of Drake's asso- 
 ciates. But he never despaired. 
 
 After he had been a few months in Dixie, it occurring to 
 him that his manner of life was becoming a little monotonous, 
 he resolved to change it at the first convenient opportunity. 
 
 He did not wait long. On the journey to the capital 
 of the Palmetto State Drake and three of his companions agreed 
 to regain their freedom even at the peril of life. At a favorable 
 point he led the way in a leap for liberty, his comrades jumping 
 from the rapidly moving car directly after. The guards were 
 astounded by the extraordinary feat, that, for a minute, they for- 
 got to fire a parting salute with the rifles which were their insep- 
 arable companions. As soon, however, as their excitement al- 
 lowed, they fired upon the fugitives, and let "slip the dogs of war" 
 in the form of bloodhounds, swift of foot, keen of scent, and as 
 ferocious and untiring as any animal on God's footstool.
 
 266 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Though the officers happily escaped injury in their terrible 
 leap, and were graciously preserved from flying bullets and the 
 awful fangs of the bloodhounds, they soon found themselves en- 
 vironed with formidable difficulties. Hunger, thirst, home- 
 sickness were among the minor ills of their pilgrimage. They 
 were several hundred miles from a place of refuge, in the midst 
 of implacable enemies, without guide or compass. Extensive 
 swamps noted for deadly miasma, and thorns almost keen as 
 razors, wide and deep streams, and mountains whose summits 
 kissed the clouds, lay directly in their path. As they emerged 
 from swollen streams their shivering bodies often attested the 
 coldness of the water. Mountain ravines were threaded by 
 Drake's naked feet, while snow and ice in profusion made his 
 progress inexpressibly painful. His condition here was truly 
 pitiable, the situation one of manifold horrors. 
 
 The sufferings of the travelers, under the most favorable cir- 
 cumstances calculated to cause strong men to despond, were 
 greatly aggravated by the intense cold they encountered before 
 they reached the Union lines. At this critical period of his his- 
 tory Drake's wardrobe consisted of a blouse, pants and red shirt, 
 worn thin and ragged during a period of six months' constant 
 service. While rambling over sunny plains his garments were 
 neither ornamental or comfortable, being travel-stained and dilap- 
 idated. On the bleak mountains they failed to protect his form 
 from an atmosphere that pinched like a vice. He had long been 
 shoeless, and so badly were his feet frozen in climbing one of 
 the highest peaks of the continent that it was feared amputation 
 would be necessary. 
 
 The limits allowed for this sketch will not permit us to record 
 many interesting incidents attending Capt. Drake's remarkable 
 escape. We can only add that, after being exposed to serious 
 hardships during a period of forty-nine days, he reached Knox- 
 ville, Tenn., November 16, 1864, and was soon surrounded by 
 friends who ministered to his necessities while they listened 
 eagerly to his exciting narrative. 
 
 The New York Tribune, in publishing the adventures here 
 concisely stated, said: ''This escape is considered the most 
 daring and wonderful that has been effected since the commence- 
 ment of the rebellion." 
 
 A brief period was allowed Drake to recover from the ex- 
 haustion caused by the miseries of his captivity, when he returned 
 to his regiment, was promoted, doing faithful service until the 
 surrender of the rebel armies.
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 267 
 
 On the recommendation of General Grant, the Secretary of 
 War presented Drake with a Congressional medal of honor, which 
 is more highly prized than any other of the cherished badges and 
 decorations in his possession. 
 
 On being mustered out of service Drake settled in Elizabeth, 
 New Jersey, where, in 1868, he started "The Daily Monitor," 
 which soon attained a large circulation and profitable advertising 
 patronage. 
 
 For five years he commanded the Third Regiment, N. G., an 
 organization in whose prosperity the patriotic people of New Jer- 
 sey took warm interest, and which has been honored with ovations 
 in Washington, Philadelphia, New York, Trenton, Cape May, 
 and other cities. 
 
 For "long and meritorious service" Colonel Drake was 
 brevetted Brigadier-General by a special act of the legislature, 
 and the honor thus conferred on this gallant soldier greatly 
 gratified his large circle of friends. 
 
 As a disciplinarian and drill-master, General Drake pos- 
 sesses qualities of a high order. He was ever held in deserved 
 respect by his men, and the excellent reputation of the Third 
 Regiment is in a large measure due to his eminent fitness to 
 command. Few other officers have done as much as him to 
 place the National Guard of New Jersey in its present creditable 
 condition. 
 
 General Drake early learned to sympathize with all who 
 suffer adversity, and his captivity was so intolerable that he thor- 
 oughly hates oppressors. He honors his fellows for their sterling 
 qualities, believing that worth makes the man. Few have more 
 warm friends. He has the rare faculty of winning the good 
 opinion of all with whom he associates. As the publisher of a 
 live newspaper, he exerts a wide influence, and ever seeks to 
 do good as he has opportunity. 
 
 JAMES S. DRAKE.
 
 268 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 HOW BRAVE MEN DIED. 
 
 A VOLUME would scarce suffice for the narration of the 
 many noble deeds performed by the officers and men of 
 the Eleventh New Jersey Volunteers, in their desperate 
 and sanguinary struggle with Longstreet's almost invincible 
 corps of well-tried veterans at Gettysburg on the second of July, 
 1863, and so I will content myself by telling briefly of the 
 strange fatality that overtook many of its gallant officers. 
 
 After a long, rapid and fatiguing march over Maryland's 
 dusty roads all the livelong day of July 1, 1863, the Eleventh 
 New Jersey, on the evening of that day, found itself confronting 
 Longstreet's jubilant and serried line occupying the extreme 
 right of the Confederates on Seminary Ridge. 
 
 Although worn-out with fatigue, and greatly feeling the 
 want of sleep, there were many among them so anxious to 
 punish the foe for his insolence in invading northern soil, and 
 so flushed with the hope of success that they were incapable 
 of repose. As they passed the wakeful hours, and the silence 
 and darkness of midnight stole upon them, they gave them- 
 selves up to profound meditation. They reflected on the mani- 
 fold dangers through which they had passed for more than a 
 year, and mused on the result of a battle in progress for more 
 than twenty-four hours a battle that was to decide the destiny 
 of the country the fate of a government they had been taught 
 to believe was the best form ever devised by man. They com- 
 pared the stillness of the night with the awful roar of conflict 
 they had listened to for many hours while hastening to the 
 scene, and of the tumult which they knew would come on 
 the morrow, but none could foretell who would be the happy 
 or unhappy victims. They thought, too, of their parents, their 
 flag, their country, and the uncertainty whether they should 
 ever again see these beloved objects, plunged all into the deep- 
 est melancholy. But suddenly, while the everlasting hills about 
 them, and the beautiful dale below them, were enshrouded in 
 an impenetrable fog, the bugles, clear and distinct, sounded to 
 the deadly fray, the officers, fully alert, crying: "Fall in, boys, 
 fall in," the worn and jaded men rushing to their different sta- 
 tions, and all, in order for the battle, awaited the signal for 
 action. All in that gallant host were animated by a love of 
 country, and the necessity of conquering or dying for the flag
 
 REVOLUTIONARY AND CIVIL WARS. 269 
 
 they loved. To the sentiment of self-preservation were added 
 ideas of duty and of valor. 
 
 Such were the feelings of men of the Eleventh and their 
 comrades of the Third corps, when a radiant sun, bursting from 
 the thick fog, rapidly dispelled, shone on many of them for the 
 last time. 
 
 The position occupied by the Eleventh, with that of the 
 rest of the corps, was highly desirable to General Lee, and 
 he ordered Longstreet to attack the Third corps with all possible 
 vigor. Under cover of his splendid and admirably-served bat- 
 teries lined along the wooded ridge, General Barksdale and his 
 fierce Mississippians made a determined advance. On, on. came 
 the Mississippians, covered by a strong line of sharpshooters, 
 until they reached and occupied the little farm, near which the 
 Eleventh, with bated breath, awaited them. Up to this moment 
 the Jerseymen had withheld their fire, but as the elated 
 enemy pressed forward upon the wasted line of blue they opened 
 a terrific fire, momentarily checking the advance of the confi- 
 dent and exultant Confederates, who were assured of success. 
 
 It was at this supremely critical moment that the gallant 
 and heroic Colonel Robert McAllister, commanding the 
 Eleventh, while encouraging his brave fellows to stand firm 
 in repelling the haughty invader, was disabled by two severe 
 wounds a Minie bullet in his left leg and a fragment of a shell 
 in his right foot. "Don't give way, my boys," he said, as he 
 was borne on a stretcher from the field. 
 
 Major Philip J. Kearny had no sooner assumed command 
 of the regiment, after the withdrawal of Colonel McAllister, than 
 he fell dead, another victim on his country's bleeding altar. To 
 the valor of a soldier he united the politeness of the gentleman, 
 and, like his great prototype, General Philip Kearny, the hero 
 of Chantilly, he was richly endowed with the qualities and all 
 the virtues that should characterize the American volunteer 
 soldier. 
 
 Witnessing the death of the only field officer present, Cap- 
 tain Luther Martin, a young printer from Plainfield, took com- 
 mand, and while stimulating the men by his great courage and 
 enthusiasm, he, too, fell upon the altar of liberty, his precious 
 blood enriching the soil he so gallantly defended. Captain 
 Martin's undaunted bravery on many ensanguined fields had 
 long inspired the men of the Eleventh with a melancholy pre- 
 sentment that such a warrior must necessarily perish on the 
 field of battle. It was fulfilled at Gettysburg.
 
 270 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Captain Dorastus B. Logan, next in seniority, on witness- 
 ing the death of his loved companion, sprang forward and worth- 
 ily took his place, but had hardly done so ere he was ruthlessly 
 robbed of a bright and promising life, falling beside the colors 
 he had so intrepidly followed. 
 
 Captain Andrew H. Ackerman then assumed command, 
 and was instantly killed. Apparently, Death stood there to 
 claim every shining mark. 
 
 Captain William H. Lloyd, on being notified by Adjutant 
 John Schoonover, stepped forward to direct the regiment, and 
 while doing so, fell desperately wounded, and was removed to 
 the field hospital. 
 
 Adjutant Schoonover (still living), the surviving ranking 
 officer present, took command, and although quickly disabled 
 by two wounds, remained with the regiment, and shortly after 
 under orders, led it from the gory field. 
 
 FAMOUS CIVIL WAR ORGANIZATION. 
 
 IN January, 1867, seventy-five genuine Elizabeth veterans of 
 the Civil War, some of whom had stood by my side in the 
 Ninth New Jersey Volunteers for four years, organized 
 themselves into a body known from that time to this as the 
 Veteran Zouaves, and unanimously elected me as commandant. 
 The Zouaves, by superior drill and deportment, sprung into 
 prominence at once, and during all these intervening forty years 
 have been especial public favorites, not only in Elizabeth and 
 throughout New Jersey, but in nearly every prominent Ameri- 
 can city, in all of which they have been welcome guests and the 
 recipients of brilliant receptions. 
 
 The Zouaves have had as guests President U. S. Grant 
 and Generals Sherman, Sheridan, John C. Black, John B. Gor- 
 don, Governor of Georgia, and others, besides many prominent 
 military organizations, including the Tibbitts' Corps of Troy, 
 the Jackson Corps of Albany, and Confederate Camp of New 
 York city. 
 
 In 1879 the Zouaves visited Albany, N. Y., and acted as 
 escort to the National encampment of the G. A. R., performing 
 the same service in San Francisco in August, 1886. 
 
 In July, 1885, the Zouaves visited Albany for the second 
 time, and Troy and Saratoga, the pleasure of their brilliant tour 
 being in a measure marred by the sickness and death of General
 
 272 HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE 
 
 Grant, which occurred the day after they reached Saratoga, 
 while en route to visit him at Mt. McGregor. 
 
 In 1886, the Zouaves, forty strong, with sixty honorary 
 members (including eleven ladies), crossed the American Con- 
 tinent to San Francisco in a special train of parlor cars, and 
 were absent from home one month. Neither before nor since 
 has any military command ever made this tour for pleasure. 
 
 In 1890 the Zouaves made a tour of the Southern States, 
 with New Orleans as the objective point. In the Cres- 
 cent City the Zouaves were guests of the famous Washington 
 Artillery for three days. Seventeen days were consumed on 
 this trip. 
 
 The Zouaves have made more pleasure excursions and visit- 
 ed more cities and states than any other military command in 
 the country. 
 
 Three members of the Zouaves General Drake, Major 
 Rufus King, U. S. Army, and Col. Julian Scott, the famous 
 battle-scene painter received Medals of Honor from Congress. 
 
 The last pilgrimage made by the Zouaves was in October, 
 1907, when they bivouacked at Gettysburg. Harper's Ferry, 
 Washington, Alexandria, Mount Vernon, and Arlington. They 
 were absent from home one week, and on their return received 
 a magnificent ovation from their fellow-citizens. (The accom- 
 panying picture of seventeen survivors was taken in front of the 
 commandant's home previous to departure.) 
 
 The Zouaves have visited New York City, Philadelphia and 
 Washington many times, and Albany, Troy, Saratoga, New 
 Haven, St. Louis, Kansas City, Topeka, Kansas City, Los An- 
 geles, Oakland, Alameda, San Francisco, Sacramento, Salt Lake 
 City, Pueblo, Colorado Springs, Pike's Peak, Garden of the 
 Gods, Chicago, Cincinnati, Chattanooga, Birmingham, New 
 Orleans, Mobile, Atlanta, Augusta, Charleston, Richmond, 
 Trenton, Princeton, Freehold, Camden, Newark, Jersey City, 
 Orange, and many other New Jersey towns.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, LOS ANGELES 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
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